Volume 3: A Long Journey, Chapter 207: The Forbidden Band Appears

Hou Zhu heard Guanyin’s voice and was filled with doubt. It was deep at night—how could Guanyin appear here? Had he burned down her temple, and could she still know about it from the South Sea?
He remembered hearing from an elder that the Buddha statues in every temple on earth were manifestations of the Buddha himself. The Buddha knew exactly which temples were bustling with worship and which were deserted. If anyone showed disrespect, he would immediately be aware of it. In the World of Journey to the West, Hou Zhu no longer believed such tales. But from a martial arts perspective, it wasn’t impossible for the Bodhisattva to leave a trace of her divine presence in each of her temples on earth.
Moreover, since this temple was on the essential route to obtain the scriptures, Guanyin should pay extra attention.
Guanyin stood in front of the Qilin and the Black Bear Demon, saying coldly, “Where do you two monsters come from? Why have you destroyed my temple?” Hou Zhu saw that the Bodhisattva neither mentioned that her own disciples had set the fire nor blamed him for fanning the flames. Instead, she pointed the blame at the Qilin and the Black Bear Demon who had just arrived—clearly with some other purpose.
The Qilin was taken aback. He hadn’t expected anyone to dare block his path. With a laugh, he said, “Who are you, woman, to dare stop me?”
Guanyin was even more surprised. She had appeared in her form as the Willow Guanyin—how could someone still not recognize her?
The Black Bear Demon whispered to the Qilin, “It’s Bodhisattva Guanyin.”
The Qilin glanced again and asked, “What is a Bodhisattva?”
Guanyin believed the Qilin was deliberately acting foolish. Though she couldn’t discern his strength, she considered herself to have few rivals in the world. So, without saying a word, she took out a willow branch and shook it lightly. Instantly, willow branches swirled everywhere, enveloping the Qilin tightly.
Some unknown magic allowed the Qilin to break through the layers of branches with flashes of white light, freeing himself and the Black Bear Demon.
“The guy has some tricks up his sleeve,” the Qilin said. Though these words were a great compliment, they sounded awkward in Guanyin’s ears. She was also extremely shocked—who was this red-haired man, capable of effortlessly breaking through her defenses? Could he also be a Hunyuan Golden Immortal?
Affected by his magic, Guanyin shouted, “Are you human or a demon?”
The Qilin sneered, “There are so many species in the world—what’s so special about humans? And what about demons?”
From his reply, Guanyin knew he was definitely not human but a demon. She was secretly pleased—if he was a demon, things would be much easier. She took out the forbidden band given to her by Buddha from her sleeve, threw it out, and recited a spell: “Ban!”

The qilin saw a golden hoop flying toward it. After probing it briefly, his expression changed drastically. He grabbed the Black Bear Demon with his right hand and met it head-on; the hoop landed precisely on the Black Bear Demon’s head. The qilin took a closer look and laughed heartily, saying, “This thing is utterly detestable. It’s perfect for me to take back—sooner or later, I’ll break its power.” Guanyin saw that the precious item hadn’t hit the qilin but instead settled on the Black Bear Demon’s head. Filled with regret and anger, she recited the spell for the restraining hoop as taught by Buddha. As soon as she did, the Black Bear Demon suffered intense pain and fell to the ground. The qilin pulled up the crying demon and flew west on the clouds, much to the amusement of Sun Wukong, who was watching from above. What bad luck for the Black Bear Demon! It refused to leave when told to and insisted on returning to Black Wind Mountain. It could have avoided the doom of the hoop, but human plans often fail against fate. Guanyin shouted, “Where do you think you’re going?” and chased after it. The qilin glanced back, spat out a stream of purple fire, which seemed to have eyes and pursued Guanyin relentlessly. After several dodges, Guanyin managed to escape, by which time the qilin had vanished without a trace. Guanyin gazed at the vast night sky and took a deep breath, lost in thought. When she turned around, her face showed no sign of disappointment—she remained the noble and dignified Guanyin. Wukong felt uneasy and stepped forward to bow, saying, “Your disciple greets the Bodhisattva.” Guanyin smiled and asked, “Do you recognize that red-haired man from earlier?” Wukong looked confused and shook his head. Guanyin nodded and said, “It’s good you don’t recognize him. That man must be a demon from Qitianling. Avoid any further dealings with them. Humans and demons are on different paths; achieving enlightenment is what truly matters.” Guanyin glanced at the ruined Guanyin Zen Monastery on the ground and sighed, saying, “Although you set fire to my Liuyun Branch Monastery, it was ultimately due to the greed of its monks. I don’t blame you. But why didn’t you come to help me when I was fighting that demon? Instead, you just stood there laughing.” These words made Wukong break into sweat. He had indeed been laughing at the Black Bear Demon for failing to escape the hoop, but how could he admit that? In a hurry, he made up a lie, saying, “I saw that hoop was a powerful magic artifact, perfect for controlling people, so I laughed.” Guanyin said, “You monkey always think of evil ways.” With that, she had no doubts and dropped the matter. Guanyin also understood the principles of the five elements. Living in the South Sea, she had predicted through divination that the Guanyin Zen Monastery would suffer a fire disaster and that she would find a right-hand helper to assist her.

