Master and disciples continued on their way.
The sun sank westward, and the sky gradually darkened.
A towering mountain appeared ahead, its peaks like swords thrust straight into the clouds.
Among the jagged rocks, tigers and wolves could dimly be seen in ranks, deer in herds.
The pilgrims stopped to rest in a sheltered mountain hollow.
Ever since Xuanzang had given his approval and entrusted him with arranging this ordeal, Sun Wukong had seemed like a different person.
The monkey who had hung his head a few days before, weighed down by worries, was now brimming with far too much energy.
He never stayed idle for a moment.
One moment, he sidled up to Bajie, grinning as he asked about old affairs in the Heavenly Court, insisting on knowing whether Fairy Chang'e had worn a white dress or a red blouse back then, until Bajie's broad face turned the color of pig liver with anger.
The next, he hopped over to Little White Dragon and pestered him about how many treasures the West Sea Dragon Palace possessed, whether the Dragon King had lots of wives too, and whether he had any himself.
Then he plucked a whisker from the sleeping A-Hu, making the tiger leap up with a howl of pain and bare his teeth at the monkey.
Even Wujing was not spared. Wukong badgered him into reciting scriptures, rapping him on the forehead whenever he got a single word wrong.
Only after he had reduced everyone to bedraggled misery, leaving them "glaring furiously," did he stop.
Then Wukong stood with his hands behind his back, thoroughly satisfied, and assumed the air of a senior disciple:
"Master said Old Sun has full authority over this ordeal!"
"Don't look at your senior brother like that! I'm testing your meditative hearts! Helping