孙悟空戴上紧箍咒
唐僧把行李收好，拄着锡杖，牵着马，继续往西走。刚走出没多远，前面走来一个白发苍苍的老太太，手里抱着一件棉衣和一顶花帽子。唐僧连忙让路，那老太太开口问：“长老从哪来，怎么一个人走在这荒山野岭的？”
唐僧恭敬答道：“贫僧是东土唐人，奉旨前往西天取经。”
老太太叹了口气：“去西天可不是近路，有十万八千里哩！你这既没徒弟帮忙，又没人照应，怎么走得下去？”
唐僧也苦笑：“我本来是有徒弟的，可惜他脾气太暴，我说了几句，他就一气之下跑了。”
老太太听了，点点头：“我那儿子出家才三天就过世了，这身衣帽是他留下的，我拿来做个纪念。你既然有徒弟，这就送你了。”
唐僧连连摆手：“不敢收，不敢收，我徒弟已经走了。”
老太太笑着说：“他不是往东边飞走了吗？那边正是我家，我去把他叫回来。你且把这‘紧箍咒’默记心里，不能告诉别人。等他回来，你就把这衣帽给他穿上。要是他再不听话，你就念这咒，他自然就老实了。”
说完，老太太忽然化作一道金光腾空而去。唐僧这才恍然大悟，连忙叩拜：“原来是菩萨显圣！”他牢牢记下咒语，把衣帽小心收好。
再说孙悟空一路翻筋斗云，回到东海龙宫，龙王一见他大喜：“大圣怎么又回来了？是要重出江湖，再当山大王啦？”
孙悟空叹气：“别提了，我现在是和尚，跟唐僧去西天取经。不过今天我跟他吵了一架，一气之下就跑了回来。”
龙王一听：“你这不是半路撂挑子嘛？”
正说着，孙悟空无意中看见墙上挂着幅画，问：“这是啥？”
龙王解释道：“这是‘圯桥三进履’，讲的是张良三次替黄石公捡鞋，最终得授天书，成了大汉谋臣。你要是真想修成正果，也得学会忍耐，听师父的话，别再像个妖怪似的乱来。”
孙悟空听完，低头沉默了好一会儿，最后说：“别说了，我这就回去保他。”
龙王一听，连连点头：“这才像话！”
孙悟空刚走，半路又碰见观音菩萨。观音菩萨笑着问：“你怎么又跑出来了？”
孙悟空低头赔笑：“多谢您搭救，我已经认师父做了师，只是他太爱唠叨，我一时气不过，才赌气走的。现在回去还不行嘛？”
观音菩萨点头：“你若真有悔意，就快些赶路，修行可等不得。”
两人分别后，孙悟空翻身一个跟斗，飞回山中。远远地看到唐僧还坐在路边发呆，他落地喊道：“师父，你怎么还不走？”
唐僧抬头一看，惊喜又埋怨：“你一走了之，我怎敢独自上路？只好在这儿等你。”
孙悟空笑道：“我就是回东海喝口茶嘛，现在不是回来了。”
唐僧不信：“你刚飞走就回来了？你以为我傻？”
孙悟空拍拍胸脯：“师父啊，我这筋斗云，一翻就是十万八千里，快得很！”
唐僧苦笑：“我就说你两句，你就跑。我饿着肚子在这儿吹冷风，你倒喝上茶了，这不亏心？”
孙悟空赶紧说：“我去化点斋饭来给您吃。”
唐僧摇摇头：“算了，包袱里还有几个干饼子。你去找点水，我垫垫肚子继续赶路。”
孙悟空去翻包袱，果然摸出几个干烧饼，还发现了一件棉袍子和一顶花帽。他纳闷：“师父，这衣帽哪来的？东土时没见过啊？”
唐僧随口编了句：“我小时候留下的宝贝，穿上能自动行礼，戴上会自己念经。”
孙悟空听了两眼放光：“那我能穿吗？给我穿上试试呗！”
唐僧假装推辞了两下，说：“你能穿就穿吧。”
孙悟空高高兴兴地脱下旧衣，穿上棉袍，又戴好花帽，正美着呢。唐僧看他穿好，眼神一凛，心里开始默念咒语。
只听孙悟空一声惨叫：“哎哟！头疼啊！”
唐僧继续念，孙悟空疼得打滚翻腾，连金帽子都抓破了。他一摸，发现头上居然多了个金圈，怎么扯也扯不下来。他又掏出金针想挑开，唐僧赶紧又念咒，孙悟空只觉脑袋像要炸了，翻来覆去直打滚。
唐僧终于停下，孙悟空才缓过劲来，气喘吁吁地问：“师父，是你念的？”
唐僧淡定地说：“我只是念了‘紧箍经’，你怎么反应这么大？”
孙悟空不信，说：“你再念一遍试试。”唐僧一念，孙悟空又疼得满地打滚，连连求饶：“别念了！师父，您一念我就疼，真的疼！”
唐僧语重心长：“那以后你肯听话了吗？”
孙悟空一边揉脑袋一边点头：“听，听，绝不顶嘴了！”
嘴上答应着，心里却还不服，刚想再动针挑圈，唐僧又开始念了，疼得他扔下铁棒，直接跪地求饶：“别念了！我真的服了！”
他忍不住问：“师父，这招是谁教你的？”
唐僧回道：“一个白发老太太。”
孙悟空一听就炸：“肯定是观音菩萨！她怎么老害我？我要去南海找她评理！”
唐僧劝道：“你想清楚，人家教得了我，自然也能自己念。你真去闹，等她一开口，你连命都保不住。”
孙悟空一想，也是这么回事，彻底服了。他跪下来磕头：“师父，我再也不跑了。这紧箍咒是菩萨给你用来收我的，我认了。以后就是翻山越岭、刀山火海，我都不后悔。”
唐僧终于露出笑脸：“既然服了，那就来扶我上马。”
孙悟空立刻一口答应，麻溜地收拾好包袱，把袍子扎紧，牵马在前头开路。师徒俩重新踏上西行之路。
Sun Wukong Put on the Tighten Hoop
After packing up his belongings and giving his horse a reassuring pat, Tang Sanzang resumed his westward journey and jingling his tin staff with each step. He hadn’t gone far when he spotted an old woman with snow-white hair shuffling toward him, clutching a padded robe and a floral hat in her arms.
Tang Sanzang politely stepped aside to let her pass, but she stopped and asked, “Where are you coming from, traveler? And what’s a holy man like you doing alone in these wild, godforsaken mountains?”
