The old monk kindly gave a strategy name to the obstacles that hindered Tang Seng's journey west—The East Mountain Guerrilla Warfare.

Our strategic layout is relatively simple, focusing on deceiving, tricking, and stealing, striving to make this journey to the west seem authentic.

Main methods include but are not limited to digging traps, hitting with a stick, throwing sand, spitting, poking eyes, and kicking the crotch.

As Tang Seng and his disciples were about to leave the mountain in front, the three of us were diligently digging traps.

We almost dug the roads through East Mountain, and with our tireless efforts, the traps were dug to a depth of ten meters.

We guarantee that as soon as Tang Seng steps in, he will either fall to his death or be seriously injured.

A rest for ten days or half a month is not a problem, and with a few more falls, we estimate that our performance task will be overachieved.

The only problem is, we didn't bring a ladder when we came...

Finally, the depth of the traps was fixed at one meter, and the pits below were filled in.

When we came out of the traps, Tang Seng and his disciples had already gone around, leaving the demon king Bēnbō Ěr Mà scolding impassioned Bai for being brainless.

However, opportunities are always reserved for those who are prepared, no, monsters.

Perhaps it was because East Mountain was calm, Tang Seng's three disciples all had good karma and went to explore the road ahead.

Only Tang Seng was left, and us three little monsters couldn't break through the circle drawn by Sun Wukong.

So, Bēnbō Ěr Mà decisively stole the vegetarian food that Tang Seng had karmically received.

I must say, the food of the monks was much better than that of East Mountain.

There were peaches in the package, probably food specially prepared for the Great Sage Equaling Heaven.

The demon king, greedy, drooled, so the three of us shared the peaches.

After eating our fill, the demon king asked me:

"What if Tang Seng and his group come looking for us?"

I burped, patted my belly, and replied:

"Just for a few peaches, it's not worth it."

Bēnbō Ěr Mà also patted his round belly and asked:

"Then, what if it's for over a hundred peaches, is it worth it?"

Over a hundred peaches??? Which family on the Western Heaven's pilgrimage brings over a hundred peaches? A Peach Banquet?

The demon king smirked:

"That... Bēnbō Ěr Mà, actually, before sharing the peaches with you, we each ate more than eighty of them."

I spat out an old blood on his face, over a hundred peaches would be enough for Sun Wukong to eat for over a month.

Previously, Bēnbō Ěr Mà just asked the old monk for a steamed bun and got into a big fight.

If he were caught by the monkey this time... I remembered Guanyin Bodhisattva giving Bēnbō Ěr Mà 1,600 big fights.

Frightened, I shrank my neck and hurriedly called out:

"Run!"

And not far away came a angry shout:

"Which monster dares to catch my master... no, my peaches!"

Following that, a green smoke rose, and Sun Wukong had already flown up on his somersault cloud.

The three of us were so scared that our souls almost fled, and we hurriedly ran into the river.

I heard that Sun Wukong couldn't swim, so once in the river, it would be the world of our fish spirits.

But we forgot that the demon king was just a... human demon...

When Sun Wukong arrived, he was squatting in the shallow water, still bubbling.

The monkey grabbed him, angrily shouting:

"Which monster dares to catch my peaches!"

The demon king looked at the monkey's tiger-skin skirt:

"Gross, how could I, the magnificent demon king, grab your peaches."

The monkey's face turned green with anger, he reached for his staff ready to strike.

I, being more clever, grabbed a stone and came out of the river:

"This handsome... handsome monkey, I am the river god here, may I ask, did you lose this stone peach or that stone peach?"