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The stone path was splashed with water. The giant waterfall was truly magnificent, just as his brothers had described it, even more beautiful than he had imagined originally.
It made sense that a Trickster God take this place as his home, the Water Curtain Cave was a secret area within Huāguǒshān, situated in the heart of the mountain, the cave itself was hidden behind the huge waterfall that flowed into the eastern sea, the overflowing trees and the wild grass open as if they knew that there was something sacred inside this very cave. Even from the outside, he could feel the spiritual energy that poured out of the cave’s entrance.
It wasn’t just the residual energy of a celestial being, but it was the unmistakable mark of a protective spell. It was obvious to Erlang Shen that the Monkey was inside the cave, and for the stillness around him, most of the troupe was inside as well, protected by their king. The truth was, he had never seen the Demon King who had caused some much trouble to the Jade Emperor (his uncle, he thinks with self-loathing) and his Court. Honestly, he didn’t think it was worth his time to chase after a little demon monkey. But his uncle had called for him, and he couldn’t ignore a direct order like that.
This is the reason he’s here, standing in front of the ominous waterfall, and the reason neither of his sworn brothers was standing behind him, nor was Xiaotan Quan was at his side at that moment. Well, that last part wasn’t entirely accurate; he had chosen to be alone, more out of whim than necessity, or because of his paranoid uncle's orders. If he were going to shed someone’s blood, the least he could do was confront his opponent directly (though he had to remind himself that he wasn’t there for blood or flesh; it was just an arrest).
For a brief moment, he contemplated the best approach to confront his opponent, the Bodhisattva Guanyin had informed him the tendence of the monkey to lie and mock of everyone, even steal, without a piece of shame. Ideally, he could treat this like any other hunt of any other monster (yaoguai), but this is an extraordinary situation. It had been a long time since he had experienced the satisfaction of hunting prey that didn’t merely attempt to flee but fought back before succumbing to defeat at his feet.
Once again, he reminded himself that he couldn’t just tear the monkey apart. Even if the emperor didn’t care for the demon’s fate, he just sought the satisfaction of knowing himself to be the master of all creatures within the Three Realms.
Now that he had decided to stalk his prey first, he realized he needed to approach the demon differently, not as himself. In an instant, the divine and beautiful form of Erlang Shen began to shift into the figure of an ordinary man. His armor and yellow tunic were completely replaced by the dark armor worn by celestial soldiers. Erlang had not lost sight of the traces of blood and torn flesh from the soldiers he had encountered along the stone path leading to the cave.
With a vague plan in mind and illusory magic enveloping him, he hurried out from the foliage surrounding the waterfall, walking steadily toward what he assumed was the entrance. Just as he was about to take another bold step toward the waterfall, a small group of monkeys rushed out, wielding their weapons with a precision greater than one would expect from a band of wild primates. To his surprise, one of them stepped forward and exclaimed bravely.
“Who are you? Did one of your generals send you?” The small monkey glared at him fiercely, with disgust, which sparked a slight sense of amusement in Erlang. However, he maintained an expressionless demeanor before responding curtly. “I come seeking your King, on orders of his Majesty, the Jade Emperor. Ask him to come out quickly.”
“You still haven’t told us who you are! Do you even know that our King has defeated all the generals and gods who came to challenge him? Who are you to demand to see him?” So, the monkey has not yet known defeat, at least according to this little subject’s proclamation. “I will admit that I am nobody worth facing, but my own general has yet to confront your King, and I’m sure he wouldn’t fare so well against him.”
The insolent little monkey seemed surprised for a moment before his mocking sneer returned. “Then who is your general? Tell us his name quickly! That way our King can defeat him.” Erlang Shen hurried to suppress the slightest hint of a smile, keeping his amusement to himself. “I wouldn’t be so arrogant. But if a name is what you need to call your King, I’ll let you know that my general is Erlang Shen, the True Lord of Guankou.”
That seemed sufficient for the small group; their apparent leader snorted in disdain before rushing into the cave with the rest, their tiny bodies disappearing entirely behind the waterfall, which glowed warmly with a golden hue, as if welcoming them.
He had barely stood outside for a few minutes before the curtain of water parted sharply into two perfect halves, still flowing toward the sea. For a moment, he caught a glimpse inside, the cave was filled with more vegetation, with flowers and herbs growing among the carved rocks, and a path made of iron that seemed to lead elsewhere. He didn’t have the chance to continue observing when the lean, awkward figure of a monkey lazily walked out, looking at him with indifference.
