"All right, Monkey, you've felt the old monk's head. Let's get going," said the Toad Daoist.
"No, I still have to escort them to the Western Heaven," Sun Wukong insisted. "And merely sending them there isn't enough. They must also undergo the full eighty-one tribulations."
"That's right. The Bodhisattva said not a single tribulation could be missing for them to obtain the true scriptures. We can ride clouds and mist, but the scriptures we fetch won't count. The scripture seekers must walk steadily, step by step, all the way to the Western Heaven," Pig Eight Precepts added from the side.
The Toad Daoist fell silent for a while. He found it troublesome too.
Tang Seng was flesh and blood, yet he weighed as much as Mount Tai. Blowing him there on demon winds wouldn't do; he had to walk every step himself. Wouldn't that be the death of them? It would take at least eight or ten years.
And that was without counting the eighty-one tribulations. Taking twenty years wouldn't be surprising.
But how could Your Excellency possibly give him twenty years to subdue a Sun Wukong?
Then no one would be able to do anything else.
When Zhuge Liang left the mountains to assist Liu Bei, it had only taken three visits to the thatched cottage.
Just as he was at a loss, a little girl's voice rang out. "Isn't gathering eighty-one tribulations easy?"
The newcomer was Little Illusion, whom the Toad Daoist had met before.
"Greetings, Honored Saint. Might I ask what method you have?" he asked with utmost sincerity.
With a wave of Little Illusion's hand, a great river appeared beside them.
Then she stamped her foot, and an incomparably enormous waterwheel appeared by the riverbank.
With another point at Tang Seng, he was tied to one