Chapter 950
Lodging
Increase the cultivation effect by half a year - three pieces is equivalent to a year and a half.
He had been cultivating the Taiyi Qi Nourishing Technique for almost two months, and although his progress was steady, it wasn't particularly fast. With these three Qi Condensation Pills, his cultivation speed could at least double.
“This is good.” He carefully put the box away.
Sun Wukong picked up the piece of black iron ore again, examined it, flicked it with his fingernail, and listened to the sound.
"It is indeed black iron. However, its quality is only average, classified as mid-grade. True high-grade black iron should be pure black in color, without these grayish-white impurities."
“Mid-grade is enough,” Chu Yang said. “When I have the chance to find a good blacksmith in the future, I can use this black iron to temper my short sword, which should improve its quality considerably.”
Sun Wukong threw the black iron ore back to him.
"You're quite the schemer. You fought the monster, rescued the people, and looted everything – nothing was wasted."
Chu Yang smiled and said, "Children from poor families mature early."
As the two were talking, heavy footsteps and Pigsy's booming voice came from the passage.
"Brother Monkey—Brother Chu Yang—are you inside—?"
Pigsy appeared at the entrance of the hall, carrying a rake. Tang Sanzang followed behind him; the wounds on Tang Sanzang's face had been treated, and he seemed to have recovered considerably.
Tang Sanzang entered the main hall and saw the mess on the floor and the Yellow Wind King lying on the ground. He sighed.
"Amitabha."
Sun Wukong grabbed the Yellow Wind King by the tail and dragged him to the center of the hall.
"Master, I, Old Sun, didn't kill this demon. The Bodhisattva said it's a weasel spirit from the foot of Mount Ling, who stole Buddha's things and escaped. How to deal with it is up to the Bodhisattva or the people of Mount Ling to take it away."
Tang Sanzang looked at the unconscious Yellow Wind King and remained silent for a moment.
"It's good that you won't kill me. It's good that you won't kill me." He put his hands together and recited a mantra for rebirth.
Chu Yang took out the brocade cassock from his storage bag and presented it to Tang Sanzang with both hands.
"Master, your cassock."
Tang Sanzang took the cassock and carefully examined it. After confirming that it was not damaged, he breathed a long sigh of relief.
"Thank you, Master Chu."
Chu Yang said, "Master, never take this robe off your body again. This robe is a treasure bestowed upon you by the Bodhisattva; it has protective properties. Wearing it is more effective than any armor."
Tang Sanzang nodded and put the cassock back on.
Chu Yang then took out the pair of copper hammers and handed them to Zhu Bajie.
"Bajie, this is for you."
Pigsy put down his rake, took the copper hammer, and weighed it in his hand.
"Wow, it's quite heavy!" He struck the two bronze hammers together, producing a clear metallic clang. "Bronze? No, there are patterns on it—"
“It’s runes,” Chu Yang said. “These bronze hammers are engraved with power-enhancing runes; when the user holds them, their strength will be amplified. I’m not sure exactly how much, but you can try it.”
Pigsy gripped the copper hammer and smashed it against a collapsed stone table beside him.
boom!
The stone table shattered into dust.
Pigsy paused for a moment, looked down at the copper hammer in his hand, then at the pile of stone dust on the ground, and a bright smile spread across his face.
"Good heavens! I, Old Pig, was already quite strong, and with these copper hammers, I've become at least 30% stronger! Brother Chu Yang, are you really giving me these?"
"Here you go."
Pigsy tucked the copper hammer into his waistband and grinned so wide his teeth were almost invisible.
"Hehehehehe... I, Old Pig, am rich! I'm rich!"
Sun Wukong, standing to the side, said sourly, "I, Old Sun, fought the Yellow Wind King for over thirty rounds and got nothing. You, you idiot, went out and brought back a pair of copper hammers. This world..."
Chu Yang laughed, "Brother Monkey has the Golden Cudgel, the king of weapons in the world, why would he bother with such a trivial thing?"
Sun Wukong snorted, saying nothing, but his tail twitched up.
He was clearly pleased by the title "King of Weapons".
Tang Sanzang watched the interaction between the three, a gentle smile appearing on his lips.
"The three of you..."
He shook his head and didn't continue.
After the group finished packing, they walked out of Huangfeng Cave along the passage.
The sky outside the cave was already beginning to lighten. The first rays of dawn peeked out from the eastern horizon, like a slender golden thread, prying open a corner of the thick darkness of night.
