Ahead of them everything was thorn. Eight hundred li of it, they were told, and there was no trace of anyone having passed.
Wukong did not lead this time. Bajie stretched himself out and pushed the thorn to either side, and the road went exactly as far as he pushed.
They went on that way for days. Where the thorn ended there stood an old shrine, and the board above the gate read Wood Immortal Hermitage.