The moment Sun Wukong landed back on Mount Huaguo, he heard the sounds of monkeys shrieking and cranes crying, which were high-pitched and mournful, like someone was weeping.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “My kids! Sun Wukong’s home!”

From every crack in the rocks, every treetop and streamside, monkeys came pouring out like floodwaters. They surrounded him, wailing and bowing.

“Great King! You’re finally back! We waited every day till our eyes nearly went blind! Some nasty demon showed up, kicked us out of Water Curtain Cave, bullied us, kidnapped our brothers. We tried to fight, but he’s way too strong! If you hadn’t come back, we’d be homeless by now!”

Wukong’s hair bristled with rage. “A demon? In my house? Tell me exactly where he is. I’ll go knock his teeth out right now!”

“He calls himself the Demon King of Havoc,” the monkeys said, kowtowing. “He came from the north… or so he says.”

“How far north?”

“He rides the clouds. Sometimes he brings thunder and storms. We’re not even sure where his lair is.”

Wukong gave a cold laugh. “No need to worry. I’ll handle it.”

And with a flick of his legs, he launched into the sky on his somersault cloud, shooting northward. Before long, he spotted a looming mountain, steep, dark, wild. “Yep,” he muttered, “looks like a proper villain’s hideout.”

As he scanned the terrain, he heard voices. He followed the sound to a cave built into the cliff. Over the entrance were the words: Water Filth Cave.

A few little demons were horsing around outside. The moment they spotted Wukong, they shrieked and bolted.

“Don’t run!” Wukong yelled. “I’m the rightful master of Water Curtain Cave. I hear your so-called king’s been picking on my monkeys. I’m here to settle the score!”

The demons ran straight into the cave. “Boss! Trouble! A monkey’s outside. He says he’s the Lord of Water Curtain Cave and wants to fight you!”

The Demon King of Havoc burst out laughing. “Sun Wukong’s back? What’s he look like?”

“He’s got no weapon. Red robe, yellow sash, black boots, bald head. Not quite a monk, not quite a priest.”

The Demon King of Havoc strapped on his armor, grabbed his broadsword, and stomped out with his goons.

He squinted at Wukong. “You the cave master?”

Wukong snorted. “Open your filthy eyes. Sun Wukong is here in the flesh!”

The Demon King of Havoc looked him up and down. “You’re tiny. Unarmed. You really think you can take me?”

Wukong grinned. “I may be small, but one punch from me can knock the moon out of the sky. Wanna have a try?”

Before the demon could blink, Wukong lunged forward and threw a punch straight at his forehead. The Demon King of Havoc caught it with a grin.

“You’re too short,” he said. “Fighting you barehanded feels unfair. Still… let’s settle this with fists. No weapons.”

Wukong laughed. “Fine by me. Let’s see whose knuckles are tougher!”

They went at it—fists flying, feet kicking, trees shaking, sky spinning. It was a brawl for the ages. But as the fight dragged on, the Demon King of Havoc started to panic. He suddenly drew his blade and swung.

Wukong dodged in a flash.

“Alright, playtime’s over,” he muttered.

He yanked a handful of hairs from his arm, chewed them up, spat them out, and shouted a spell. Poof! Hundreds of tiny monkey clones exploded into existence. They swarmed the demon. Some yanked his ears and others pulled his beard or tail, turning him into a living chew toy.

While the Demon King of Havoc flailed, Wukong leapt forward, snatched the broadsword, and brought it down in a clean arc—schlack!—splitting the demon clean in half.

Wukong stormed the cave, drove out the remaining minions, and looted the place top to bottom.

Wukong dusted off his fur and noticed some monkeys weren’t his clones. “You guys weren’t summoned,” he said. “Who are you?”

“We’re your people!” one cried. “That demon captured us when he took over. He stole everything from our homes too!”

Wukong clapped a hand to his thigh. “Then what are we waiting for? Pack up your stuff. We’re taking it all back!”

He lit the Water Filth Cave on fire and soared home on his cloud, the rescued monkeys following behind.

As Mount Huaguo came into view, cheers erupted. The monkeys raced to meet him, throwing their arms in the air like confetti.

