Portraits

影神图

This book is bound by:

Black Myth: Wukong is a game by Game Science, published in 2024. This is a collection of the in-game journal entries. This is a fan project and for personal use only; no profits are made from this typeset.

Journal entries provided by https://blackmythwukong.fandom.com/ Journal portraits taken from Black Myth: Wukong

Typeset by EggFriedPenguin in Berlin, Germany 2024

Lesser Yaoguai (From Chapter 3-4 of the game)

第三、四章节中出现的小妖

—— ——start of the text —— ——

Supporter Monk

支应僧

Strength with no place to show,

Lifting stones, a futile throw.

Eyes bright yet lost in haze,

Empty gaze, in self's maze.

In the past, the craftsmen building the grand hall at the New West frequently encountered strange occurrences, leading many to quit. Curious, one craftsman sought out the abbot, reputed to be a high monk, for answers.

The abbot, without hesitation, led him to the Great Pagoda, where he revealed the Lantern Warden. The craftsmen were terrified, having heard tales of yaoguais in their youth but never having seen one. At that moment, a wondrous sound echoed through the Great Pagoda, and the Lantern Warden emitted a blinding light, causing the craftsmen to lose their sight. They cried out in despair.

The abbot smiled and said, "To see the truth, one must be willing to sacrifice. You might as well stay in this temple and practice the path to ultimate bliss with me. Perhaps you will have the chance to transcend the mortal realm and reach the Buddha's kingdom."

Realizing they were now blind and unable to find work, the craftsmen decided to abandon the secular world and join the temple. They asked the abbot how they should practice, and he replied, "Whatever you are skilled at, practice that."

The craftsmen, known for their great strength, decided to pursue enlightenment through martial arts. Despite their blindness, they trained under the temple's Overseeing Monks. They tied large stones to iron chains and attached them to their wrists, lifting them daily. This also conveniently prepared the stones needed for the temple's construction. The abbot was pleased and appointed them as Supporter Monks, saving a considerable amount of labor costs.

Blade Monk

戒刀僧

A foolish monk hears wise voice divine,

Beheading seen as practice, so refined.

Crooked paths lead to twisted ways,

The blade awakens, yet the mind still strays.

The yakshas who sought refuge in the New West were mostly unwilling to sever their old grudges and thus lived as lay disciples in the temple. Some yakshas, however, aspired to attain enlightenment and shaved their heads to become inner disciples. They had promised their master to behead a thousand heads to prove their resolve. Yellowbrow was pleased and bestowed upon them monk blades, calling them "Blade Monks," and allowed them to practice in the Pagoda Realm. If they truly managed to behead a thousand, they could become arhats in the main hall.

Initially, the Blade Monks thought this task would be easy, as the Pagoda Realm was filled with newcomers to the practice. However, as the path to enlightenment grew more challenging, the remaining inhabitants of the Pagoda Realm were all formidable: the agile and elusive Starved Abominations, whom they couldn't catch; the long-limbed Lantern Wardens, whom they dared not provoke; the temperamental Enslaved Yakshas, they fear their nasty vengeance; and even the weakest Yaksha Archers, who had become mad and terrifying after practicing the Closed-Eye Meditation.

Seeing that the Red-Haired Yaksha often sat quietly alone, appearing very docile, they decided to target him. Although the Red-Haired Yaksha believed all beings deserved to live, he harbored a deep hatred for those who beheaded others due to the war that destroyed his nation. Thus, he showed no mercy and beheaded the Blade Monks instead.

After this lesson, the Blade Monk became more subdued but remained resentful. They often hid in corners, ambushing passersby to add to their count of beheadings through such treacherous means.

Censor Holder

提炉僧

Incense stick breaks, the iron censor cold,

Frost cuts and wind slashes, monk's robe old.

Bitter the path of cultivation's quest,

Elusive bliss, soul's dreams oppressed.

