Chapter 421: It Must Have Been Him

After a series of setbacks, Sun Wukong and Xuanzang, the master–disciple pair, together with the newly added member—the Western Sea Jade Dragon Third Crown Prince who has transformed into a white Dragon Horse—finally got back on the proper track of the westward journey for scriptures.

However, Dharma Master Xuanzang has recently picked up a habit.

Whenever they pause to rest, collect alms, or before night lodging, if he has any spare time, he takes out a slightly aged volume from his Travel Pack, reads it by daylight or firelight in silence, sometimes frowning in thought, sometimes shaking his head slightly, and sometimes seeming to have an insight.

The scene makes the curious Sun Wukong itch and scratch his ears, and he can't help but edge closer, leaning forward to ask:

"Master, this treasure‑like book—where did you get it? Is it really that good? Old Sun has watched you flip through it so much, the pages are almost worn out!"

Hearing this, Xuanzang lifts his head from the pages, looks at Sun Wukong, his gaze much calmer, even tinged with a hint of apology.

He closes the book, gently strokes the cover, and explains: "This book is titled 'Lunyu', a gift from a wandering Daoist elder. It was… that day, when I was momentarily confused and drove you away, I was grieving alone by the creek, and that Daoist passed by and presented it to me."

He pauses, his tone more sincere, "Wukong, I indeed spoke too harshly before and was thoughtless. You protected me earnestly, yet I… from now on I will certainly not treat you that way again."

Sun Wukong blinks his fiery eyes, then lifts his hand to touch the bright Golden Headband on his head, his face full of disbelief: "Then… Master, now that you know you were wrong, why still put this damned headband on old Sun? Reciting the Tight-Headband Spell hurts like crazy!"

Hearing this, Xuanzang's face shows a rare hint of embarrassment; he sighs and admits, "I'm not afraid of you mocking me. Wukong, your powers are vast, able to pierce heaven and earth, while I… am merely a mortal monk with ordinary eyes."

"Not afraid? Of course I'm a bit scared inside,"

"This Golden Headband… rather than binding you, it's for me to find comfort, to bolster my courage."

"I… sigh."

He shakes his head and says no more.

Sun Wukong listens, scratches his face, thinking that's understandable.

If he were an ordinary person, seeing himself like this and having slain six bandits, he would have been terrified to death; being able to, like this monk, merely chant a few sutras and drive himself away already counts as sheer audacity.

Thinking that way, his irritation eases a bit.

Nevertheless, understanding aside, his dissatisfaction with the Golden Headband remains concrete, so he merely says "Oh" without any comforting words like "Master, I understand you" or "I don't blame you".

His attention quickly returns to the Lunyu in Xuanzang's hand.

When Xuanzang closed the book earlier, his sharp eyes caught a line; now he mimics Xuanzang's usual reading tone, shaking his head and reciting: "Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire; I won't keep for others what I don't want myself?"

"Ha ha! Interesting, interesting! This interpretation is quite novel, very refreshing!"

The more he reads, the more his appetite for the book grows; itching with impatience, he reaches toward Xuanzang, grinning:

"Master, if you've finished or are nearly done, could you lend it to old Sun for a look? I promise I won't damage or lose it!"

Seeing his enthusiasm, Xuanzang doesn't refuse, even handing the book over, but cautions, "There's no objection."

"But Wukong, this book… its insights are rather sharp, even a bit… hmm, overly murderous in aura."

"Read it and stop, don't try to master it all; remember the Buddhist Sect ultimately upholds compassion."

"Got it, got it! Master, don't worry! Even Buddha has fire, you know!" Sun Wukong answers eagerly, happily taking the Lunyu.

He immediately squats to the side, devouring the pages with relish, occasionally exclaiming "Tsk", "Marvelous", "So that's it" in admiration.

【9】 Neither master nor disciple notice, but above the high clouds, the hidden Guanyin Bodhisattva slightly frowns, watching below.

The master and disciple both failed to notice; above the high-altitude cloud layer, the Guanyin Bodhisattva who had concealed her form was slightly furrowing her brows, gazing downwards.

"Huh? This book… who gave it to the Tripitaka?" she observes with discerning eyes, seeing a faint mysterious glow enveloping the book, shielding it from scrutiny, unlike anything ordinary.

She instantly activates her divine powers, snapping her fingers to calculate the donor's background.

However, the heavenly mechanism remains vague, like a stone tossed into a deep pond—only a few ripples appear, yet the bottom remains unseen.

If even this Bodhisattva cannot deduce it, either the other's strength far surpasses hers, or the origin is so entangled that it obscures the heavenly signs.

She pauses briefly, and subconsciously a face with a lazy smile surfaces in her mind—Yu Lin.

"Hmm, if we talk about someone who likes 'giving things' and also has the ability to turn the heavenly mechanism into Chaos…"

"It must have been him!"

"Enough," Guanyin Bodhisattva gently shakes her head, no longer probing:

"Since he gave it, I suppose… there is no serious problem? Perhaps there is another purpose."

She decides to note this, and later keep a closer watch on the Tripitaka master–disciple's words and deeds, and pay attention to Yu Lin's actions.

With a flicker, she vanishes into deeper mist, disappearing.

And the Yu Lin she guessed at is already far from here.

He stands in another realm—outside the borders of Chechi Kingdom.

The terrain of Chechi Kingdom differs greatly from elsewhere.

The air is dry, the wind carries sand and grit, feeling coarse against the face.

Looking out, fields are barren, crops sparse and withered, canals show many dry spots, clearly a long drought.

On the official road to the capital, pedestrians are few, most with a pallid hue, hurrying, occasionally looking up at the sky, their eyes full of anxiety and helplessness.

Clearly they worry about water.

Contrasting sharply with the local hardship, however, are the ubiquitous Daoist traces.

The nearer to the capital, the more one feels an almost fanatical "veneration of Dao, suppression of Buddha" atmosphere.

At the city gate, the expected Buddhist temple or monk's posting area has long vanished, replaced by a newly built Daoist temple gate tower.

Yellow notices plastered on the city walls mostly request rain or sunshine, and every signature bears the seal of the Grand National Master.

In the market, Daoists clad in various Daoist robes stride about, heads held high, bearing a hint of arrogance.

They are often surrounded by officials or wealthy households, crowding them front and back, looking very imposing.

Occasionally one sees monks bound with ropes, ragged in clothing, driven like livestock to perform hard labor, or being escorted through the streets, while the surrounding townsfolk point and gossip.

Yu Lin, dressed in a Daoist robe, is often greeted with bows.

Just after stepping a short distance outside the city gate, a voice with a hint of flirtation comes from nearby:

"Daoist elder, your face looks very…"

"Your attire… doesn't seem like a native practitioner. Where are you from? What brings you to our Chechi Kingdom?"