Jiang Ming followed the old monk to the side of a bridge, where three huge vats of fragrant oil had been placed. Every Lantern Festival, they were offered to the Buddha Lords here.
"Yes, there are three Buddha Lords here. Whenever they come, each of them tastes a whole vat of fragrant oil."
the old monk said.
Just then, a gust of wind swept over. The old monk grabbed Jiang Ming and prepared to leave. "Quickly, Holy Monk, the Buddha Lords are coming."
This was how ordinary people normally regarded immortals and gods—with both reverence and fear.
But Tang Sanzang had seen far too many demons and immortals. In the original story, he naturally was not afraid.
Jiang Ming was even less afraid, so he naturally ran over.
Then he was captured by the demons.
It was a very simple matter.
If he was not captured, how would his three disciples come to rescue him?
If he was not captured, how would they gather all eighty-one tribulations?
Therefore, he had to be captured.
Inside the demons' cave dwelling.
A bull demon circled Jiang Ming again and again.
"Where did this monk come from? How dare you set foot on Golden Peace Bridge and offend your master by blocking my path?"
a rhinoceros demon said.
"This humble monk came from the Eastern Tang Land and is traveling to Western Heaven to worship Buddha and seek scriptures. Since the three kings are all devout Buddhists, you should let me go."
Jiang Ming said.
"Who cares where you came from? You've delivered yourself right to our mouths. Why not wash you clean, slice you up, and fry you in the fragrant oil we just acquired?"
the second and third demon kings said.
Jiang Ming could only feel helpless. This time, he truly experienced