As the master and disciple walked along, chatting away, the sun unconsciously began its descent. The scene displayed:

Flames flicker, sunsets sweep,

To corners of earth, clouds do creep.

Birds and quails in mountain's song,

Find their nests, woods they throng.

Beasts together, in pairs they retreat,

Nestling in dens, in groups they meet.

Crescent moon hooks through twilight's hue,

Stars twinkle, creating their own view.

"Master, we should keep moving," said Monkey Pilgrim, "it's getting late. Over there, the trees seem thick, and it must be a place with houses. We better find lodging soon."

Following his advice, Tripitaka spurred the horse, making their way straight to the village.

Upon reaching the front of a courtyard, Monkey Pilgrim left their luggage, approached, and called out, "Open up! Open up!"

An older man inside came out with a cane, and with a clatter, he opened the door. When Monkey Pilgrim came into view, he emanated a fierce energy with the tiger skin draping his waist, looking like a god of thunder. The sight left the old man weak in the knees, his body numb, and he babbled, "A ghost has come! A ghost has come!"

Tripitaka stepped forward to steady him. "Don't be afraid, kind sir. He is my disciple, not a ghost or monster."

The old man looked up and upon seeing Tripitaka's unique appearance, he finally regained his composure. He inquired, "Are you a monk from a temple? Why have you brought this wicked man to my doorstep?"

Tripitaka responded, "I am a monk from the Tang Dynasty, traveling to the West to pay respects to the Buddha and seek scriptures. As night approached, we were passing by this area. We humbly seek shelter and plan to continue our journey before dawn breaks. We sincerely hope for your kindness and assistance."

The old man remarked, "Though you might be a Tang person, the wicked one with you is not."

Sun Wukong firmly shouted, "You, old man, are completely mistaken! My master carries the tang of burned incense, and I also smell awesome. I am the Great Sage Equal to Heaven! People in this area also recognize me, and I've seen you before."

The old man asked, "Where have you seen me?"

"Did you not gather firewood before me when you were young? Did you not pick vegetables right next to me?"

The old man retorted, "This rascal is talking nonsense! When did I gather firewood or pick vegetables in front of you? Where did you live? Where did I live?"

Wukong responded, "No, my son, you are the one talking nonsense! You've totally forgotten me, but guess what? I'm the Great Sage stuck in the stone under these mountains. Take a quick second look, and maybe it'll click."

The old man finally realized and said, "You do look a bit like him. But how did you manage to get out?"

Wukong then recounted the Bodhisattva's advice for repentance and how he was waiting for Tang Sanzangto remove the parchment to free him, explaining everything in detail to the old man.

After the old man finished bowing, he ushered them inside. He called for his old wife and children to come and meet them and explained the whole story. Everyone was overjoyed. After the tea was made, they asked Monkey Pilgrim, "Great Sage, are you getting on in years?"

Monkey Pilgrim asked in return, "How old are you?"

The old man replied, "I'm a foolish 130 years old."

"Well, I have plenty of descendants and grand-descendants. You might be one of them." Monkey Pilgrim grinned. "As for my actual age, I can't recall exactly when I was born. But I've been around this mountain's base for over five hundred years."

The old man nodded and said, "That's right, that's right. I remember hearing my ancestors say that this mountain descended from the heavens and pressed down a divine monkey. And now, you've just shed that weight. When I saw you back then, you had grass on your head and mud on your face, and I wasn't scared of you. But now, your face is mud-free, your head is grass-free, so you seem a bit skinnier, plus you're wearing a huge tiger skin around your waist. How could I tell you apart from a demon?"

Upon hearing these words, the whole family burst into hearty laughter.

The old man was quite wise and immediately arranged for a vegetarian meal.

After eating, Monkey Pilgrim asked, "What's your last name, sir?"

The old man replied, "Our family name is Chen."

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang bowed and respectfully said, "Old benefactor, I follow the Huayan Buddhist[1] school."

Monkey Pilgrim interjected, "Master, your surname is Tang, but why are you saying you follow the Huayan?"

