I couldn’t sleep last night, due to high stress from exam studying endeavors, so I took a break to try my hand at writing a story of sorts. My brain is exhausted from all the scholastic absorption I’ve been pounding in to it this week. I really needed a creative writing break. So this story is based off of the characters and plot from the book Journey to the West, a Chinese novel that was originally published in the 16th century. Good ole’ Wikipedia notes Journey to the West as:
“…an extended account of the legendary pilgrimage of the Tang dynasty Buddhist monk Xuanzang who traveled to the “Western Regions”, that is, Central Asia and India, to obtain Buddhist sacred texts (sūtras) and returned after many trials and much suffering…” alongside his ragtag crew of disciples consisting of:
I have not read the novel myself as of yet, but I do plan on it in the future. For now, this is just an experimental dabbling in to the world of storytelling. I want to try to exercise my imagination muscles and really get down with my subconscious fantastical tendencies. Well, let’s see where it goes. I may or may not continue the story, but here is chapter 1 of my [potentially interesting and exciting] novel dedicated to a novel.
Adventures of the Monkey King
Part 1: Distorted Retribution
Born of a most divine mountain range, the Monkey King waltzes idly atop his stone prison.
His shining golden eyes search with indomitable curiosity across the vast plateau below.
What he seeks is adventure beyond wildest imaginations, riding the clouds and exploring the world.
The Jade Emperor and Buddha colluded to confine him to that mountain’s bleak peak.
After all, it was he, Sun Wukong, who forced the soldiers of heaven to stir, causing a long, bloody war.
As the sun subsided behind the distant horizon, Wukong [for short] contemplated his madman plan.
“225 more years of this 500-century imprisonment left,” he said, bereft. ‘I’ll wreak havoc on this land with just my left hand.”
He wields his Jingu Bang – the celestial staff he won from the Dragon King – which can bend and extend.
It can transform and grow to colossal proportions, or shrink to the mere size of a tiny hairpin.
Whilst mulling over escape plans in his head, the monkey barely noticed the approaching drunk monk.
Inquisitively cocking his head back and forth, he decides to reveal himself to the ignorant traveler.
“Hark, o benevolent one who dares enter my rocky pass,” called the ape, with a slight hint of sass.
The monk slowly turned to recognize the new voice, eyes wide in disbelief at his luck and good fortune.
“It was thee whom I sought on my journey thus far, for I am in need of new disciples, and you’d make the right choice,” cried the monk in delight, in his tipsy high voice. “My name is Xuanxang, but you can call me Tang,” his jubilant tone sang.
At this suggestion Wukong’s face lit up with joy, since that meant he could finally end his confinement.
He grasped the monk’s hands in open agreement, ignoring the truth of the vow he’d mistakenly taken.
His heart now belonged to the holy bodhisattva Guanyin, Goddess of Mercy, forgiver of sin.
He felt it leave his body in a painless farewell as it leapt for the outstretched hands of the heavens.
An elysian gold band was embedded on his head to keep his unruly roughneck behavior in check.
“If ever this lad starts to act like a cad, simply mutter this mantra to restrict him a tad,” said Guanyin to the monk. “Oṃ maṇipadme hūṃ,” She whispered, nearly unheard. “Until the end of your journeys alongside Xuanxang, I must stress that you are powerless to remove this headband, Sun Wukong.” “Pardon, oh gallant, esteemed guardian of the heavenly peach tree garden,” she added, with a laugh.
Disappearing in an ethereal cloud of sparkling mist, she left the two travelers there, eyes still transfixed.
With his mouth hanging open in stark disbelief, Wukong gradually exhaled a grief-stricken sigh of relief.