Years ago, a merchant sought to cross the New West to conduct business. He should have taken the official road around the mountain, but due to limited budget and dwindling supplies, he decided to take a shortcut over the mountain.

Not long after entering the mountain, he lost his way. The path was blocked by snow, and the cold was biting. The merchant, both cold and frightened, was at a loss when he saw an ascetic monk, bare-chested and carrying an incense burner, passing by on a nearby slope. In a moment of desperation, the merchant hurriedly dragged his goods and followed the monk. The monk walked slowly, but the merchant, burdened by his goods, moved even slower and could never quite catch up.

In this manner, the two of them, one leading and one following, climbed to the mountain's peak, where a grand temple stood. Overjoyed, the merchant planned to rest there and hire some monks to help carry his goods over the mountain. As he approached the temple gate, he became wary. There were many monks standing like statues in the snow, completely motionless. 

The merchant was alarmed and frantically searched for the monk who had led him. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and saw several monks carrying incense burners walking among the frozen bodies. They surrounded the merchant, and just as he was about to plead for mercy, a cold mist rose from the incense burners, freezing him in place among the snow-covered corpses.

Circus Monkey

迎客僧

Through hoops they leap, and somersault,

With drums and tricks, their skills exalt.

The wicked stride with fearless ease,

While the kind are burdened, never at peace.

Years ago, after Mount Huaguo was destroyed, the Macaque Chief led his followers away, seeking a new place to practice. They trekked to Flaming Mountains, hoping to settle there. However, a plague soon broke out among the monkeys. The Macaque Chief ordered the sick monkeys to be thrown into a deep valley. This action instilled fear among the monkeys, causing them to abandon him and wander aimlessly.

They traveled along human cities, disguising themselves as monkey performers to earn a living. However, after each performance, the audience would disperse, leaving them with meager earnings and often hungry.

One day, a monkey had a sudden idea: why not use their performances to gather people and then rob them? So, they beat drums and gongs, performing energetically to attract a crowd. Once the spectators gathered, they killed them, stripped them of their clothes and valuables, and fled to the next city.

In this manner, they eventually reached the New West. Hearing that the Macaque Chief was also practicing there, they became monkey monks. Feeling guilty towards their kin, the Macaque Chief avoided them, which only fuelled their resentment. Knowing they were no match for the Macaque Chief, they took on the role of welcoming guests. By striking a gong, they could summon other patrolling guais. They waited every day for the chance to see the Macaque Chief, planning to summon the guais and give him a good beating when the time came!

Overseeing Monk

监院僧

With closed eyes, he practices through mere fist,

In silence, discerns the loyal from the twist.

Cutting thoughts, he seeks the pure domain,

Desires quelled, new bonds are slain.

In the temple, all monks could seek guidance from those more skilled. Among them, the monks who were passionate about fist martial arts always followed the second senior disciple, Non-Able, to practice and train. Their temperament was also similar to Non-Able's, as they were most inclined to fight for justice, earning them the title of "Overseeing Monks."

Since the Non-Able was punished by the master and sent to the Towers of Karma to reflect on his mistakes, the Overseeing Monks lost their protector. As a result, they often suffered greatly when standing up for others.

Troubled, the Overseeing Monks went to ask the master the solution. The master smiled and said, "If you do not see, your mind will be free from obstacles. The greatest affliction of men is weakness. Close your eyes and focus on your own cultivation."

Initially, the Overseeing Monks covered their eyes with cloth, but when they removed the cloth, they still couldn't ignore what they saw and heard. Then, Yellowbrow suggested, "Why not try gouging out your eyes?"

From then on, the temple had a new skill named "Blind Zen". Practitioners of this art nurtured their minds to be as serene as still waters, by turning a blind eye to the distractions of the world. 

But can they trult attain stillness? Perhaps any slight sound would only further agitate their restless hearts.

Dual-Blade Monk

双刀僧

In red attire, with twin blades he dances,

His pristine edges gleam, spirit enhances.