Tang Sanzang explained, "In my secular life, I'm also surnamed Chen. I come from Juxian Village in Haizhou, Hongnong Prefecture, during the Tang Dynasty. My Dharma name is Chen Xuanzang. It's just that Emperor Taizong of the Great Tang Dynasty bestowed upon me the title 'Imperial Disciple Tripiṭaka,' using 'Tang' as the surname, so I'm known as Tang Sanzang as well." Hearing that they shared the same surname, the old man was even more delighted.

"Old Chen, we've been causing you trouble in your home," said the Monkey King, "I haven't taken a bath for over five hundred years. Could you please heat some water for my master and me to bathe in? I'll deeply appreciate it before we depart."

The old man immediately ordered to heat up water and bring a basin, holding a lamp in his hand.

After the master and disciples had finished bathing, they sat by the lamp.

The Monkey King continued, "Old Chen, I hate to be a bother again, but you got any needles and thread I could borrow?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The old man replied, "Yes, yes, I do." He instructed his wife to fetch needles and thread, handing them to the Monkey King.

With his sharp eyes, the Monkey King discovered Sanzang's white robe. His master hadn't donned it after bathing. He grabbed it, draped it over himself, and pleated it with a piece of tiger skin. After putting it on, he walked in front of his master. "Master, how do I look in this outfit today compared to yesterday?"

"Good, good, good. This attire suits you, making you look like a true pilgrim." The Tang Priest then said, "Disciple, if you don't mind, you can wear that robe. It's old but functional."

Sun Wukong bowed. "Thank you, thank you." He then went to find some grass to feed the horses.

With everything settled for the moment, the master, disciple, and the old man all returned to their rest.

The next morning, Monkey Pilgrim got up and invited the master to the day. Tang Sanzang dressed and instructed Monkey to pack the bedding and luggage. Just as they were about to bid farewell, they saw the old man had already prepared warm water for washing and a vegetarian meal. After finishing the meal, they set off.

Tang Sanzang mounted his horse while Monkey led the way. They didn't realize how quickly time passed as they traveled, eating and drinking as they went, resting during the night, and resuming their journey at dawn.

It was early winter, and the scene around them was captivating:

Red leaves fell, thinning the woods by the thousands. Pine and cypress stood tall atop the mountain ridges. Though plum blossoms hadn't bloomed, their fragrance filled the air. The short, warm days showed a hint of early spring. Chrysanthemums faded, lotus blossoms withered, while mountain tea flourished. Ancient trees on the cold bridge vied to extend their branches. A meandering stream glistened with trickling water. Subtle clouds hinted at a snowfall covering the sky. The brisk north wind tugged at sleeves and clothing. How could anyone withstand the chill as evening fell?

As the master and disciples walked for a while, suddenly, they heard a shout by the road, and six men rushed out. Each held either long spears or short swords, their weapons sharp and bows drawn tight.

With a loud voice, one of them exclaimed, "Monk, where do you think you're going? Best leave your horses and drop your baggage now, and we might spare your lives."

Tang Sanzang was so frightened that he felt his spirit leave his body, and he fell off his horse, unable to speak.

Monkey helped him up, saying, "Master, don't worry, nothing's wrong. They're just offering us clothes and money."

"Disciple, you're not listening properly. They're telling us to leave our horses and baggage, and you're asking them for clothes and money."

Monkey grinned. "You keep an eye on the belongings while I'll negotiate the details. Let's see how it goes."

Tang Sanzang cautioned, "One skilled hand can't match two fists, and two fists can't match four hands. There are six of them, and you're just one person. Are you really going to fight them?"

Monkey's courage was never in short supply. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, crossed his arms over his chest, and greeted the six men, saying, "Gentlemen, what's the reason for stopping this humble monk's path?"

One of them replied, "We are the leaders of the shortcut, benevolent rulers of this mountain. Our reputation precedes us. You must have heard of us. Leave your belongings behind now, and we'll let you pass. But utter a single 'no,' and you'll end up as nothing more than shattered bones and dust."

Monkey retorted, "I too am a leader, a longtime mountain king. Yet I've never heard of your illustrious names."

The man explained, "You're uninformed. Allow me to enlighten you: One is called 'Joy through Sight,' another 'Fury through Hearing,' there's 'Love through Smell,' 'Reflection through Taste,' 'Desire through Mind,' and 'Worry through Body.'"

