#shameless jiankong

[mythologyfolklore]

Liù'ěr Míhóu joins the jttw gang, or: How to redeem an all-hearing celestial monkey with a superiority complex and a seriously bad attitude

(A/N: TW: mention of genocide, self-harm (kinda) and mutilation)

Chapter Twenty-nine: The Great Sage speaks with the Little Sage

.

Later, as the two groups made their beds, Liù'ěr Míhóu approached Zhū Bājiè with an unusual request: “Hey. Mind if tonight I rest on that big belly of yours?”

Zhū Bājiè looked at him like he'd just gone even crazier. Understandable.

Just when the six-eared monkey thought he'd broken the pig's brain, the latter finally asked: “But … what about my snoring?”

“I've grown used to it and found it has the benefit of drowning out all the background noise and giving me something to focus on. And since you don't toss or turn in your sleep, I don't have to worry about tumbling off.”

Bājiè's face grew even more doubtful. “And my stink doesn't bother you either?”

Liù'ěr Míhóu shrugged: “I'm gonna tell you a secret, Third Brother: I have no sense of smell to speak of.”

“Aha.” Bājiè shrugged as well, then lay down and tucked himself in. “Alright, if you wanna, go ahead. It doesn't bother me.”

Liù'ěr Míhóu immediately climbed onto the the pig's giant rump, yawned and sprawled on his elder brother like a starfish.

“So”, he started right away. “You saw what I saw, right?”

Bājiè grunted: “What, the sensual tension between these two and that the great Èrláng Shén has feelings for our Eldest Brother, while Eldest Brother is feeling … something for the Illustrious Sage?”

“Oh, good, we are on the same page here! Do you also think this is kinda stupid?”

“Absolutely. These two gotta sort their shit out, Youngest Brother. Doesn't mean everything has to be sunshine and rainbows afterwards, but sorting out their shit would help them a lot. You know what I mean?”

The macaque chuckled: “Oh, yes. Sadly, it won't happen anytime soon that they sort their shit out and by the time they do, there will be a lot more shit to sort out.”

Bājiè groaned: “Ugh, they're both idiots!” The monkey felt him tense. “Please don't tell them I just said that.”

Liù'ěr Míhóu patted the belly beneath him in reassurance. “Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.”

“Thanks.”

“And I agree; they're both emotionally stunted dumbasses. Though in my opinion Èrláng Shén is even more of an emotionally stunted dumbass, because he'd rather repress his own feelings than get his head out of his arse, apologise and try to start from scratch.”

The pig chortled.

The macaque became pensive. “What a sad, sad man he is. He has my pity.”

Bājiè hummed in agreement, then started snoring.

Wow. Never seen someone fall asleep that fast before!

Oh well. That just meant the monkey could focus entirely on the two loveb- uh, the two rivals having a heart-to-heart at the nearby cliff under the moon. Because of course he had noticed how the Monkey King and Èrláng Shén had snuck away as the others had been settling down. Dorks.

They were approximately 50 feet away, enough for anyone else to not hear them (except for Liù'ěr Míhóu himself, of course).

It was a bit hard to tune out Bājiè's snoring, but for Liù'ěr Míhóu that wasn't much of a hindrance. He filtered it out to focus on the two men he wanted to listen in on.

For a while the god and the monkey sat in silence. Liù'ěr Míhóu could hear Èrláng Shén's heart race, while Wùkōng's heartbeat was calm.

In the end it was Sūn Wùkōng, who spoke first: “Ninety-eight percent.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ninety-eight percent. Forty-six thousand. That's how many of my grandchildren are lost. Over 25 000 of my children burned to death, another 15 000 starved to death or left, and a few thousands more were killed by poachers. Just in case you wanted to know.” Wùkōng's voice was flat. But he needed no accusatory tone to get his point across.

When Èrláng responded, his voice was subdued and sombre: “I see. Thank you for telling me. I … I didn't know I killed so many. I didn't even realise there was no army to defeat, until I saw all the dying civilians.”

(Liù'ěr Míhóu could hear the nigh inaudible crunch of his fellow disciple's claws digging into the rock under his fingers.)

“… You didn't know I had no army.”

“No. When I received my order to exterminate your kin for your crimes against Heaven …”

“What did they say?”

“Huh?”

Wùkōng sounded impatient: “What did they tell you? How did they word it?”