Tang Sanzang bowed respectfully. “I am a humble monk from the Tang Empire in the East. I’ve been tasked with traveling to the West to retrieve sacred scriptures.”
The old woman sighed. “The West? That’s over 100,000 miles away! And you’re traveling solo? No disciples, no protection? How do you expect to survive the trip?”
Tang Sanzang gave a sheepish smile. “I had a disciple. Strong fellow, but a bit… hot-headed. I said a few words he didn’t like, and he stormed off.”
The old woman nodded knowingly. “My own son passed away three days after becoming a monk. These clothes were his. I’ve kept them as a keepsake. But since you’re on a sacred journey, you can have them.”
Tang Sanzang waved his hands. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly accept. My disciple is long gone.”
But the old woman just chuckled. “Didn’t he fly off to the east? That’s where I live. I’ll go fetch him back. In the meantime, memorize this little chant. It’s called the tightening spell. Don’t share it with anyone. When he returns, dress him in this robe and hat. And if he acts up again… well, just recite the spell. He’ll settle down real quick.”
Before Tang Sanzang could respond, she vanished in a flash of golden light.
“A Bodhisattva!” he gasped, immediately dropping to his knees in reverence. He committed the spell to memory and carefully tucked the robe and hat away.
Meanwhile, Sun Wukong was cloud-surfing back to the Dragon King’ Palace of East Sea. Dragon King of East Sea welcomed him with open arms.
“Great Sage! Back so soon? Don’t tell me you’re rejoining the gang and taking back your mountain throne?”
Wukong sighed. “Not exactly. I’m a monk now, believe it or not. Heading west with a bald guy to fetch scriptures. But we had a fight earlier today, and I stormed off.”
Dragon King of East Sea raised an eyebrow. “You mean you bailed halfway through the journey?”
As they spoke, Wukong’s eyes landed on a painting on the wall. “What’s this?”
“That?” said Dragon King of East Sea. “It’s the story of Zhang Liang who picked up shoes three times for the old sage Huang Shigong. In return, he was gifted a book of wisdom and became a top strategist for the Han dynasty. Lesson is: if you want enlightenment, learn patience. Listen to your master. Don’t go around acting like some wild demon.”
Wukong went quiet and stared at the floor. After a long pause, he muttered, “Fine. I’ll go back.”
Dragon King of East Sea beamed. “Now that’s the Monkey King I know!”
