Chapter 939
, Section 1, Taiping Road
Sun Wukong squatted on a large rock by the stream, idly using his golden cudgel to swirl the water.
Chu Yang took out ingredients and cooking utensils from his storage bag and set up a stove on a flat piece of land by the stream.
Today he planned to make a pot of hot noodle soup. After a long day of traveling, everyone was tired, and a bowl of hot noodle soup would dispel most of their fatigue.
He first washed the flour with stream water, kneaded it into a smooth dough, covered it with a damp cloth, and let it rest. Then he chopped some scallions, ginger, and garlic and sautéed them in a pan. He then sliced a piece of cured meat that he had bought in town that morning into thin slices and stir-fried it in the pan.
The cured pork sizzled in the hot oil, the fat was rendered out, and it emitted an enticing aroma of caramelization.
Then he added water to the pot, put in a few dried shiitake mushrooms and a small handful of goji berries, brought it to a boil over high heat, and then simmered it over low heat.
While the soup was simmering, he began to roll out the dough.
The dough is rolled into a thin sheet, then folded and cut into noodles of even width.
The knife work was clean and precise, and each noodle was distinct and perfectly separated, as if it had been measured with a ruler.
"Brother Chu Yang's skills are amazing, tsk tsk tsk." Pigsy poked half his head out of the water, drool almost dripping into the stream. "I, Old Pig, am getting hungry just watching."
Chu Yang smiled and said, "Almost done. Come up and dry yourself off first."
Once the broth was almost ready, he added the chopped noodles to the pot. The noodles bobbed up and down in the boiling broth, and after a few minutes they were cooked just right—chewy but not hard, smooth but not mushy.
He added another handful of chopped green leafy vegetables to the pot, scalded them for a few moments, and then turned off the heat.
Chu Yang served four large bowls of noodle soup, each topped with several slices of golden-brown fried cured meat, garnished with vibrant green leafy vegetables and a few bright red goji berries. The steaming noodles released a rich aroma that was especially tempting in the twilight.
Of course, the cured meat in the bowl given to Tang Sanzang was actually mixed with real cured meat. But nobody knew this.
"Master, please have some." Chu Yang placed the bowl in front of Tang Sanzang.
Tang Sanzang took the bowl, looked down at the bowl of soup noodles, and paused slightly.
"These noodles are so well made; each strand is like a silver thread."
Chu Yang said, "Cooking coarse grains with care, and pairing them with a soup base made from mountain mushrooms and medicinal herbs, is both nourishing and warming. Master has been traveling all day; a hot bowl of soup will help him sleep well tonight."
Tang Sanzang nodded, picked up the bowl, and ate in small bites.
"Delicious," he said after a few bites, a hint of surprise in his voice. "The broth is very flavorful, and the noodles are chewy. Every time I eat at Benefactor Chu's restaurant, I'm amazed by your cooking."
Chu Yang smiled modestly, "Master, you flatter me."
Pigsy had already started eating, his slurping louder than his snoring. He finished the bowl of noodles in less than three bites, then licked the rim of the bowl and stared longingly at the pot.
"Brother Chu Yang, is there any more?"
"Yes, there's still some in the pot. Help yourself."
Pigsy happily ran to get a second bowl, squatted by the stream, and ate it while sweating profusely.
Sun Wukong, on the other hand, ate in a refined manner, picking out noodles one by one and occasionally putting a piece of cured meat into his mouth and chewing it a couple of times.
"Brother Chu Yang, where did you buy this cured meat? It tastes great."
Chu Yang said, "I bought it the day before yesterday when I passed through that town. The cured meat from that shop was smoked using cypress wood and orange peel, so it has a unique, pleasant aroma."
Sun Wukong nodded: "It's definitely tastier than regular cured meat. If we pass through a town like that again, we'll buy a few more pieces."
"it is good."
The four of them sat around the stream, eating hot soup noodles, listening to the babbling water and the occasional croaking of frogs in the distance. The fatigue and unpleasantness of the day seemed to dissipate with the twilight.
After finishing the noodles, Chu Yang cleaned up the dishes and boiled a kettle of water to make tea.
He bought the tea in Qingfeng Town. The quality wasn't top-notch, but it was fragrant and refreshing, perfect for a cup after a meal.
Tang Sanzang sat on a rock by the stream, holding a teacup, watching the sunset gradually fade in the sky, his expression becoming much more peaceful.
“Benefactor Chu,” he suddenly said.
