I am the monk Tang Sanzang, who buries heaven, hides the earth, and buries all living things. These are my few useless disciples: eldest disciple, Sun the Punisher; second disciple, Zhu Eight-Rings; third disciple, Sha Nothing-Left.
“You three, search carefully along the way for your master.”
“Wukong, why waste your breath on him?”
“If the donor can’t understand the Great Vehicle Buddhist teachings, this poor monk knows a few martial arts moves.”
“The speedrun clear screen after all 81 trials, with the MVP results.”
“The holy monk splits Lion Camel Ridge in two; Manjushri kneels to save the lion demon.”
“Bajie, get behind your master.”
“Pick up the scriptures. Pick up the scriptures.”
“You should be grateful that the monkey can beat you.”
“Tathagata, why don’t you kneel when you see me?”
“Bull Demon King, bring me two liang of beef.”
“You three, take care of the horse, or I’ll break your legs.”
Sun Wukong: I’ve always lived in his shadow. That day, he shattered the Five-Finger Mountain with one punch, dragged me out, and asked, “Are you coming with me to the Western Heaven, or should I send you there myself?”
It didn't ruin my childhood, praise, praise, praise
I have read a handful of hilarious Journey to the West novels, and I love them.
Insulted, look at Cool Tutu Tu Yuqing
An interesting and fun journey to the west book worth reading
Time never speaks, but it answers all questions