He didn’t even wear armor. Perhaps the most distinctive feature of the monkey was that he stood at the height of a short human. It didn’t seem natural; he was large for a monkey but small for a human. Aside from his height, the rest of his appearance seemed designed to intimidate: a grayish-blond fur covering his body, claws where there should have been duller nails, a more humanlike posture than one would expect, and golden eyes that lacked the slightly unfocused gaze typical of animals in nature.
Yes, he was indeed a Demon King, yet he bore none of the decay usually associated with demons. The thing about demons is that they are often unaware of the sin they commit when consuming human flesh. Human meat leaves a unique trail of blood that rots over time, and the more it is consumed, the worse the stench becomes. But this monkey showed no signs of such a thing.
How had he achieved such a level of strength and enlightenment that his subjects claimed he had effortlessly defeated every god who came to face him?
“A foot soldier? Is that the best Heaven has to offer?” the demon mocked derisively. “Did your general send you to die or to deliver a message? I’m not sure which is more amusing.”
Erlang Shen couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It seemed this monkey acted solely out of arrogance, even daring to present himself without armor or weapons.
“I didn’t come for either of those reasons. I came to demand the release of the soldiers who presented themselves here.” Before he could even finish stating his demands, the monkey was already mocking him. “Release? Boy, are you blind? Didn’t you see the trail of corpses behind you? I don’t take prisoners.” Of course, Erlang was aware of the corpses, but the number of dead didn’t add up. “I advise you, your Majesty, to be honest. While I certainly noticed the corpses you left behind, 100,000 celestial soldiers presented themselves here. If they were all dead, even the flowers wouldn’t be able to cover the smell of death.”
The king quickly mocked him again, waving his hand dismissively. “Some cowards escaped, of course! And many were devoured; it’s been days.” Once again, his reasoning seemed plausible.
“Not enough for every trace to be gone. Monkey King, I must ask, what have you done with them?”
This elicited a different reaction, a malicious grin, pride was getting the better of the monkey.
“Before I tell you, who was your general? Ah, yes, Erlang Shen! I heard that the emperor’s sister came down to the mortal world and bore a child, a demigod. This is the same Erlang, isn’t it?” If the monkey expected a reaction from him, he received nothing more than a cold nod in response. While his exterior remained as icy as ever, a liquid fury coursed through Erlang's heart for a moment. He couldn't bear the monkey's dismissive tone when mentioning his mother.
“If you’re so curious about what I did with them, why don’t you find out for yourself? Perhaps your general would be interested to hear what happened to them.”
The monkey lazily gestured toward the clearing around them. Confused, Erlang allowed himself to look away from the monkey and follow the direction of his hand. The path remained unsettlingly silent until he heard the cry of a dying animal. If it weren’t for his keen eyesight, he would never have noticed the group of macaques that had managed to hunt a wild boar.
Hunted like true animals. It was an undignified end for such loyal soldiers.
Anger coursed through Erlang like an old friend, and, as such, he welcomed it calmly, letting it flow through him before locking eyes with the monkey before him. The mocking grin only made his hands clench reflexively.
“You’ve turned them into animals.” The demon before him burst into laughter at his words, his figure shaking with disdainful mockery. “I didn’t turn them into anything, kid! It’s what they’ve always been.” Erlang couldn’t help but grimace in contempt; just because his disguise allowed it, just because any soldier would show arrogance, and just because, at that moment, he was not Erlang Shen. “You're hunting them like animals. The same thing that will happen to yours when this senseless rebellion ends.”
Once again, he had chosen his words wisely, as the monkey stopped laughing immediately and stared at him intently. For a moment, Erlang swore he felt the awareness of the bloody, hungry thing in his chest stir, as if it recognized an equal for an instant. That look on the monkey's face… he had seen it before on his own.
“You’re quite brave for a mere soldier.” For a moment, the monkey regarded him with genuine disgust before forcing a smile. However, if Erlang remembered correctly, that wasn’t a smile; it was a direct threat. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here staging this little theater, but you’re crossing too many lines, kid.”