"Disciple is here." Chu Yang sat not far away, whittling a tree branch with a knife.
Tang Sanzang pondered for a moment, then said, "I have thought about today's matter for a long time."
Chu Yang put down the branch in his hand and looked at him intently.
Tang Sanzang said, "I grew up in Jinshan Temple. The first precept my master taught me was not to kill. For over twenty years, I haven't dared to kill a single animal, let alone step on an ant."
“But today…” He looked at his hands, a hint of bewilderment in his voice, “Today, seeing those human bones, I realized that the compassion I have always upheld may not be complete.”
Chu Yang did not interrupt him and listened quietly.
Tang Sanzang continued, "I used to think that as long as I didn't kill, I was being compassionate. But I never considered that sometimes, not killing could actually cause more deaths."
"If Wukong had listened to me today and driven those earth demons away, they would have continued to harm people elsewhere tomorrow. Although I didn't directly harm those who were harmed, my 'compassion' indirectly cost them their lives."
"This kind of compassion...cannot be considered true compassion."
His voice choked up as he said this.
"This humble monk has cultivated for over twenty years, and only today has he come to understand this principle. This humble monk is ashamed..."
Chu Yang said softly, "Master, there's no need to feel ashamed. Some truths are better seen with your own eyes than read about in books a hundred times. The fact that you've grasped this point today already puts you ahead of many who have cultivated for a lifetime."
Tang Sanzang gave a wry smile: "Benefactor Chu always knows how to comfort people."
Chu Yang said, "I'm not trying to comfort you, Master; I'm just telling the truth."
He paused, then said, “Master, I believe that true Buddhism shouldn't be rigid dogma. The Buddha taught for forty-nine years, speaking different words to different people and using different methods to enlighten different beings. What does this show? It shows that Buddhism is alive, not dead.”
"Precepts are meant to guide the path of spiritual practice, not to confine oneself. If a master is bound by precepts and dares not even do what he should do, then he is not keeping the precepts, but binding himself."
Tang Sanzang remained silent for a long time after hearing these words.
The stream flowed in the twilight, reflecting the last rays of the sunset, like a flowing ribbon.
A night breeze blew in from the distant valley, carrying a touch of coolness and sweeping away the daytime heat.
Fireflies flew out of the grass, flashing and drawing countless tiny trails of light along the stream.
“Benefactor Chu,” Tang Sanzang finally spoke, his voice much calmer than before.
"Disciple is here."
"You're right. This humble monk was indeed bound by the precepts in the past."
He put down his teacup, clasped his hands together, and gazed at the star that had just begun to light up on the horizon.
"This humble monk's journey to the West is not only for obtaining scriptures, but also for cultivating the mind. What happened today has made me realize a truth—spiritual practice is not just about chanting scriptures and meditating in temples, but also about experiencing the true meaning of life in the mundane world."
He turned to look at Sun Wukong.
At that moment, Sun Wukong was squatting on a rock, his hands supporting his chin, pretending to watch the fish in the stream, but his ears were perked up, clearly listening to the conversation. "Wukong," Tang Sanzang called out.
Sun Wukong's ears twitched, and he turned around casually.
"Hmm? Master called me?"
Tang Sanzang looked at him with a gentle yet earnest gaze.
"If you encounter something like this again, don't hesitate. Act decisively when the time is right, and I won't blame you anymore."
Sun Wukong's eyes widened slightly.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but felt that none of his words carried enough weight.
In the end, he simply nodded vigorously.
"I understand, Master."
His voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the sound of the stream.
But Chu Yang heard it.
He heard what those words contained—not gratitude, not pride, not relief.
It is a deep trust that is not easily expressed.
Pigsy appeared out of nowhere, blowing his nose with a look of deep emotion.
"Master, Monkey King, you've moved me so much! I'm almost in tears."
Sun Wukong kicked him into the stream.
"Get out of here! Who told you to come and join the fun?"
Pigsy splashed around in the water for a couple of seconds, then surfaced and shouted at Monkey King, "Brother Monkey, are you crazy?! I came here out of the goodness of my heart to help you create a lively atmosphere, and you kick me into the water?"
Sun Wukong laughed heartily: "You call that creating an atmosphere? I think you're just here to freeload!"
Pigsy angrily climbed out of the water, soaking wet, looking just like a pig that had just been pulled out of a muddy pond.
Tang Sanzang shook his head helplessly as he watched his two disciples bickering, but a smile involuntarily crept onto his lips.
