Erlang Shen’s inner conflict is also Wukong’s. What he truly struggles to understand is:
“After all the wrongs I’ve done, can I still turn back?”
At first, I thought Erlang Shen and Wukong had conspired to put on a show, but later I realized that wasn’t the case. They never collaborated. Just look at this expression:
It’s almost certain that the ending animations of each chapter depict the memories of those who wield the Six Roots artifacts. The correlations—Black Bear Spirit with Yellow Brows and the respective final bosses—are straightforward. In Chapter Two, the one holding the Root of Hearing is Yellow Wind, but it’s Lingji’s head that’s used to refine the artifact, so it’s Lingji’s memory. In Chapter Four, the final boss is Bai Mu, but the long-term holder of the Root of Taste is Zi Zhuer, so it’s her memory. Similarly, Chapter Five reflects Bull Demon King’s memory, not Red Boy’s.
This makes Chapter Six almost certainly Wukong’s memory. And in this memory, at the moment Erlang Shen kills Wukong—
He laughs!
Returning to the prologue, although both of them were hurling insults, Erlang Shen’s reluctance to strike was obvious.
Whether this part of the plot is true or not, it at least proves one thing: If the developers intended for you to notice Erlang Shen showing mercy, they would make it unmistakable. If there’s no clear clue, then it didn’t happen. (The same logic applies to Wukong mocking Bull Demon King in Chapter Five.)
Of course, Erlang Shen’s smug expression in Wukong’s memory might be exaggerated, as it’s normal for memories to become distorted near death. But it still proves one thing: at that point, they weren’t in cahoots.
When Did Erlang Shen Change?
By the time of the Shadow God painting scene, where heavenly soldiers raid the area, Erlang Shen has already changed. Thus, there’s only one possible moment for his transformation: the instant he obtained Wukong’s memory.
What did he see in that memory?
This brings us to the biggest difference between Wukong and Erlang Shen: Erlang Shen has always been a god.
He has been a god for so long that he’s forgotten what it feels like to be human. He’s used to watching the mortal world from above. Wukong, on the other hand, has truly walked through the mortal world—through its 108,000 miles—just like an ordinary being.
Hearing about cannibalism and witnessing it firsthand are two entirely different things.
Wukong said,
“If they have such wealth, why would they sacrifice their own children? With fifty taels of silver, they could buy a boy. With one hundred taels, they could buy a girl. At most, it’s two hundred taels. They could keep their own children and descendants safe. Isn’t that better?”
—Chapter 47, Journey to the West
Notice anything odd? Wukong not only deduced the idea of substitute sacrifices but also knew the market rate for them.
Wukong also said,
“You don’t understand my abilities. With these eyes, I can see good and evil a thousand miles away in broad daylight. Within that range, even a dragonfly flapping its wings is visible to me. How could I not see a horse?”
—Chapter 15
The Prefect of Baojia said,
“This mountain was formerly called the Mountain of Five Elements. During the Tang Dynasty’s Western Expedition, it was renamed the Mountain of Two Realms. I once heard an elder say, ‘During Wang Mang’s usurpation of the Han Dynasty, this mountain descended from the heavens and trapped a divine monkey beneath it. He neither fears cold nor heat, nor needs food or drink. The Earth God watches over him, and he survives by eating iron pills when hungry and drinking molten metal when thirsty. From ancient times until now, he hasn’t starved or frozen to death.’”
—Chapter 14
During the time Wukong was trapped under the mountain, he witnessed the decline of the Han Dynasty, the chaos of the Three Kingdoms, the devastation of the Five Barbarians, and the brilliance of the Southern and Northern Dynasties.
He said,
“The Buddha tricked me and trapped me under this mountain for over 500 years. I couldn’t break free. Please have mercy and save me!”
The Bodhisattva replied,
“Your sins are immense. If I save you, you might cause trouble again, and that wouldn’t be good.”
Wukong said,
“I’ve already repented. Please show compassion and guide me on the path to salvation.”
—Chapter 8
The Buddha made him watch. If Wukong’s rebellion in Heaven had succeeded, the world under unworthy rulers would have turned into a nightmare.
Returning to Black Myth: Wukong
Yellow Brows’ Shadow God painting depicts the parallels between him and Jin Chan (Tang Sanzang). Yellow Brows believes that indulging human desires is justified, while Jin Chan argues that suffering the consequences of one’s actions is only fair. Both viewpoints stem from a divine perspective, passing moral judgments on mortals.
This detached view is flawed. Take, for example, cannibalism and the Jian’an style of poetry. Children being eaten is tragic, but so is the plight of their desperate parents. Scholars struggling under the rigid class system also suffered. Criticizing the oppressed while ignoring the true perpetrators reveals a shallow understanding. Jin Chan, at that point, hadn’t truly grasped what it meant to practice compassion.
As for Wukong, he didn’t just hear about such tragedies—he watched them unfold over 500 years. Now, Erlang Shen has seen it too and felt the helplessness of watching it happen without the power to intervene.
That he didn’t lose his sanity immediately is a testament to his resilience. What he saw was far more horrifying than the Ren Zong bag.
And he killed Wukong.
Some mistakes can’t be dismissed with “I didn’t know.” To occupy a position of power and remain ignorant is itself a crime.
In the world of Journey to the West, even acts of coercion are framed as acts of grace when performed by the “righteous” side. Consider Erlang Shen’s method:
“The elder monkeys said, ‘There are about a thousand of us left.’ Wukong replied, ‘I once commanded 47,000 demons. Where have the rest gone?’
The elder monkeys answered, ‘After you left, this mountain was set ablaze by Erlang Shen. Most of us were burned alive. We hid in wells, streams, and under iron bridges to survive. When the fire subsided, we emerged, but there was no more fruit to sustain us. Half of us left, and the remaining half endured hardship here. In recent years, hunters have captured many of us.’”
—Chapter 28
Erlang Shen likely believed he was doing this for Wukong’s own good. To him, Wukong’s defiance made him “deserving of death.”
Erlang Shen’s Refuge in the Painting
Erlang Shen can no longer return to his life as a god, yet he knows he can’t fix the suffering he has seen. He retreats into the mural to avoid facing reality.
The task he assigns to his six brothers is a subtle way of dissolving their fellowship.
Whether they succeed or fail is irrelevant to him. Thus, their subsequent choices—whether to go into hiding, indulge in drunkenness, or seek redemption—are their own. Erlang Shen simply provides them an excuse to leave.
His brothers understand this and realize there’s no turning back, so they all spiral into self-destruction to varying degrees.
As for Erlang Shen himself… he believes he deserves death, yet cannot bring himself to commit suicide. Moreover, having killed Wukong, he feels unworthy of death until he redeems himself.
He waits for the “destined one” to kill him.
At the end of their battle, when he smiles after being struck, it’s as if he’s saying, “I knew you wouldn’t forgive me.”
If not for Wukong’s intervention (through his memory), the destined one would have killed him.
In the end, Wukong forgives him.
This is why Erlang Shen’s inner conflict is resolved.
Erlang Shen likely won’t join the destined one in rebellion. By handing over his three-pronged spear, he’s saying, “This is all I can do for you. The rest is up to you.”
He can live on, but he’s no longer fit to lead.
As for Wukong…
Wukong has it worse.
No one can forgive him.
No one has the right to forgive him.