Monkey chuckled, "Ah, so you're six thieves. Funny how you fail to recognize that this monk here is your host, yet you dare to block our path. Hand over the stolen treasures, and I'll split them seven ways, sparing you some trouble."

Upon hearing this, those thieves expressed their respective emotions—joy, anger, love, thought, desire, and worry. They all rushed forward in a clamor. "This monk has no manners! He has nothing of his own, yet he comes here demanding a share of our things." They brandished their spears and swords, swarming towards Monkey and swinging them wildly, striking him with a barrage of thuds and clangs—about seventy to eighty blows in total.

Monkey stood still amidst the chaos, pretending not to notice.

One of the thieves said, "Impressive, monk. Your head is really tough."

Monkey laughed, "Well, I can tolerate it. But since you seem to be getting tired from all this fighting, I might as well take out a needle and have some fun."

The thief retorted, "This monk is a quack pretending to be an acupuncturist. We're not sick, so what's the point of poking us with needles?"

Monkey reached behind his ear and pulled out his needle-shaped treasure. With a flick in the wind, it transformed into a sturdy iron rod about the thickness of a bowl. He held it in his hand and said, "Don't go. Let me give you a taste of my staff."

Frightened, the six thieves scattered and fled.

But Monkey was quick on their heels. One by one, he caught up with them and struck them down. He stripped them of their clothes and took their ill-gotten gains. With a triumphant smile, he returned to his master, "Master, please proceed. Those thieves have been dealt with by me."

Tripitaka admonished, "You've caused quite a disaster. While they were indeed rogues, their punishment shouldn't have been death. You should have driven them away even if you have the skill. Why did you kill them all? You've needlessly taken lives. How can a monk act this way? A monk should gently sweep the floor to avoid harming ants and protect moths from the light. Why did you not consider the truth and just kill them all? This shows a complete lack of compassion and kindness. It's fortunate this happened in the wilderness; had it occurred in a city, if someone had bumped into you and you responded with violence, wielding your staff recklessly and injuring people, how could I, as a visiting guest, stand by? How would I escape the blame?"

Monkey said, "Master, if I hadn't taken them out, they might have killed you."

Tripitaka replied, "As a monk, I'd rather die than resort to violence. If I die, it's just one life. But if you kill those six men, how can you justify it? If this matter is reported to the authorities, even if your father were an official, he couldn't excuse it."

Monkey confessed, "I won't hide it from you, Master. When I ruled Flower-Fruit Mountain as the handsome Monkey King Five hundred years ago, I can't even remember how many I've killed. If the authorities found out about this, there's a chance they'd start pointing fingers and making accusations."

Tripitaka continued, "It's precisely because you acted recklessly and aggressively, harming people and deceiving both the heavens and the earth, that you faced difficulties five hundred years ago. While you've assumed the role of my disciple, the continuation of your aggressive actions and the infliction of harm shall obstruct your passage to the Western Heavens, and the essence of monkhood shall elude your grasp. It's too wrong, far too wrong!"

As it turned out, this monkey couldn’t stand being scolded. Because Tripitaka admonished him, he couldn't contain his anger and said, "Since you're like this, saying I can't become a monk and can't go to the Western Heaven, there's no need to keep nagging and irritating me. I'll just go back."

Tripitaka didn't respond.

In a fit of anger, the monkey somersaulted, shouting, "I'm leaving!"

Tripitaka quickly looked up, but Sun Wukong was already gone. All he heard was a whooshing sound as the monkey disappeared into the east. Left alone, the monk shook his head and sighed. Feeling sad and frustrated, he muttered, "This guy is so unteachable. I just said a few words to him, and he vanished without a trace. Well, well, well, I guess it's just not in my fate to have a disciple, to bring someone into the fold. Now I can't find him anywhere, and if I call him, he won't respond. He comes and goes as he pleases."

It's just as they say: Sacrifice yourself to reach the West; don't rely on others to assert your own will.

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[1] That dialog doesn’t make sense for Westerners. I guess the remark means that they have the same surname and are connected because of it. Huayan Buddhism: The Huayan Buddhist school is based on the Avatamsaka Sutra (Flower Garland Sutra), a profound scripture that presents a comprehensive and intricate understanding of reality, interconnectedness, and the nature of existence. The Huazong school emphasizes the concept of interpenetration, where all phenomena mutually influence and reflect one another.