Chu Yang sat on a rock by the stream, watching this scene, and a sense of peace welled up in his heart.
Night had completely fallen.
The sky was filled with countless stars, like spilled silver coins scattered across the entire firmament. The stream shimmered with a dark luster under the starlight, flowing calmly and endlessly, its origin and destination unknown.
An owl flew out from the depths of the woods, gliding silently across the night sky like a silent sentinel.
Chu Yang added a few more pieces of firewood to the fire, and the flames crackled, casting a warm, orange-red glow on everyone's faces.
“Let’s camp here tonight,” he said. “We’ll continue our journey early tomorrow morning.”
Tang Sanzang nodded, sat cross-legged by the fire, and closed his eyes to chant sutras.
The next morning, Chu Yang was awakened by birdsong.
It wasn't just one bird, but a flock. Judging from their voices, they sounded like sparrows, chirping and chattering as they crowded together on the branches of the old locust tree overhead, creating quite a commotion.
He opened his eyes and saw a thin layer of lotus root pink on the horizon. Morning mist rose from the stream, and milky white vapor drifted across the grass, enveloping the surrounding scenery in a hazy veil.
The fire had long since died out, leaving only a pile of grayish-white ashes and a few charred tree branches.
Pigsy was still lying on the "bed" made of dry leaves, snoring away. The leaves beneath him were scattered by his shoveling. He was curled up in a ball, his mouth half-open, and drool dripping from his chin.
Sun Wukong had climbed down from the tree at some point and was squatting by the stream washing his face. He buried his face in the water, shook his head violently, splashing water droplets everywhere, and his golden fur was covered with glistening water droplets.
Tang Sanzang had already risen and was sitting on a blue stone by the stream, facing east, with his hands clasped together, silently reciting his morning prayers. His cassock gleamed faintly in the morning mist, making him look like a serene stone Buddha.
Chu Yang stretched his stiff neck, stood up, walked to the stream, scooped up a handful of cold water, and splashed it on his face.
The cool touch invigorated him.
He looked up at the sky and, estimating that it was still early, rummaged through the ingredients in his storage bag, intending to make a simple breakfast.
I cooked a pot of millet porridge, and then stir-fried it with half a piece of cured pork left over from yesterday, chopped into small pieces. I also broke open the few remaining steamed buns in the storage bag and toasted them over the fire until the outer skin was golden brown and crispy, while the inside was still steaming.
"Dinner's ready."
As if under some kind of spell, Pigsy sat up abruptly as soon as the words "Dinner is served" were uttered. His eyes were not even fully open before his nose began to sniff.
"Cured pork? I smell cured pork."
Chu Yang handed him a bowl of fried rice with eggs.
Pigsy took it, ate it clean in a few bites, licked the rim of the bowl, and then went to get another bowl.
After breakfast, the group packed their belongings and continued their journey westward.
The road was much easier to travel today than yesterday. Trees reappeared on both sides of the official road, starting with a few scattered poplars, then gradually becoming denser, and finally forming a dense forest that blocked out the sky.
The woods were very shady. The sunlight was filtered through layers of branches and leaves, leaving only dappled spots of light on the ground, which flickered as the leaves swayed.
The air was filled with the scent of pine resin and decaying wood, and occasionally a faint floral fragrance could be detected—wild orchids, growing in the cracks of the roadside stones, their pale purple petals so small that they were almost invisible unless you looked closely.
"This place is good." Sun Wukong led the way, looking around. "Many trees and few demons; it's a peaceful road."
Pigsy said, "It would be best if the journey were this peaceful, so I, Old Pig, wouldn't have to worry."
Sun Wukong scoffed, "When have you ever cared? You're always hiding in the back during fights."
Pigsy protested, "I was protecting Master! Master is weak and helpless; someone has to guard him."
"You're going to guard him? You'd be better off guarding the rice cooker."
"Brother Monkey, why do you speak so rudely—"
The two started arguing again.
Tang Sanzang, still on his horse, shook his head with a helpless smile, ignoring them.
Chu Yang walked behind, keeping an eye on the surrounding terrain as he hurried along.
The mountains in this area grew increasingly higher, and the official road wound its way through the valley between two large mountains like a gray-white ribbon. In the distance, the mountain peaks were shrouded in a thin layer of mist, and some man-made stone steps could be vaguely seen at the mountainside, leading step by step to the summit.
At the end of the stone steps, half-hidden in the clouds, there appears to be a building.
Chu Yang's eyes narrowed slightly. (End of Chapter)