Although the Guanyin Zen Temple was destroyed, she would surely suffer significant losses. Yet Guanyin Bodhisattva deeply understood the principle that “misfortune often hides behind fortune, and fortune often conceals misfortune.” It was a time when people were needed, and for this purpose, she too had to go through this ordeal. Seeing that the Guanyin Zen Temple indeed caught fire, she was secretly pleased. When she saw the qilin, she was overjoyed. Since the divination had already made things clear, this monstrous beast, comparable to a Hunyuan Golden Immortal, was undoubtedly the source of great help. This beast was extremely powerful; ordinary methods would likely not be enough to subdue it. Guanyin resolutely used the restraint ring given to her by Buddha. But to her surprise, the qilin reacted swiftly, and the ring ended up on a black bear instead. Guanyin felt somewhat disappointed, but if she could capture this black bear, her journey would not have been in vain. Yet unexpectedly, the qilin took the black bear away, leaving her with both losses. But who was Guanyin? She possessed extraordinary composure. Though she suffered heavy losses today, it could not hinder her spiritual resolve. She was just puzzled—how could her usually reliable divination skills suddenly become inaccurate? After giving Wu Kong a few instructions, Guanyin flew back to the South Sea. After her departure, Wu Kong began to ponder the words spoken by the qilin. When the qilin saw the restraint ring on the black bear’s head, it said, “This thing is detested by all. It’s perfect for me to take back; I’ll surely break through its power sooner or later.” From these words, it seemed the qilin had seen the restraint ring or something similar before. For some reason, Wu Kong suddenly thought of the phoenix. He wondered if this greatest spiritual bird in the world was also restrained by something similar. In Wu Kong’s view, those three golden rings were nothing more than beast-control devices. In “Journey to the West,” one ring was placed on Wu Kong, another on the Black Bear Spirit, and the third on Red Boy—all of whom had cultivation levels comparable to Taiyi Golden Immortals, showing just how powerful these magical artifacts were. After careful thought, Wu Kong realized that all three rings were controlled by spells and served similar purposes. The first common feature was that these rings seemed to only work on demons and monsters—Wu Kong and the Black Bear Spirit were both beasts, not to mention Red Boy, who had the blood of the Bull Demon King and the Rakshasi, so he was certainly not human. Second, in “Journey to the West,” the ring on the Monkey King was put on him out of curiosity. The one on the Black Bear Spirit was placed there by the Bodhisattva while Wu Kong was inside its belly in a panic. The ring on Red Boy was put on him after he was deceived into sitting in the Heavenly Sword Formation. Initially, the Bodhisattva intended to put the ring on the qilin but accidentally hit the Black Bear Spirit. This showed that using these rings also had certain conditions and was not always effective. Otherwise, why would the Bodhisattva go through so much trouble?

Since the headband couldn’t be used at will, Wukong felt much more at ease, no longer needing to live in constant fear. With this thought, he secretly vowed never to wear a hat on his head again.
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Tang Seng had a good dream all night and slept until dawn. After getting dressed, he pushed open the door—only to be shocked beyond measure. The courtyard and pavilions from the previous day were gone; all he saw was scorched earth and rubble. How desolate and pitiful!
Tang Seng cried out, “Wukong!”
Wukong, who had been lost in thought among the clouds, heard Tang Seng calling him and quickly jumped down. Tang Seng asked, “In just one night, how did this monastery change so much?” Wukong replied with a smile, “Master slept well. Last night was quite chaotic.” Tang Seng asked, “How chaotic?”
Wukong said, “The monks here coveted the nine-ring staff and also wanted to seize the treasures in our bags. Last night they set fire to try to burn and kill us. Fortunately, I was quick-witted and used magic to protect this little building.”
Tang Seng waved his sleeve and said in annoyance, “If you had magic, why didn’t you protect the other buildings?”
Wukong laughed, “They set fire to their own courtyard. As an outsider, how could I interfere?”
Tang Seng said, “You’re really unkind. They offered us food and lodging—how could we neglect them?”
Wukong replied, “The monks here are more and more vicious. It’s hard to count how many lives they’ve taken just for wealth. If I didn’t kill them one by one, I’d be being too lenient.”
Before Tang Seng could say more, Wukong added, “If you don’t teach them a lesson, who knows if they won’t do the same thing again? Think of the passersby—not everyone has my abilities. Who will save them then?”
After thinking for a while, Tang Seng agreed that Wukong was right. He said, “Since it’s already happened, there’s nothing we can do. At least we should go and offer our condolences.”
Tang Seng slowly walked down from the building. Some people with sharp eyes saw him from afar and cried out, “Those two evil demons are here to take lives!” Wukong approached with a fierce expression to scare the monks away, shouting, “Where is your abbot? Bring him out now!”
Guangzhi and Guangmou had already helped the old abbot out from the back courtyard. The old abbot had seemed energetic despite his aged appearance the previous day, but now he looked like a withered lotus in the wind—stopping every few steps, his face pale as if his life force was exhausted.
Seeing this greedy old monk, Wukong thought he wouldn’t live much longer. He lost interest in scolding him and simply said, “You greedy, foolish bunch! If it weren’t for me, who knows how many more evil deeds you would have committed!”

Wukong used his staff to point at them one by one, saying, “Those who are unharmed, scatter! Don’t tarnish the reputation of the Bodhisattva here!” Instantly, the monks in the temple scattered in panic.
Seeing the old abbot’s desolate state, Tang Seng stepped forward to comfort him, saying, “Abbot, as I said yesterday, all conditioned things are but illusions. Look at this vast monastery—gone in just one night; all the treasures now buried under ruins and dust. External possessions should not be taken too seriously.”
As Tang Seng spoke, he shook his nine-ring staff, which made a tinkling sound. The old abbot narrowed his eyes at the staff while listening to Tang Seng’s words, each one piercingly painful to him. All the treasures—wooden Buddha statues, wooden fish, silk robes—had been burned to ashes in the great fire, and even many bells and chimes had melted away; practically everything was destroyed.
The more he thought about it, the angrier and more anxious he became. Suddenly, fury surged in his heart, and with a “pfft,” he spat out a mouthful of blood, collapsed to the ground, and soon lost his breath.