The mountain wind blew down from the ridge, icy cold, but after a night of stifling fighting and running around, this coolness actually felt refreshing.
Chu Yang stood on the platform at the cave entrance and glanced back at Huangfeng Cave.
The cave entrance had collapsed most of the way—probably caused by the impact of the battle between Sun Wukong and the Yellow Wind King—huge rocks blocked most of the entrance, leaving only a narrow gap that could barely allow one person to pass through.
Soon, the people of Lingshan will come to take away King Yellow Wind. At that time, this cave will be completely abandoned, becoming just another abandoned and dilapidated cave on Yellow Wind Ridge.
The four men and one horse slowly walked down the mountain along the stone ridge.
As the morning light gradually brightened, it revealed the clear textures of the desolate Huangfengling mountain—every gully, every protruding rock, and every piece of peeling loess was clearly visible.
The mountain, which appeared menacing and terrifying at night, shed its terrifying shell in the morning light, revealing its true nature—nothing more than a barren, desolate mountain.
At the foot of the mountain, the white dragon horse was still lying behind that sheltered rock.
Seeing Tang Sanzang walk over unharmed, the white dragon horse stood up, snorted, and stretched its head over to rub against Tang Sanzang's palm.
Tang Sanzang patted the white dragon horse's mane and mounted it.
"Let's go, let's continue on our way."
After leaving Huangfengling, we walked for six days straight, and the weather got hotter and hotter each day.
At first, it was just dryness; my lips cracked, my skin peeled, and my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Later, even the air tasted different; inhaling it burned my mouth, and exhaling it stung my face, as if someone had built an invisible furnace between heaven and earth, evaporating all the moisture.
The roadside vegetation is withering at a visible rate. The day before yesterday, there were still a few patches of half-green, half-yellow meadows; yesterday, only scorched yellow grass remained; and today, even the grass is gone, leaving only cracked yellow earth and sun-bleached pebbles. The river has also dried up.
They passed through three rivers marked on the map, each reduced to a dry, barren trough. The silt at the bottom of the river had cracked into chunks of mud, their edges warped, hard enough to be used as roof tiles.
Occasionally, a small puddle of murky water could be found in the lowest point of the riverbed, so shallow that it couldn't even reach a horse's hoof. A layer of green algae floated on the surface, emitting a putrid smell. The white dragon horse, extremely thirsty, approached to sniff it, then shook its head, preferring not to drink rather than touch it.
Chu Yang still had some water in his storage bag, but not much. He roughly calculated the remaining amount in his mind—enough for four people to drink sparingly for two days. If they still couldn't find a water source after two days, they would be in trouble.
Pigsy was the first to give in.
His obese body naturally dissipates heat more slowly than normal, and in this sweltering heat, he was practically wrapped in a blanket as he walked. Sweat poured from his pores, trickling down his face like streams, then dripping from his chin, leaving small wet puddle marks on the ground.
"I can't take it anymore..." He dragged his rake at the back, his tongue lolling out like a wilted salted fish. "I'm dying of heat... Is this sun trying to bake me alive... Give me some saliva... Please..."
Chu Yang handed him the water pouch.
"Drink sparingly, there's only this much left."
Pigsy took a swig, smacked his lips with lingering satisfaction, and tried to take a second swig, but Monkey King slapped him on the back of the head.
"Keep it! Master hasn't drunk it yet!"
Tang Sanzang, riding on the white dragon horse, didn't look too well either. His lips were cracked and bleeding, his eye sockets were slightly sunken, and the skin on his cheeks was red and hot from the sun. However, he didn't ask for water, but just silently chanted scriptures.
Chu Yang handed the water bag to him.
"Master, have a couple of sips."
Tang Sanzang hesitated for a moment, then took the cup, took only a very small sip, and handed it back.
"That's enough. You guys drink."
Sun Wukong, on the other hand, didn't seem to be affected. His physique far surpassed that of ordinary people, and this level of heat was merely a slight discomfort for him. However, his fiery eyes continued to scan the surrounding terrain, his brows furrowing more and more tightly.
“Something’s not right.” He jumped down from the top of a dead old locust tree by the roadside, landing beside Chu Yang. “This place isn’t naturally arid. Look at those dead trees; their roots are very deep. They must have lived for at least several decades, maybe even a hundred years. The fact that trees can grow this big means there used to be plenty of water here.”
Chu Yang also noticed this.
The dead trees along the roadside had thick trunks and extensive root systems; some roots even arched out of the ground, like grayish-brown pythons crawling on the ground. Root systems of this size could not survive without sufficient groundwater.
