Wukong: Master’s Got a Bit of a Temper

Five hundred years passed. Beneath Five-Finger Mountain, Wukong waited impatiently.

"Clang, clatter..."

The sound of metal scraping across the ground rang out. Wukong opened his eyes and looked over.

A monk approached, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He dragged one end of his staff along the ground with his left hand. His muscles bulged, and nine black dragons were tattooed across his body and arms. His cassock hung over one shoulder, and he carried a bundle in his right hand.

"Clunk..."

The monk blew a cloud of smoke into Wukong's face.

"You're that damned monkey, aren't you?"

Wukong's cheek twitched as he stared at the fierce-looking monk.

"Who are you calling a damned monkey? I'm the Great Sage Equal to Heaven..." Wukong bared his teeth, looking so ferocious he could scare anyone.

"Bam, bam, bam..."

"Equal to what? Great to what? I'm your master, and you dare snarl at me?"

As he spoke, the monk rained blows and kicks on Wukong, beating him black and blue. Then he watched him coldly, cigarette still in his mouth.

Wukong pleaded miserably, "Stop hitting me, Master! I was wrong, I was wrong."

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.