"You don't know? You never thought about it?"
"I say the aura of calamity has gone to your heads, and pig grease has blinded your hearts!"
Wukong barked at them.
His shout sent a shudder through the three immortals. Involuntarily, they turned and followed his gaze toward the stretch of sand.
On the sand.
The withered monks still knelt where they were, their heads raised as they stared blankly into the air. Shanbao stood at the very front, grinning.
Wukong turned back to the three immortals.
"Since you don't know the truth, Old Sun will spell it out for you today."
"They've survived these twenty years not because their lives are hard to snuff out, but because they couldn't die even when they wanted to. Why?"
"Because immortals have been secretly protecting them, refusing to let them die."
"And which immortals do you suppose have been protecting them in their spare time?"
Wukong took a step forward. Golden light swirled in his Fiery Golden Eyes as his gaze swept over the three immortals' ashen faces, one by one.
"The Six Ding and Six Jia, the guardian Sangharama, and that old fellow Taibai Jinxing."
Great Immortal Huli's lips began to tremble.
"They visited their dreams every night and protected them in secret. When they hanged themselves, the ropes snapped. When they threw themselves into rivers, they wouldn't sink. Their bodies remained safe and unharmed."
Wukong tilted his head, put away the Golden Cudgel, and folded his arms across his chest, his voice dripping with mockery:
"Never mind the Buddhist Order's guardian Sangharama, who ought to have come."
"Just take the Six Ding and Six Jia and Taibai Jinxing. Aren't they all proper immortals and divine generals of the Daoist Order?"
At those words, Wukong's scathing rebuke sent hot blood surging