Within each blade, a hidden art,

Midlife brings wisdom, a balanced heart.

In days past, a monk wielding twin swords sought out New Thunderclap Temple, hoping to learn more advanced sword techniques.

His swords were plain in appearance. Upon joining the New West, he saw the dazzling and peculiar weapons of the yakshas and was filled with envy. From his childhood, he had once admired a pair of ornate swords, but his master had scolded him for his vanity: "A sword is the essence of martial arts. Beauty without substance is not the true path."

The monk had taken these words to heart, but now, seeing that others did not adhere to this principle, he began to waver.

He approached the yakshas, inquiring about the aesthetics of swords. The yakshas were puzzled and replied, "The more beautiful the sword, the more I want to practice with it. How could that be a hindrance?"

Still uncertain, the monk sought advice from his senior brother, Non-Pure, who was skilled with a monk's spade. Non-Pure replied, "Since you have already mastered your sword techniques, why cling to the past?"

Taking this to heart, the monk abandoned his old swords and, inspired by the yakshas' ornate designs, forged himself a pair of new, elaborate swords, hoping to fulfill his childhood dream. However, despite their striking appearance, the new swords were not the familiar, plain ones he had used for years. The techniques he had honed over time now revealed more flaws with the new swords.

Alas, spring gives birth, summer nurtures, autumn harvests, and winter stores. All things have their seasons. Gaining something out of season, even if obtained, is still a loss. Understanding the right moment is indeed difficult!

Cyan Bat

青蝠

Iron-forked spear in hand,

Clothed in simple garb, humble did he stand.

Deep woods, a world of white,

A perfect hunting land in sight.

In the past, there was a butcher named Wang in Changuang Village. Orphaned at a young age, his mother couldn't support him, so she sent him to apprentice with a butcher at the foot of the mountain, where he honed his skills.

One day, a wealthy family in town was celebrating a birthday and invited Wang to slaughter pigs and sheep. Pleased with his work, the host rewarded him with a leg of pork. Wang decided to bring the pork leg back to his mother and set off for the village that night. Halfway there, he saw a man by the roadside, holding a hunting spear and wearing an old cloth shirt. The man called out, "Brother, I'm a hunter from the village, trapping rabbits down this slope. I'm afraid of ghosts at night; may I walk with you?"

Wang nodded in agreement, and they continued on their way. After a while, the hunter started a conversation, "Brother, have you heard? There have been reports of yaoguais on this mountain path recently." Wang laughed, "What's there to fear about yaoguais? I have a butcher's knife at my waist and a pork leg on my shoulder. If I encounter a yaoguai, I'll swing the pork leg at it and chop it with my knife." The hunter forced a smile.

After walking a bit further, the hunter said, "Brother, you must be very skilled if you're not afraid of yaoguais." Wang laughed again, "I've been slaughtering animals since I was a child. One strike can hit the vital spot, and one chop can break bones and tendons." The hunter, annoyed, said, "How can you compare yaoguais to animals?" Wang replied seriously, "There are no yaoguais in this world. Those who uphold justice are heroes; those who bully the innocent are simply foul beasts." The hunter, unsure how to respond, walked on in silence.

As the village came into view, the hunter hesitated and said, "Since you're not afraid, why not turn around and look at me?" Wang had already suspected the hunter was a yaoguai. He swung the pork leg, knocking the hunter to the ground, and raised his knife to strike. The yaoguai, losing its composure, quickly spread its wings and flew into the air, spitting, "Today I met a tough one, bad luck, bad luck!" With that, it fled immediately.

Ah, they say the soft persimmons are easier to squeeze, hence it's better to be strong. Stand firm, and even yaoguais will fear you a bit.

Frozen Corspe

雪僵尸

Wisdom's lamp lights seasons' span,

Time flows like water through our hands.

Snow and wind obscure the way,

Achievements drift like bubbles, grand.

The temple rules state: New monks entering the temple may receive a new kasaya.