But now all those trees are dead. Their leaves have withered, their bark has cracked and peeled off, revealing the grayish-white woody fibers underneath. Some branches are so brittle that they break off with a gust of wind, smashing into a pile of powder on the ground.
"The drought only started in recent years," Chu Yang judged. "And it came very suddenly. Look at that locust tree—the growth rings on its trunk indicate it's at least eighty years old, but its leaves withered and died very quickly, not slowly."
Sun Wukong hummed in agreement: "What do you think is the reason?"
Chu Yang shook his head: "It's hard to say for now. We'll have to go to that city up ahead to find out."
On the horizon ahead, the outline of a city was already faintly visible.
The city wall was made of rammed earth and was not high, only about two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) high. The surface of the wall was whitened by the sun, like sections of weathered bone. The eaves of the city gate tower were crooked at one corner, and most of the glazed tiles on it were broken, revealing the gray rafters underneath.
There were no soldiers guarding the city gate.
The two heavy wooden doors were open, the iron on the hinges was rusty, and the wood was badly cracked, with some cracks wide enough to fit a finger.
The doorway was empty except for a skinny yellow dog lying in the shadows, its tongue lolling out. It didn't bark when it saw them approaching; it just rolled its eyes and then buried its head between its front legs.
After entering the city gate, Chu Yang's heart sank.
He didn't know the name of the city—the inscription on the plaque above the city gate had faded completely from the sun, leaving only a bare wooden board. But the city's condition was worse than he had imagined.
Nine out of ten shops on both sides of the main street were closed. The Spring Festival couplets pasted on the doors had faded to a pale pinkish-white, torn into strips by the wind, and fluttered weakly on the doorframes. Some shops had no doors at all, and the dark doorways were filled with broken furniture and rotten wood, covered with a thick layer of dust.
There weren't many people on the street.
Occasionally, a few ragged pedestrians could be seen walking along the base of the wall, each one pale and thin, with sunken eyes, and their steps unsteady as if they were walking on cotton. Some people squatted motionless in the shadows of the corner, whether resting or simply exhausted, it was hard to tell.
An old woman, so thin she was unrecognizable, sat by the roadside, holding a child in her arms. The child was about three or four years old, with a large head and a small body, limbs as thin as sticks, and a pair of lifeless eyes staring at the sky, with a layer of white, dry skin on his lips.
The old woman held a shriveled water bag in her hand and brought it to the child's mouth, squeezing for a long time before only managing to squeeze out a few drops of murky water.
Tang Sanzang's body visibly stiffened upon seeing this scene.
He reined in the white horse, dismounted, and strode quickly to the old woman.
"Benefactor, what's wrong with this child?"
The old woman looked up and saw the cassock on Tang Sanzang's body; a glimmer of light appeared in her cloudy eyes.
"Master...this child is my grandson...he hasn't had clean water for three days...the water I draw from the well is all muddy...the child got diarrhea after drinking it..."
Her voice was hoarse and dry, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.
Tang Sanzang turned around and glanced at Chu Yang.
Chu Yang took out a water pouch from his storage bag and handed it to Tang Sanzang.
Tang Sanzang handed the water bag to the old woman.
"Benefactor, here is some clean water. Please give it to the child to drink first."
The old woman trembled as she took the water pouch and brought the opening to the child's mouth. The child smelled the water, instinctively opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Tang Sanzang's eyes reddened as he watched the child drink water.
He stood up, looked at the desolate and dilapidated street, at the figures squatting motionless in the corner, and at the scorching sun overhead, and uttered a Buddhist chant.
"Amitabha……"
……
They found an inn that was still open in the city.
It was called an inn, but it was really just two empty rooms vacated by a family, with a wooden sign that read "Guest" hanging at the door. The innkeeper was a thin man in his forties with high cheekbones and a cracked lip. He didn't dare to open his mouth wide when he spoke, for fear that the crack at the corner of his mouth would become even deeper.
"Are you gentlemen just passing by?" he asked as he placed bowls on the table.
Tang Sanzang said, "This humble monk comes from the Great Tang Dynasty in the East, on his way to the Western Paradise to obtain Buddhist scriptures. Passing through this blessed land, I wish to ask for lodging for the night."
The shopkeeper gave a wry smile.
"What a treasure land! It used to be considered a treasure land, but these past two years, the heavens haven't sent rain, the fields have yielded nothing, and the wells are almost dry. The whole town is just barely surviving." (End of Chapter)