The Tightening Fillet Ends Up on Tang Sanzang's Head

Amid his fury, a cold calculation rose within him. Since they wanted to play, then Old Sun would play along! Turn their scheme against them!

In that flash of lightning, Sun Wukong had already made his decision.

The icy look on his face quickly faded, replaced by an expression tinged with "guilt" and "sincerity."

Rather than taking the flower hat Tang Sanzang offered again, he reached out only for the Cotton Robe, casually draping it over his arm. Then, looking at the lonely flower hat in Tang Sanzang's hands, he let out a heartfelt sigh.

"Master," Sun Wukong said in a gentler voice, even carrying a trace of concern absent before.

"Your disciple spoke too harshly just now. Please do not take it to heart. Your disciple was also... also doing it for your own good."

Tang Sanzang was already unsettled by Lin Zhu's abrupt denial. Hearing this, he froze.

"For... for my own good?"

"Exactly!"

Sun Wukong wore an expression that said, I'm thinking of you.

"Master, think about it. Your disciple is, after all, a Grand Luo Golden Immortal, with vast divine powers. Ordinary demons cannot come near me. What difference does it make whether I wear this hat or not? At most, it is icing on the cake."

Then he changed his tone, pointing westward and lowering his voice with the gravity of someone exposing a cruel truth.

"But what about you, Master? You have a mortal body and lack even the strength to truss a chicken, yet you must walk a hundred and eight thousand li all the way to Western Heaven! Along this road are towering mountains and endless ridges, with demons and monsters beyond count! Never mind distant dangers. Just look ahead..."

Sun Wukong casually pointed toward a stretch of scorched mountains in the