Spirit Mountain, Great Thunderclap Temple.
Under the sunlight, towering bodhi trees blocked out the sky, and the emerald lawns shone vividly, as if painted on a scroll.
Scattered here and there, monks recited scriptures or sipped tea while discussing the Dao.
In the distance, soaring pagoda towers loomed faintly, while birds glided across the sky.
Saint Samuel strode down the path with two disciples; every passing monk stopped and bowed silently in respect.
From afar, Saint Samuel saw Saint Manjusri, Saint Raymond, and Venerable Lingji seated cross-legged beneath the great tree.
Step by step, he walked over to them. Saint Samuel bowed and sat down, casually waving his hand to signal his two disciples to leave.
Saint Raymond, eyes closed in meditation, glanced up at Samuel and said, 'You're back?'
'I'm back,' Samuel replied.
'How did it go?'
Samuel gave a helpless smile and said, 'I couldn't even pass that girl's test—I was exposed right away. I underestimated her.'
Venerable Lingji said leisurely from the side, 'What you underestimated was Lord Lao and Master Sage Subhuti. Even if their disciples are doted on, they're not people you can fool so easily.'
Samuel shook out his sleeves, looked up, and said, 'Just a minor setback. I'll fight again next time.'
Manjusri shook his head teasingly, 'You never learn until you hit a wall. I admit defeat—this life, Golden Cicada's cultivation isn't complete yet, but his understanding of universal salvation is deeper than ten lifetimes ago.'
'Whether it's deep or not remains to be seen,' Samuel said, taking Manjusri's prayer beads with meaning. 'Everyone following him is still mired in the sea of suffering—who has he actually saved?'
Saint Raymond folded his hands and said calmly, 'Let us walk and see.'
...
In the sunlight, Monkey stood quietly on the hillside, gazing at the village ahead, his brow deeply furrowed.
'Detour?' Marshal Silver snorted, 'So even the Great Sage knows how to take a detour now?'
Monkey shot him a glare, then turned to Tripitaka on horseback. 'This village is suspicious—like a Buddhist illusion, but not quite. Maybe someone set a trap for us. There's no need to risk it.'
Tripitaka slowly shook his head, reined in the white horse, and let it circle in place. Gazing at the distant village, he said, "This journey is precisely about not fearing hardship."
"You have a point. But have you truly thought it through? If not for that fluctuation of spell power, I would have treated it as an ordinary village. If it’s fake, then either the Buddha himself is involved, or some powerful artifact is at work. And if the whole village is conjured by illusion, then there’s no one here to save anyway—what’s the point?"
"Then let's meet whoever cast the spell."
With that, Tripitaka pressed his legs against the horse’s sides and urged the white horse forward at a slow pace.
"Are we going in just as we are?" Barry Bear whispered, pointing at his own face.
Monkey waved his hand. "Just like this—too lazy to bother changing."
As he spoke, he conjured the Golden Staff into his hand and strode quickly to catch up.
At once, seeing a monk accompanied by a monkey and the huge black bear bounding down the hill, the entire village was thrown into chaos. Villagers dropped their work and fled toward their homes.
Tripitaka hurriedly reined in his horse, glanced back at Monkey, and called out loudly, "Good people, I am but a humble monk from the Eastern Lands, traveling west to fetch the scriptures. We are merely passing through—there’s no need to be alarmed!"
As he spoke, Monkey had already caught up, leaning on his Golden Staff and gazing at the panicked villagers with a lazy drawl: "They’re pretty convincing."
Tripitaka quietly asked, "Great Sage, how sure are you that they’re illusions?"
"About fifty percent."
At that, Tripitaka immediately dismounted, turned and instructed, "I’ll go speak with them. You all stay here—don’t scare them."
"What if something happens to you?"
"If something happens, it’s fate." Tripitaka took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and walked step by step toward the huddled villagers.
Meanwhile, Monkey was slowly gathering spiritual power, ready to strike at the slightest sign of trouble.
As Tripitaka drew closer to the villagers, the rest of the party instinctively prepared for battle, silently watching for any movement around them.
Step by step, Tripitaka closed the distance to within a single zhang. He pressed his palms together and asked, "May I ask, who is the village headman?"
The dozen or so villagers huddled together, staring at Tripitaka in terror.
After a long moment, a hand suddenly shot out from the crowd.
"I... I am," the old man stammered.
The villagers quickly parted to form a path, and a stooped, crutch-bearing elder slowly stepped forward.
The old man’s body trembled as he coughed dryly and spat, then looked at Tripitaka and asked in a quavering voice, "Are you human or demon?"
"I am human," Tripitaka replied.
"And what about them?" The old man pointed behind Tripitaka at Monkey and Barry Bear.
"They are demons," Tripitaka answered frankly.
At this answer, the villagers erupted again in panic, all shrinking back a step.
Tripitaka hurried to reassure them, "But they will never harm any of you."
"They’re demons. If you travel with demons, you must be one too—who would believe you?" someone shouted from the crowd.
At once, everyone nodded, their faces growing even more fearful.
Tripitaka forced a smile, "Good people, please don’t worry. We’re just passing through and ask only for a place to stay. We won’t harm anyone."
Yet no matter how he explained, every step he took forward, the villagers took a step back.
...
In a tiny room, Clara Heart clutched a palm-sized, softly glowing eight-trigram mirror, already grinning with delight.
She snickered, "Is that Tripitaka sick in the head? Why does Senior Brother bother protecting someone like that?"
Yvonne Rain leaned against the window, her eyes half-closed as she watched. "He probably just wants to reason sincerely with those villagers. Too bad they’re all your illusions—he’ll never persuade them."
As she spoke, she glanced to the other side, gazing at Monkey from afar. She sighed, "Uncle Wukong looks much more worn than before."
"Did you already know my senior brother before?" Clara asked.
"I did. I almost became his disciple," Yvonne replied, taking a deep breath and speaking with a touch of loneliness. "Back then, I was still on Kunlun Mountain, caught up in trouble because of my junior sister. When I first met him, both of us were only at the Spirit-Absorption Stage. If I’d apprenticed under him, I could have left Kunlun and kept my life, so I wanted him as my master. But he refused. Luckily, Master Skylar Loft appeared... It was only under Wukong’s instigation that Master accepted me as a disciple."
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