On this quiet night, the sound of falling rain drowned out nearly everything.
Rainwater dripped from the eaves like strings of beaded curtains, splashing into the puddles below and sending up a chilly mist.
Beneath the eaves, Tripitaka huddled in his soaked robes, his eyes filled with confusion as he looked around. Beside him, Monkey crouched quietly, leaning on his Golden Staff.
"Perhaps, I should never have dragged you all into this. I should have... walked the Westward Quest alone."
Monkey's face twitched slightly when he heard these words.
From Flower-Fruit Mountain to now, how many years has it been? And now he talks about how he should've set out alone?
Just for saying that—if it weren't Tripitaka, Monkey might have already struck him. And not held back, either.
It took all his effort to suppress his anger. Monkey reached up to scratch his ear, baring his teeth, and replied in a deliberately casual tone, "It's fine. People get confused sometimes. When I've been hit too hard, I can't figure things out either, and I say the wrong things. But... some things, until you've thought them through, it's best not to say them lightly."
As he spoke, Monkey glanced toward where Marshal Silver and the others were, signaling with his eyes. He said, "It's fine if I hear it, but if the others overhear... it could be trouble. If that happens, the group's unity will fall apart, and how would we go on?"
"No." Tripitaka shook his head and whispered, "I've thought it through."
"What have you figured out?" Monkey snorted, looking at Tripitaka in disbelief. He reached out and touched Tripitaka's wet shoulder, gritting his teeth: "Wearing only these rags, soaked through, in this wretched weather, and in a place like this, are you telling me you want to give up?"
Before he finished speaking, Monkey grabbed Tripitaka's collar and yanked him forward, glaring and lowering his voice to a harsh growl: "I'm counting on you to help me topple the Tathāgata! You're going to the West whether you want to or not! If you dare repeat what you just said, I'll kill you!"
Tripitaka's eyes widened in shock.
The others in the distance stared in bewilderment.
Prince Adrian, the Little White Dragon, cautiously nudged Marshal Silver's arm and whispered, "What... what just happened? What did they say? It looked like they were about to fight."
Everyone around furrowed their brows, staring blankly. No one replied.
Just as Tripitaka was about to finish speaking, Monkey casually cast a silencing spell. At this distance, with no warning, even lip-reading was impossible—and Monkey had prepared for this.
After a while, Monkey finally let go, turning to watch the water splashing before him. "I'll pretend I didn't hear what you just said. Anyway... remember what you promised me under Five Elements Mountain: I keep you safe all the way, you succeed in attaining enlightenment and help me topple the Tathāgata. If you succeed, anything is negotiable. Otherwise... I'm no saint."
Tripitaka blinked, staring blankly at Monkey's profile.
After a while, Tripitaka shrank back into his corner, closed his eyes, and curled up. He sighed softly, "Great Sage, you've misunderstood. That's not what I meant."