A sigh. “… 'Go and wipe out that accursed monkey's troop'. That's what my uncle said. Considering your crimes against Heaven, that would have meant wiping out your entire clan. Since you have none, I though it meant your army, as it does for humans. It was only after the crime was committed, that I learned from Golden Cicada that 'troop' is the monkey equivalent to 'clan'. But of course by then it was too late.” A bitter snort. “I would have asked them to give me fifty whip lashes for every murdered civilian, but I didn't even know how many monkeys died. So I had Golden Cicada burn my back with Samadhi Fire instead.”

“I didn't know you knew Golden Cicada personally.”

“They were my best friend from my childhood, until they reincarnated.”

“Oh.” There was the sound of someone shifting along the ground. “Can I see it? The scar. I just feel like seeing proof that you felt some of my babies' pain-”

There was the rustling of clothes, as Èrláng Shén complied with the request. “Here. Can you see it in the dark?”

“Yes.”

A few seconds of silence later, Èrláng Shén gasped, his breathing trembled and his heartbeat quickened.

Sūn Wùkōng sounded focussed, as he examined the burns. “This looks really bad. Much worse than the burns I got from Hóng Hái'er. Or Shàncái, as he's known now. Maybe you've met him? Guānyīn's newest disciple?”

“Yes, I have met him. Of course it looks worse, Golden Cicada and I had much more time to perfect our True Samadhi Fire.”

“But it's been 500 years, these burns should have been healed by now! Or did Golden Cicada not …?”

“No. I asked them not to. No one healed your subjects, why should I have that privilege? Golden Cicada didn't like my logic at all, but they complied.”

“… Does it still hurt?”

“No.”

(Liar.)

“I don't believe you. There is no way that doesn't hurt.”

A slightly annoyed groan. “Alright, fine. It hurts like Dìyù, especially when a living furnace of a person touches it! Happy?”

“No, but it's better than a lie. Isn't it uncomfortable, when these bandages rub against the skin?”

“I'm not taking them off, just so you can-!”

“I don't want to see your breasts, dammit! What the fuck, gawking at naked people is gross!”

“Well, tell that to all the creeps I've caught spying on me, while I bathed!” A short pause. Then an amendment: “Or don't. Because I killed them all. And no one will ever find the bodies, because I made a quick buck selling them on the black market.”

(Liù'ěr Míhóu could hear the sinister smile in Èrláng's voice.)

The Monkey King chortled: “Yeah, that sounds like something you'd do!”

“Hey! They had it coming! Unlike …” He didn't finish that sentence, but it was clear, who he was referring to.

(Awkward silence, part three.)

Then Èrláng spoke, solemnly: “Great Sage. I want you to know, that I never once have been proud of my actions. Never. If I could reverse them and bring back your grandchildren, I would.”

There was a gulp and a slight hitch in Sūn Wùkōng's breath, before he replied in a clipped voice: “… Good.”

Suddenly there was a sniffle, which seemed to concern Èrláng. “Great Sage?”

“Can you swear to never hurt them again?”, Sūn Wùkōng croaked, clearly trying and failing not to cry. “I-I'll give you anything, anything you want, if only you promise me! Promise me, that you'll never hurt my babies again!”

“You don't need to plead, nor offer me anything at all, Great Sage. There are only two things I want in this world and you cannot give them to me.”

“ … Oh.”

“But I can give you this: I, Yáng Jiăn, Èrláng Shén, the True Monarch and Illustrious Sage, swear; that I will never again enter your territory with harmful intent, never again harm anyone under your protection, nor forget the wrong I did. The heavens, the earth and the Dìyù are my witnesses. And if I ever break this oath, then … uhhh …” His solemn tone turned awkward, as he couldn't think of a punishment.

But the Monkey King seemed to have an idea: “If you break your oath, your pretty hair will fall out!”

“M-my hair?!?”

“Your hair!”

“D-does it have to be that?”

“Well, your hair seems to be very important to you, so yes!”

After a sharp inhale, Èrláng conceded, teeth-gnashingly: “… Fine. If I ever break this binding oath, my hair shall fall out. Happy?”

“Quite.”

“… My beautiful hair …”

“There, there”, Sūn Wùkōng cooed mockingly. “Let this be an incentive not to break your promise!”

Èrláng grumbled: “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want! I'd love to see your face, if you ever lost all your fur!”

The Monkey King mock-gasped: “But Little Sage! Without my fur, I would be … naked! Do you really want to see me like that?”

