The lesser demons exchanged bewildered looks, winking and nudging one another.
How had one trip to Western Spirit Mountain changed not only their king's temper, but even his name?
Niu Aimin?
Why did that sound like he belonged to the same generation as Old Man Li's dim-witted farming son down the mountain?
Niu Aimin looked the demons up and down, his brows knitting still tighter. The little demons wore animal skins wrapped haphazardly around themselves, leaving most of their shoulders bare.
There was nothing wrong with that, really. Being a demon was all about doing as you pleased.
If they could go naked, they went naked; if they had to dress, they wore as little as possible. Their kings had never cared.
But.
The reformed Niu Aimin was different. He intended to care!
"Look at yourselves! What is going on here?"
"Such hideous attire! Where is your dignity? Change it, all of it! Go put on clean Daoist robes at once! And remember, your shoes must be polished clean! Only a dignified appearance can showcase the spirit of our Green Cloud Mountain!"
The lesser demons were dumbstruck.
Daoist robes? Showcase their spirit?
Was this still the king they knew, who ran naked all over the mountain and talked of eating Tang Sanzang's flesh whenever he opened his mouth?
Had the Bodhisattva squeezed his brains out of shape during his trip to the Western Heaven?
Had someone possessed him?
"Hmm?" Seeing the lesser demons standing there like wooden posts, Niu Aimin snorted coldly and raised his chin a fraction.
Whoosh-
A crimson spark shot from his nostril and landed on a slab of bluestone nearby.
At that sudden display.
Every hair on the lesser demons' bodies stood on end. They snapped out of their daze.
"That's right!"
"Now that's the familiar