The Tightening Fillet Spell Turns into a Massage, and Guanyin Completely Loses It!

Once he thought about it that way, that "keep chanting" line was no longer a slip-up, but a natural reaction born of his twisted personality.

Sun Wukong rolled around on the ground, regretting his momentary brain lapse so badly his guts nearly turned green. He hurriedly intensified his performance, using his most heart-wrenching wails to cover up that earlier "keep chanting."

He clutched his head with both hands, curled into a ball, and kicked his legs wildly against the ground, sending loose stones clattering down the cliff.

"Stop chanting! Bodhisattva, stop chanting! Old Sun knows he was wrong! My head hurts! It hurts like it's splitting apart!"

His cries were so miserable they could have wailed birds out of the sky. Combined with the tears, snot, and twisted expression, his acting was practically flawless.

As he howled, he rammed his head against the ground with loud thuds, covering his forehead in dust and gravel.

Seeing this, Guanyin Bodhisattva nodded in satisfaction. That was more like it. This was what she understood the Tightening Fillet Spell to be like. A monkey tormented by the spell ought to be crying for his parents and rolling around the ground in agony, not opening his mouth to ask for more.

But she had no intention of stopping. Once was not enough, twice was not enough, and three times was not enough either. Today, she would make Sun Wukong remember this lesson. She would grind that unruly monkey heart into dust so that he would never dare act arrogantly before her again.

So she did not stop and continued chanting each word with solemn precision.

Once, twice, three times.

Guanyin Bodhisattva finished chanting the Tightening Fillet Spell three times, yet she still did not stop. She continued into the fourth recitation. Her lips moved faster