Slowly, the monkey raised his hand to his ear, pulling something from within before revealing a dark golden staff. A faint golden glow of celestial energy surrounded the divine weapon. “Want one advice from this old man? I recommend you run, kid, because if you make a single move that displeases me, you are done for.”
He could no longer continue this charade; this senseless game had to end now.
“It’s not my intention to insult your abilities, but I seriously doubt you can even hurt me.” The monkey did not seem surprised; he merely smirked and aimed the staff directly at Erlang’s face. “Is that what you think? Then why don’t we find out how much you can endure under my staff? Just so you know, it’s a divine weapon that will strike you directly, brat!”
“Then I must be of just as divine a lineage as it is, because I assure you, you won’t land a single blow.”
If he were to recount this exact moment to someone else; the tense moment before they erupted into a vicious and bloody battle that would lead them to their new fates, he might say it was a brief and concise introduction. He faced the monkey out of the minimal respect he had for daring to challenge the Heavens, and yet emerged with a smug smile to greet him. That would be all.
But at this precise moment, Erlang couldn’t force himself to abandon his own deception.
It seemed the monkey didn’t care; he no longer appeared relaxed but rather irritated by Erlang’s arrogant demeanor (as if he could speak).
“I like your attitude, boy. But it’s not the best time to be a foolish brave.” As soon as he said this, he struck the tip of his staff against the ground, producing a sound that reverberated from the earth throughout the mountain. A light surged along the ground from where the staff had touched. As if the mountain itself responded to the call of its self-proclaimed King, who was now clad in battle armor and a crown of phoenix feathers. The monkey was also done playing games. “So, let me make the situation clear for you, brat. I have a troop to protect children I cannot neglect. I will not continue playing the foolish games of your Heavenly Court. Try to do anything, any trick or lie, and I will finish you off.”
Ah, so that was the situation. Ironically, it seemed they weren’t as misaligned as he had initially thought. Still, he smiled confidently at the King.
“Then you’ll be surprised to know that I’m aware of every one of your tricks. Any attack or spell you know will be useless; I’ll know immediately what you do.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie; his Celestial Eye could see through any evil or deception.
“That can’t be possible; you must be—” The monkey looked confused, then almost panicked. “No, you can’t be one of his disciples. You couldn’t even be such an enlightened Immortal!”
Erlang lazily brushed his fingers over one of the flowers growing in the vines around him before plucking it to admire it between his fingers. It seemed even the flora of this mountain was imbued with the same spiritual energy as the monkey. Or perhaps it was the monkey who was steeped in the magic exuding from this land.
“Maybe I’m as spiritual as you, because I’ve only had one master in my life, and I can assure you it’s not yours.” He brought the flower to his nose, gently inhaling its sweet aroma. Perfectly sweet. The monkey looked at him in confusion for a moment, sizing him up before sneering, regarding him with even greater disdain than before.
“You’re one of those War Gods, aren’t you?” He said this while looking at Erlang with an unimpressed expression, almost appearing bored by his discovery. In fact, the monkey's sudden indifference momentarily threw Erlang off balance. He stared at him in silence before sighing and tossing the flower aside. With it, his own spell fell away, revealing his true, formidable form.
“Alright, yes.” Suddenly, his weapon materialized directly in his hand. His majestic three-pronged, double-edged spear gleamed dangerously in the sunlight. “But I didn’t lie; I will see through any of your deceptions, so I recommend you surrender immediately.”
Sun Wukong regarded him with new interest, smiling threateningly before pointing at him with his staff.
“Since you filthy Celestials love these games, why don’t you play with me again, Erlang Shen? This time, I’ll make sure to win!”
And those are his last coherent words before their first battle begins. Every time he has fought in his life, perhaps since the very moment of his birth, Yang Jian has always felt the culminating despair for divine blood and flesh. From the first moment the Celestial Armies appeared at his childhood home, when he had to fight with nothing but his nails and a flimsy sword for his own life and for his sister; his beloved sister, Sansheng Mu. As they fled through their family estate, crossing the forests to escape the gaze of the sun (the emperor’s watchful eye), they survived by stealing and praying to return to a home that no longer existed. And when an immortal man took them into his sect; his only master, Yuding, he taught them how to tear apart entire armies and how to stand tall in every battle to come.