As Wukong flew off again, he bumped into Guanyin halfway through the sky.
“Off on another joyride?” she teased.
Wukong scratched his head. “Thanks again for saving me. I’ve accepted Tang Sanzang as my master. But he talks too much. I lost my temper and left without any explanation. I’m going to go back to his side right now.”
Guanyin nodded calmly. “If you’re truly sorry, then stop wasting time. Enlightenment doesn’t wait around.”
They parted ways. Wukong somersaulted straight back to the mountain. Sure enough, he spotted Tang Sanzang who was still sulking by the roadside.
“Master! Why are you still sitting here?”
Tang Sanzang looked up, half overjoyed, half scolding. “You ran off and left me! How could I go on alone? I had no choice but to wait.”
Wukong grinned. “I just went to the East Sea and had a quick cup of tea. And look, I’m back!”
Tang Sanzang frowned. “You flew back right after you left? Do you think I’ll believe you?”
Wukong thumped his chest. “One flip of my cloud takes me 108,000 li! Very fast.”
Tang Sanzang rolled his eyes. “I say one thing and you run off. I’m sitting here starving in the wind, while you’re off sipping tea. Don’t you feel the least bit guilty?”
“I’ll go find you some food,” Wukong offered quickly.
“No need,” said Tang Sanzang. “There are some dry cakes in the bundle. Just fetch me some water so I can chew them down and we’ll keep moving.”
Wukong rummaged through the pack, pulled out the cakes, and paused. “Hey, where did this robe and hat come from? We didn’t have these in the East!”
Tang Sanzang, thinking fast, said, “Oh, those? Childhood keepsakes. After putting on this robe, one can automatically perform the salutation. And after putting on this hat, one can start chanting scriptures automatically.”
Wukong’s eyes lit up. “Seriously? Can I try them on? Just once?”
Tang Sanzang put on a show of reluctance, then finally gave in. “Well, if they fit…”
Wukong happily stripped off his old rags and put on the robe and hat, admiring himself like a kid in a costume shop.
Tang Sanzang watched him closely. The moment Wukong was dressed, his eyes narrowed. Silently, he began reciting the spell.
Suddenly, Sun Wukong let out a wail. “OW! My head! What is this?!”
Tang Sanzang kept chanting, totally unfazed. Wukong was rolling on the ground, clutching his skull like it was about to explode. He even tore a hole in his golden hat. Reaching up, he found a shiny metal hoop stuck to his head. No matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn’t budge.
Panicking, he pulled out a golden needle, ready to pick it off. But before he could try, Tang Sanzang started chanting again. BOOM! Another wave of pain hit like a hammer to the brain. Wukong flailed and flipped, howling on the ground like a fish out of water.
When the chanting finally stopped, Wukong lay gasping for breath. “Master… was that you?!”
Tang Sanzang answered calmly, “I was simply reciting the tightening spell. Why? Did it hurt?”
Wukong scowled. “You try saying it again.”
Tang Sanzang obliged. Before he finished the second syllable, Wukong was on the floor again, kicking and screaming. “Stop! STOP! Okay, okay! I get it!”
Tang Sanzang folded his hands and asked gently, “Will you listen now?”
“Y-yes!” Wukong clutched his head. “No more backtalk, I swear!”
But even as Wukong nodded, he wasn’t totally convinced. He reached for the needle again, thinking he could still get that hoop off, but Tang Sanzang started chanting mid-thought. With another shriek, Wukong dropped his staff and hit the dirt, bowing again and again. “I give up! I’m done! You win!”
Wukong groaned. “Master… who taught you that horrible spell?”
“An old lady with white hair,” said Tang Sanzang.
Wukong’s eyes bulged. “That has to be Guanyin! Why’s she always out to get me?! I’m going to the South Sea to demand justice!”
Tang Sanzang stopped him with a raised hand. “If she taught me the chant, don’t you think she can use it herself? You go storming into her temple, she’ll knock you flat before you can open your mouth.”
Wukong froze. Fair point.
He dropped to his knees and knocked his head to the ground. “Master, I won’t run anymore. This hoop? It’s from Guanyin and meant to tame me. I accept that. No matter what trials lie ahead: mountains, monsters, fire pits, I’m with you.”
Tang Sanzang finally cracked a smile. “Good. In that case, help me back on the horse.”
“Yes, Master!” Wukong leapt up, tied his robes, packed the bags, grabbed the reins, and took the lead.
And just like that, the two of them were back on the road to the West.
本章完，感谢阅读！