A feast was thrown—fruits, wine, banners, music. Everyone toasted their king’s return and begged to hear where he’d been.

Wukong smiled slyly. “Settle in. It’s a long story.”

So he told them: how he’d crossed oceans, searched for wisdom, wandered far and wide, and finally met a mysterious immortal who taught him the secret of eternal life.

The monkeys clapped and hooted. “Talk about lucky! That’s once-in-a-thousand-lifetimes stuff!”

“I even have a name now,” Wukong added proudly. “Sun Wukong.”

The monkeys cheered even louder. “If our king is ‘Sun,’ then we would all have the surname Sun!”

There was coconut wine, grape wine, mystical fruit—one big fuzzy reunion. Their king was home. Life was good.

And Wukong? He kept that broadsword and started training these monkeys harder than ever. He drilled the monkeys daily to carve spears from bamboo, make wooden swords, post guards, and build camps. Before long, Mount Huaguo looked more like a jungle fortress.

But one day, Wukong sat and thought: We’ve got energy, sure. But bamboo sticks? Wooden blades? What happens if we run into real soldiers or wild beasts? We need actual weapons.

“Where can we get some?” the little monkeys asked.

Just then, four elder monkeys stepped forward—two red-bottomed macaques and two broad-backed apes. They bowed.

“No need to worry, Great King. Just two hundred miles east is the Kingdom of Aolai. Lots of people, lots of blacksmiths. If you go yourself, you’ll surely find what you need.”

Wukong lit up. “Perfect! You all stay put. I’ll be back in no time!”

And with that, he leapt onto his cloud and vanished into the sky, heading straight for Aolai.

Just outside the city, Sun Wukong looked around at the bustling streets and crowds. “Buying things one by one? Way too slow,” he muttered. “Time to speed things up.”

With a flick of his fingers and a quick chant, he summoned a fierce windstorm. Sand flew. Tiles cracked. The sky darkened like dusk. People screamed as they scattered. Even the king and his officials dove into the palace and locked the doors, trembling.

Amid the chaos, Wukong slipped into the armory. The place was packed with swords, spears, halberds, axes, you name it. He grinned. “So many goodies, but I’m just one monkey, how am I supposed to carry all this?”

Without missing a beat, he plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them up, spat them out, and cast a spell. Poof! Hundreds—no, thousands—of little monkey clones appeared, all ready for action.

The place was cleared out in minutes.

With another gust of wind, Wukong and his monkey army vanished into the sky, weapons and all, heading straight back to Mount Huaguo.

The local monkeys were happily monkeying around when a sudden roar of wind and thunder shook the skies. They looked up and nearly fainted. The sky was swarming with flying monkeys!

Just as panic was about to set in, the clouds parted, the wind died down, and there was Wukong standing on a peak, laughing.

“Come on out!” he shouted. “Time to gear up!”

Weapons rained down like treasure. The monkeys went wild—kneeling, cheering, grabbing swords, swinging halberds, dancing with whips. They trained nonstop all day and barely remembered to eat.

By the next morning, the drills were in full swing. When Wukong did a headcount, he was shocked. 47,000 monkeys in total!

News spread fast. Nearby beasts were shaken. Wolves, tigers, panthers, apes, bears, plus the demon kings from the seventy-two caves. All came bringing gifts. One by one, they bowed to Wukong and swore loyalty.

From then on, Mount Huaguo was a fortress. Offerings came with every season. Roll calls happened daily. Some demons joined the drills; others farmed or gathered fruit. The whole place ran like a military camp. Nobody dared mess with it.

The demon kings even sent drums, banners, armor, and more weapons. The monkey troops practiced day and night. The mountain rang with the sound of war cries and laughter.

And Sun Wukong? He, as the King of Mount Huaguo, stood at the center of it all and proud of it.

End of this chapter. Thank you for reading!

This is just the serialized version of Journey to the West (modern retelling). If you want to read the full book faster, check out the complete, easy-to-read English and Chinese (Simplified & Traditional) version on Amazon.

Enjoy Chinese literature? You can also explore my other full, easy-to-read classics like Water Margin, The Injustice to Dou E, and more on Amazon.