In each of these moments, something crackled beneath his immaculate skin, something that begged to be fed with the blood of the gods. In his most desperate moments, it even pleaded for mortal blood; the dirtiest and most repugnant substance to ever dare fall into his mouth. Throughout his life, his body has moved to kill, to hunt in the most brutal way possible. Yuding merely gave shape to the amorphous, bloody thing in his chest, allowing it to exist in the world without being classified as a demon.
Demigods should not exist. When they are born, the Celestial Realm is immediately aware of their presence; they know that a mistake has been made in their perfect system. Demigods (like him) are made of mortal flesh and divine blood; they possess mortal minds and divine feelings. They are a contradiction, and their lives are doomed.
Erlang Shen has been a contradiction since his birth. He cannot bear the idea of immortality, yet at the same time, he cannot stand mortals (he protects their lives, but their minds… that’s another matter). He is a consecrated and revered God of War, yet he longs for the blood of his peers. He detests the patron god of the Celestial Realm, but he would never dare to disobey a direct order. He has a mortal mind and divine feelings.
The gods find love in the most violent acts. Mortals are not made for such feelings, as they twist love into the point of obsession. It's not that the gods are different; they simply have better ways of coping with such love.
Love and loyalty have governed Erlang's (Jian) entire life. It is loyalty that compels him to fight against Sun Wukong, a monkey he hardly knows, having only heard a whisper of him brought by the Third Lotus Prince. All he knew when he faced this confrontation was that Sun Wukong was a Demon King who had recklessly rebelled against Heaven.
What Erlang discovers next is that Wukong is an insolent monkey, but one with more to lose than he had anticipated. He has a family he will protect with his last breath, and he would rather be condemned than allow Erlang to destroy his mountain. During their titanic battle, Erlang realizes that the Great Sage is more beautiful than he initially believed.
Wukong's almond-shaped eyes, which Erlang had thought were cold gold, turned out to be the deepest and brightest amber he had ever seen. His fur looked golden, hidden beneath his black and red armor, and was as captivating as the silky hair of a pampered lover. His posture bent like the finest and most flexible bamboo he had ever encountered, and his strong shoulders were a blessed sight for Erlang's weary eyes. His smile and wild laughter were refreshing to his ears, almost making him forget that he was supposed to capture this monkey.
In truth, Sun Wukong looked perfectly divine in the heat of battle.
Even as Erlang began to corner him, pushing harder and harder, his own divine presence manifesting and pressing fervently against the magic Wukong had infused throughout the mountain.
The situation reached a turning point. Wukong noticed the retreat of his troops and his children, overwhelmed by the fear of witnessing the staggering and almost horrifying power of their King. In the end, it was only to be expected that this marked the beginning of the end.
Sun Wukong barely hesitated for a moment before abandoning his fight against Erlang, rushing behind his children to shield them from the sight of Erlang's sworn brothers, trying to preserve as many lives as he could while escaping his opponent's gaze.
But Erlang Shen did not lie when he said that no matter how clever the deception, he could always see through it. It wasn't long before he had the monkey cornered once more, raising his own spear, and pressing it mercilessly against the monkey's throat.
“You lost…”
The blade of the spear hovers over the golden skin and fur enticingly, like a lover dangerously pressing their teeth against their partner's neck.
“Is this your way of winning? By attacking others outside of our fight? You are little more than a coward and a cheat! Are you even a man?” The ape growled in irritation, sneering every now and then as the blade sank in more firmly, just enough to break his divine skin and drip blood from the tip down to his jugular.
“The ways of Heaven are the correct path; it is neither your place nor mine to question them.” He responded immediately, as if it were a mantra he had repeated over and over. Perhaps he was not just trying to convince the King. “It matters little now; you lost the game.”
The monkey watched him in silence, making a terrible grimace, as if he could not bear the mere idea of losing; not just to him, but to anyone. To the very Emperor he had humiliated and challenged. Finally, he sighed heavily, his body relaxing, causing the blade to sink more easily into the muscle of his exposed throat.