“… I walked into that one, didn't I?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

(Liù'ěr Míhóu struggled not to laugh out loud and alert everyone to his wakefulness.)

“…”

“… Well? Something else to say, Little Sage?”

Èrláng seemed to be thinking, whether he should say it or not. (Judging by his heartbeat, which was getting quicker again, he was flustered.)

After a while he mumbled: “You know, I hope we can battle again one day. Without any arrests or Lăozi ruining it, of course. I … I really enjoyed fighting you.”

When Sūn Wùkōng, there was a smile in his voice: “Yeah, I admit that was pretty fun. Tell you what, if I ever feel better about you, I'll let you know and we'll have a friendly spar. Just you and me, without that old man being a buzzkill.”

“In a barren landscape, where we can go all out and engage in immortal combat and never give in, until finally one or even both of us collapse from exhaustion, or has to leave because something came up?”

“Obviously.”

“I'd love that.”

“And don't worry; I won't make any inappropriate sex jokes on the battlefield again!”, the monkey teased.

(Liù'ěr Míhóu was confused – inappropriate sex jokes on the battlefield? He hadn't heard anything of that! – but decided to keep listening.)

Èrláng Shén groaned: “Ugh, don't remind me! I can't believe you did that! A bustard, are you kidding me? Of all the transformations! You might as well have held up a sign that said 'slut and proud'!”

(Ohhhh, that kind of inappropriate sex joke!)

The Monkey King snickered: “Well, actually I'm not interested in the act itself and never was, so I'm not a slut, but I love myself a good joke! You should make a few too! Everybody loves a man with a good sense of humour!”

“I do have a sense of humour!”, the three-eyed god protested. “Just because it doesn't align with yours, doesn't mean it isn't there! You know what's funny to me? Getting my hands on someone who's wronged me or someone I care about, watching them grovel and beg for their lives, as I look down on them and laugh like the war criminal I am, before ripping them to shreds!”

Sūn Wùkōng's heartbeat went faster and his breathing grew a bit heavier.

“Holy fucking shit, that's hot!”, he whispered. “I hear stuff like that from Six Ears a lot, but for some reason it sounds so much better coming out of your mouth!”

(That's because you're simping for him!, Liù'ěr Míhóu thought drily. I'm going to tease you. I'm going to tease you relentlessly, until you're gonna wish for a hole you can hide in, but even that won't save you from my teasing!)

Èrláng chuckled: “Well, good to know that we're both bloodthirsty and battle-hungry madmen.”

“And I'm not ashamed to admit it! My Shīfù hates it though. 'Stop murdering people, you crazy apehead, killing is wrong', wah, wah, wah! I just kill the people, who are trying to kill him! Thing is, if he knows they're demons, he doesn't complain, but as soon as he thinks they're human, it's torture time! Sure, he has promised me not to do it again, but he's said that before and broken his word, and I don't believe him anymore! Was Golden Cicada like this?!”

“No”, answered Èrláng. “There was not one false joint in their exoskeleton. They had several shelves full of scrolls and books filled with promises made, just to make sure they wouldn't forget. But they could dish out some nasty punishments to people they felt deserved it. Aside from the True Samadhi Fire, they also possessed several powerful magical treasures.”

“What happened to them?”

“Golden Cicada entrusted them to Yùdĭng Zhēnrén for safe-keeping, to not be given to anyone but their 10th reincarnation. In other words, they belong to your master, if he wants them back. And my Shīfù is much more watchful and cautious with his possession than Lăozi and all the idiots, who can't watch their own pets.”

“Don't remind me! Ugh, they're so annoying! First the old man's assistants ran away with his shit, became demons and tried to eat my master, then the old man's bull ran away, turned into a demon and tried to eat my master, and don't even get me started on that time Guānyīn's goldfish got away, turned into a demon and-”

“Tried to eat your master.”

“Obviously. But I called her and she got him back. Looking back it was kinda funny, though. Bājiè got his arse handed to him by a goldfish!”

“He did?” Èrláng burst into laughter: “Hah! Oh man, I wish I had seen that, I really do! I will totally tell Cháng'é! She's going to love this!”

“But wait! There are more funny stories! You ever heard of the Empire of Women?”

“Of course, why?”

“Okay, so-”

He then proceeded to regale his former nemesis with the story of how his master and Bājiè had gotten themselves knocked up by a magic baby river.

(Èrláng Shén found it just as funny and ironic as Liù'ěr Míhóu had)