Chapter 439: Come With Me to a Place

While the heavens' gods and Buddhas were bustling about the two indistinguishable real‑and‑fake monkeys that caused endless trouble, down on the Human World it was a dead‑silent deep night.

In a wind‑sheltered mountain hollow, the campfire crackled, its dancing flames illuminating Xuanzang's silent face.

Bajie had gone to the vegetarian retreat and had not yet returned, probably still gorging or lost in some mountain ravine, while Sha Seng was also in the Heavenly Court.

The White Dragon Horse quietly nibbled grass beside them.

At this moment, only Xuanzang kept watch over the campfire and the scattered luggage on the ground.

He did not fall asleep, merely sitting cross‑legged, his gaze drifting absent‑mindedly onto the flames as if seeking, in their shifting light, an answer to his tangled thoughts.

Until a voice, half teasing and familiar, suddenly sounded beside his ear:

"Yo ho, Dharma Master Xuanzang, is that you? What a fate that brings us together across a thousand miles, yet without fate we would never meet face to face!"

The voice jolted Xuanzang's drifting thoughts back to reality.

Instinctively he turned his head and saw a young Daoist emerging from the nearby thicket, shaking off leaves and spiky grass seeds from his clothes while grinning and walking toward the fire.

It was the mysterious Daoist elder who had earlier by the stream gifted him the script "Lunyu"!

The young Daoist made himself at home, plopping onto the stone opposite Xuanzang, picking up a branch to stir the fire and make the flames burn brighter, then looking up with a smile: "Why am I still alone today? Where are your disciples?"

"Especially the senior disciple—wasn't he coaxed back last time? Why is he sulking again, driven away by you?"

Upon hearing this, Xuanzang's face flushed with deep shame; he pressed his palms together and whispered:

"Amitabha... I am ashamed, truly ashamed. I fear I have again brought ridicule from the Daoist elder."

He paused, seeming to collect his words, then slowly began: "Since the day the Daoist elder gave me the treasured script 'Lunyu', after returning I have often, during rests, studied it carefully, and its principles..."

"Although they differ greatly from what I have previously learned, even some are... shocking to the world, yet upon reflection they seem sound, especially when confronting the perils of this westward journey, they give a sudden clarity of mind."

"I consider my heart now steadier than before, and I have come to understand Wukong's actions more."

At this point, Xuanzang's tone grew heavy: "However... the previous day on the road we encountered a band of path‑cutting strongmen."

"Wukong... he still brandished his staff without hesitation. At that moment, though I knew those strongmen were wicked and deserved death, and recalled the Daoist elder's treatise on 'monstrous strength and chaotic spirits', I could not explain why thoughts of 'compassion' and 'fearing to crush ants while sweeping the floor' surged within me."

"I... I couldn't help rebuking him, saying his murderous nature was too heavy, violating Buddhist Sect precepts, and—impulsively—driving him away again..."

Xuanzang's voice lowered further: "In hindsight I am filled with regret."

"Though I have a new understanding in my heart, why does the moment arrive that I revert to old ways, acting contrary? With such fickle nature, how can I bear the great task of the westward quest for scriptures and universal salvation?"

He lifted his head, eyes full of self‑doubt, and looked at the young Daoist: "Daoist elder... is this because my cultivation is still shallow and my heart far from perfect?"

"Such inconsistency betrays the Buddha's teachings and lets down Wukong's sincere protective heart... I... I even feel that this westward quest may not be within my capability."

Having said that, he let out a long sigh; the firelight revealed a face that, though once handsome, now wore exhaustion.

The young Daoist listened quietly, his irreverent smile unchanged.

He tossed aside the branch, brushed ash from his hand, and laughed: "Dharma Master, why do you burden yourself so? Why are you always the first to self‑reflect and take all blame onto yourself?"

He gazed at Xuanzang's puzzled eyes, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice:

"If, as you say, your words and deeds now differ as if you were two people, and you yourself clearly sense this 'off' shift... then, Dharma Master, have you considered another possibility?"

"Huh?" Xuanzang opened his mouth slightly, a little confused.

The young Daoist did not explain immediately, but instead turned the conversation:

"Dharma Master, may I ask: since you set out on this westward path, how many demons and monsters have you encountered? Of those, how many have a celestial or Buddha background, sent on a mission or acting on their own to 'test' you?"

Xuanzang's brows furrowed subconsciously as he recalled: "Well... if I were to say... the Yellow Wind Monster of Yellow Wind Ridge, the Yellow Robe Monster of Bowl Mountain's Wave Moon Cave... counting them, they are not few."

The more he spoke, the tighter his brows knit, and a thin crack opened in the lingering vague doubt, a uneasy thought surfacing:

"Daoist elder is saying... my journey for scriptures..."

"Shh—" The young Daoist suddenly placed a hand over his mouth, stopping the words about to slip out.

The Daoist's smile remained; he nodded: "Dharma Master, you're not slow, you see through it in an instant."

He withdrew his hand, patted Xuanzang's shoulder, and his tone lightened again:

"How about it, Dharma Master? Instead of sitting here worrying, why not come with me? Let's see some... things that might help you understand your current situation better?"

Xuanzang's doubts remained, yet the gratitude for the gifted book and the hinted truth in his words sparked strong curiosity and a desire to break the stalemate.

He glanced at the silent camp, recalling Sha Seng was in the Heavenly Court, Bajie wandering unknown, and the real‑and‑fake Wukong issue could entangle them for who knows how long...

He nodded, deciding to set aside his turmoil: "I will."

Only unsure where the elder intends to take me, and whether my disciples might return by tomorrow morning...

"Don't worry, we'll go and return quickly, it won't delay your great mission of seeking scriptures." The young Daoist stood, patting his robe:

"As for where... you will know once you go."

His words hung in the air.

The two vanished in an instant.

Only the White Dragon Horse remained, head down, grazing.

Unknown, unknowing, unfamiliar, unclear.

It is merely a horse that is eating grass.