Beneath the setting sun, the walls of the Women’s Kingdom glowed with a soft pink hue. Xuanzang reined in his white horse, his Adam’s apple bobbing unconsciously. The air was thick with a cloying, sweet fragrance, strangely familiar.

Sun Wukong’s golden eyes flickered, sharp with vigilance.

“Master, a strong demonic aura hangs over this land. We should take a detour.”

Xuanzang replied sternly, “A detour would add three months to our journey.” His voice was lower than usual. “The Buddha teaches us to deliver all living beings. The people of the Women’s Kingdom are living beings too.”

They passed through the city gate. The streets were lined with women, from young maidens with black hair to elderly white-haired women, all gazing with curious eyes.

Zhu Bajie drooled so much it soaked his robes and flattered eagerly, “Master was right! Old Pig thinks this place… is in desperate need of Buddhist enlightenment!”

Sha Wujing shook his head silently, gripping his demon-subduing staff.

The women cast aside their reserve and surged forward, bursting into deafening cheers.

“Come see the men!”

Some stroked Xuanzang’s white horse; others tried to tug at his kasaya.

Xuanzang froze stiff, silently reciting Buddhist scriptures over and over in his heart.

“Holy Monk, you have traveled far. This humble queen has failed to greet you properly.”

A voice clear as spring water cut through the noisy street. The crowd parted at once. Xuanzang looked up to see a royal carriage approaching slowly. The wind lifted the pearl curtain, revealing the Queen of the Women’s Kingdom, leaning gracefully, her lovely face half-hidden, shy and delicate.

“This humble monk… greets Your Majesty.” Xuanzang bowed hastily.

The Queen smiled faintly. “No need for such formality, Holy Monk. I have long heard of the virtue and wisdom of the great monks of the Eastern Lands. I have prepared a vegetarian feast to welcome you all.”

That night, moonlight flowed like water. The Queen hosted a banquet in the royal garden.

Xuanzang sat on a brocade cushion beside her.

Maids in sheer silk danced to enchanting music. The Queen poured wine for him repeatedly. Each time she leaned over, a delicate fragrance and subtle charm washed over him.

“Holy Monk… have you ever thought of returning to secular life?” she teased.

Xuanzang panicked. “Y-Your Majesty jokes. This monk is on an imperial mission to fetch the scriptures. How dare I—”

“Why fetch the scriptures?” the Queen interrupted, her almond eyes locking onto his. “To deliver all living beings? Then am I not a living being? Are my people not living beings? Why will you not save us?”

Xuanzang fell speechless.

“This humble monk… is unwell. I must take my leave!”

He practically fled back to his chamber, bolted the door, and knelt before the Buddha, reciting scriptures desperately. But the Sanskrit mantras dissolved into the Queen’s teasing laughter, and the faces of the Buddha statues blurred into her alluring eyes.

Torn and restless, Xuanzang tossed and turned, a thought forming in his mind.

He glanced out the window. Sun Wukong was also awake, practicing staff techniques in the courtyard, his Golden-Hooped Rod whistling through the air.

That same night, Xuanzang summoned Sun Wukong alone.

“Wukong, this master has a request.” His expression was grave. “It concerns the success of our scripture-seeking mission.”

Sun Wukong scratched his head. “Speak, Master.”

Xuanzang took a deep breath: “I want you to transform into my appearance and lead Bajie and Wujing west on their own.”

Sun Wukong’s eyes widened. “What are you saying, Master?”

“The Queen has agreed that her entire kingdom will take refuge in Buddhism,” Xuanzang said solemnly. “But she requires me to stay and preach for three years. The scripture mission cannot be delayed. Only you can take my place.”

Sun Wukong stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly sneered.

“Master, do you take this Old Monkey for that fool Bajie? I see right through you.”

Xuanzang’s face paled, then darkened.

“You reckless ape! Since you see through me, I shall not hide it.” He raised his hand sharply. “If you disobey, I will chant the Binding Spell until you beg for life and wish for death!”

Pain and disappointment flashed in Sun Wukong’s eyes.

“Master… you have changed.”

Xuanzang laughed coldly. “You were a demon I subdued. Now you dare defy my order?” He prepared to chant.

Sun Wukong clutched his head in agony.

“Stop! This disciple… submits.”

The next morning, the false Xuanzang — actually Sun Wukong in disguise — led the scripture-seeking group in farewell. Zhu Bajie looked back repeatedly, reluctant to leave the city full of beauties; Sha Wujing remained silent, yet deep doubt lingered in his eyes.

The Queen of the Women’s Kingdom held the real Xuanzang’s arm, standing on the city wall, watching the group depart.

“Can the Holy Monk rest easy now?” she giggled, feeding him a grape.

Xuanzang put an arm around her slender waist, thoughtful. “One is missing. Who will take Wukong’s place?”

The Queen pouted playfully. “That Six-Eared Macaque is no ordinary demon—he’s an exact duplicate of Sun Wukong, with the same looks and powers that no one can tell apart. Tired of living as a wild demon, he has long wished to cultivate immortality and attain Buddhahood. He’s waiting for them halfway right now.”

Xuanzang froze. The Queen tapped his forehead with a delicate finger.

He snapped back to his senses and followed her back to the inner palace.

From then on, they indulged in pleasure night after night.

Truth will out.

Demons along the path were thrown into confusion. They gathered, discussed, and decided to upgrade their weapons and abilities one by one.