Wukong stood up and looked at them.
He slowly began, "Ever since I escaped from beneath Five-Finger Mountain, I've followed my master westward, step by step, cultivating the Buddhist path and turning toward goodness, delivering myself and others."
He paused, lowered his head, and looked at his open palm.
"In this life, Old Sun has wreaked havoc in Heaven and stormed the underworld."
"I've never regretted it. I thought I stood tall between Heaven and Earth, owing no one anything."
He slowly clenched that hand.
"But in the end, I owed you."
Marshal Ma stood at the very front, simply watching Wukong, watching that clenched fist, without a word.
Marshal Liu stood beside him, head bowed, crushing the clod of earth in his hand.
General Beng leaned on his iron staff, his mouth opening and closing, his face twisted with utter bewilderment.
General Ba stood behind him, tugged his arm, and shook his head, signaling for him to hold his tongue.
The little monkeys tilted their heads up timidly.
Some were still sobbing. Others had stopped crying and simply watched their king, waiting for him to continue.
Wukong went on, "You don't understand why I let those people go. I know."
"Let me tell you a story."
The corners of his mouth shifted in something not quite a smile. He fell silent for a moment, as though recalling something from a very distant past.
"When my master says something no one understands, he tells a story."
"Whenever my fellow disciples and I did something wrong or couldn't understand something, he'd sit there just like that and tell us one, slowly and calmly."
"And once he'd finished, we'd understand."
Wukong unclenched his fist and sat cross-legged on the ground, leaning forward slightly with both hands resting on his knees.
"Today,