“No.” Suddenly, he gripped the iron blade, not hesitating even as he tightened his hold enough for his blood to drip. It was a foolish move; Erlang could cut off his fingers in a single move. “My monkeys are my grandchildren and children; I would protect them at any cost. The last time I left them, they suffered a tremendous loss.” he stated with aplomb, as if it pained him to admit it. “I cannot accept a defeat that would only lead to their deaths in the end.” For some reason, the monkey was now staring at him intently, and his voice seemed to shift into forms Erlang couldn’t comprehend (subtleties had never been an inherent trait for him). “I’m sure you understand; after all, you are the beloved son of Lady Yunhuan.” His hand seemed delicate next to the blade of the spear, his long, slender fingers resembling those of a noblewoman, dangerously tracing the lethal edge before slowly grasping the dark weapon.
"I can't promise protection for yours. It won't matter if you surrender now." That seemed to pull the monkey out of the strange, seductive, and tempting aura that had enveloped him. His hand froze for just a moment before he chuckled breathlessly, turning his fingers back toward the tip of the blade that still pressed dangerously against him, gently pushing his finger against the point.
"You can’t? Would you let innocent beings die, Zhenjun? You protect mortal humans, whom you neither adore nor love. Is a troop of monkeys too much for you?" He questioned, looking at him through his thick golden lashes, which concealed the sharp gaze of contempt that burned like the sun itself. "Zhenjun," he purred slowly, leaning closer to the weapon to raise his other hand, adjusting the spear to point directly at the center of his chest. "There are many ways to reach an agreement. Many forms of persuasion. Why don’t you show me your willingness to capture me?"
The gods find love in the most violent acts. They found their lovers among murderers and tricksters, and their spouses in the worthiest person they encountered.
But Erlang Shen is not a god, not really. He is Yang Jian, the beloved son of Lady Yunhuan, Princess Yaoji; a demigod by birth, with the bleeding heart of a mortal, unable to endure the divine feelings that seep through him.
This is why he does not hesitate to move the weapon abruptly, pushing the monkey against the dirty ground and cruelly sticking the tip of the spear into his chest (it's not his chest, no. It's his sternum, he destroyed it in a single movement).
The monkey doesn't look particularly surprised, though that could be because he screams at the impact as he slams onto the ground, and then shrieks in pain as his bone cracks, snapped in half. Before he starts laughing softly, his wheezing laughter soon becomes almost hysterical.
“So, I wasn't wrong about you, dirty Celestials!” There was a strange madness in his eyes, even as he growled while Erlang drove the tip of the spear deeper with more venom, ensuring the monkey couldn't move. “You’re no better than any of them.”
“No. I’m much worse than them.” Erlang Shen replied steadily, leaning over Sun Wukong. “I’m worse than any of them because I’m more human than they are.”
Wukong looked at him with fury, a wild grin on his face and the eyes of a demon, raising his bloodied hand to push his blood-covered thumb against the pink lips of the beautiful man in front of him.
“Yeah. Now I can see it… You’re not a God; you’re so human. It’s disgusting.”
Sun Wukong’s blood was the most addictive thing that had ever touched his tongue. It was heavy and spicy, with a sweet, metallic aftertaste that had always quelled the insatiable hunger in his chest.
“Since you find it disgusting, wouldn’t you let me taste more of you?”
Yang Jian had been mistaken. Sun Wukong’s troop fleeing had not been the beginning of the end. The true beginning of the end was this moment, when he tasted Wukong’s blood until he was sated, until the hunger that had gnawed at his insides stopped, satisfied to have found the divine blood he craved.
The way the King allows him to cling to his open wound even pushing him to press his tongue and mouth harder against his bleeding skin and fur, desperately pulling away the broken armor. Perhaps the monkey also felt the endless chain of mistakes between them; perhaps he, too, could sense the repercussions of this encounter, where only the rawest and most visceral emotions existed between the two, and the depth of the sins they were committing by doing this.
This mockery, a crude and wild imitation of an intimate moment, clinging to each other like old lovers, with little more than the robes beneath their armor separating skin from soft fur (surprisingly soft for a stone monkey, and isn’t that just another ugly irony?), whispering promises they have no intention of keeping, claiming each other like fierce lovers, when their bodies and their lives don’t even belong to themselves.
It was the beginning of the end for Erlang Shen because the next time they met, Sun Wukong would be a disciple of Buddhism, and the time after that, a disciple of Buddha, with the golden body of a consecrated being under the blessed hand of the Tathagata. By then, touching his body once more would have been a flagrant sin.
A sin.
Yang Jian’s family had never had a problem committing sins in name of love. And love and loyalty were the only thins that had guided Yang Jian’s life.