Bald Bandit Tang Sanzang: Eight-Pack Abs in Two Months, Guanyin Could Only Call It Absurd

The fierce tiger probably never expected a fair-skinned, delicate-looking monk to charge at it of his own accord. In the instant it froze, the Nine Ringed Staff had already smashed down on its crown with a howling gust of wind.

With a dull thud, the tiger's head was driven straight into the ground. Its four paws twitched a few times, then went still.

Tang Sanzang stood where he was, looking down at his slightly trembling hands, then at the tiger lying dead beyond doubt on the ground. Suddenly, he smiled.

From that point onward, he completely let himself go.

There had to be at least eight, if not ten, tigers that had died by his hand by now. Some had run into him themselves, while others had been deliberately sought out by Tang Sanzang.

Whenever he spotted signs of tigers in the distant mountain forests, his eyes would light up. He would shoulder his zen staff and plunge into the woods, looking even more tiger-like than the tigers themselves.

At first, Guanyin Bodhisattva had tried all sorts of ways to stop him from killing.

She would suddenly appear just as Tang Sanzang raised his zen staff and say in a dignified yet reproachful tone, "Sanzang, Heaven cherishes life. As a disciple of the Buddhist Sect, how can you kill so casually?"

Or she would descend from the sky while he was skinning a tiger, frowning as she said, "Sanzang, excessive killing will affect your Buddhist heart. These creatures may be dull-witted, but they are still among all living beings. Why must you take their lives?"

Whenever Guanyin appeared, Tang Sanzang would stop, press his palms together, and wear a respectful expression as he said, "This humble monk knows his mistake." But once Guanyin left, he still killed what he needed