Chapter 954
Specialization is Key
His reason told him he should continue on his journey. The words "Kalanga Masters' Record" and "Sanskrit Texts" hooked at his scholarly nerves like two hooks.
"Then... we can't stay long. Just take one look and leave."
“Of course, of course,” Chu Yang immediately agreed. “Master, just go and read the scriptures; it won’t delay our journey.”
When Pigsy heard "there is a temple to stay in" from behind, his ears, which had been drooping for several days, suddenly perked up.
He didn't say anything—the more low-key he was at this time, the better, lest Tang Sanzang change his mind—but his steps were noticeably lighter.
……
Baolin Temple is located halfway up the low hill behind the town, and it is even smaller than Sun Wukong described.
It's not that Sun Wukong lied, but what he meant by "several courtyards" was actually two and a half—a front hall, a back hall, and a half-collapsed side courtyard. The big bell at the mountain gate wasn't very big, about the same size as the one in the City God Temple, but it was polished to a shine and reflected an orange-red light in the setting sun.
The abbot of the temple was a short, stout monk in his sixties, whose Dharma name was Huiyuan. He had a round face, arched eyebrows, and small eyes that narrowed into slits when he smiled. He exuded a cheerful and approachable aura.
He was genuinely happy to see Tang Sanzang.
However, his joy was not because of the "Record of the Lankavatara Masters"—this scripture did exist in the temple's library, but it was not a unique copy; it was a copy that the former abbot had copied from a large temple in a neighboring county—but because this remote little temple had not had any visitors from afar for a very long time.
"The Venerable Xuanzang has traveled a long way, which greatly honors our humble temple!" Huiyuan rubbed his hands together, his face crinkling with smiles. "Please come in, Venerable! Although our temple is rather simple, the meals are plentiful, the beds are ample, and as for the scriptures, you may read them for as long as you wish!"
Tang Sanzang was infected by his enthusiasm, and his tense expression finally relaxed a little.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Abbot. I am merely passing through and cannot stay any longer—"
"No rush, no rush!" Huiyuan grabbed his arm and led him into the temple. "It's almost dark. The Master can't possibly travel in the dark, can he? Stay at this small temple tonight, and leave tomorrow morning. Come, come, this humble monk will take the Master to the Sutra Repository. We'll look through it and chat—"
Tang Seng was pulled along for a couple of steps, then turned back to look at Chu Yang.
Chu Yang nodded slightly to him, his eyes conveying a sense of encouragement, "Go ahead, go ahead."
Tang Sanzang hesitated for a moment, but finally did not insist any further.
He followed Huiyuan deeper into the temple.
Chu Yang watched his figure disappear behind the pillars and let out a long sigh.
The first step was successful.
……
Although Abbot Huiyuan's temple was small and his family poor, his sincerity in treating guests was impeccable.
The vegetarian meal was prepared on four large tables—of course, three of them were prepared just for Pigsy.
Huiyuan initially set out only two tables, but Pigsy devoured them all in ten minutes. Huiyuan's eyes widened, and he ordered the young novice to add two more tables in the kitchen. Pigsy again devoured them all in ten minutes. Huiyuan's lips twitched twice, and he turned to look towards the kitchen. After estimating the temple's food reserves, he finally decided—there was enough to eat, and tonight, this Pigsy brother could eat as much as he wanted.
The vegetarian meal selection wasn't extensive, but it was prepared with care. The tofu was freshly ground that day, so tender you could almost squeeze water out of it. The mixed vegetarian dish used seven or eight kinds of seasonal vegetables, all cut to uniform sizes and beautifully arranged in colors. There was also a wild mushroom soup, made with fresh mushrooms picked from the mountains and dried bamboo shoots; the broth was clear and incredibly delicious.
Tang Sanzang ate a bowl of rice, a plate of tofu, and half a bowl of wild mushroom soup, then put down his chopsticks.
It's not that I can't eat, it's that my mind isn't on the food.
He was thinking about the scriptures in the library.
"Don't rush, Master. I'll take you there after you finish eating," Huiyuan said with a smile as he added soup to his bowl. "The Sutra Repository isn't going anywhere, Master, please take care of yourself first."
Tang Sanzang forced himself to drink two more sips of soup, then got up and followed Huiyuan.
Chu Yang stayed by the dining table, watching Zhu Bajie devour the last few steamed buns from the fourth table of vegetarian food.
Sun Wukong squatted on the corner of the table, holding a peach and munching on it—he had gotten it from who-knows-where—his eyes darting around, occasionally glancing at Chu Yang out of the corner of his eye.
"How is it? Has Master taken the bait?"
Chu Yang gave him a disgruntled look.
"What does it mean to take the bait? It means guiding your master to make the right choice."
"That's just taking the bait. It's just a nicer way of saying it."
Chu Yang was too lazy to argue with him about this.
"Brother Monkey, Master is reading scriptures in the Sutra Repository tonight. Knowing his temperament, he won't stop until his eyes are completely blurry. By the time he gets tired and goes back to sleep, it won't be past midnight at all."
"Um?"
Chu Yang lowered his voice.
"On my way up the mountain, I noticed the town at the foot of the mountain. It's quite a town, with wide streets, and—did you notice—several shops on the street at the town entrance still have their lights on."
Sun Wukong's ears perked up.
"you mean--"
“There’s a night market in town,” Chu Yang smiled slightly. “Master is reading scriptures, let’s go to the night market. Each of us can get what we need.”
Sun Wukong's eyes lit up.
With the last steamed bun stuffed in his mouth, Pigsy mumbled as he interjected, "Mmm...night market...mmm...do they sell food?"
"What night market doesn't sell food?"
Pigsy's eyes instantly shone with a light comparable to fiery eyes.
"Go! We must go!"
……
Tang Sanzang stayed in the Sutra Repository for three hours.
Abbot Huiyuan could only stay with him for an hour before he couldn't take it anymore—the old man was getting on in years, and after 7 PM he started yawning—he apologized to Tang Sanzang and went to rest, leaving a young novice to help Tang Sanzang light the lamp.
Tang Sanzang was completely unaware.
He sat on a futon in the library, with a copy of the Lankavatara Sutra spread out in front of him, turning the pages one by one. Although it was not an original copy, the scribe's handwriting was neat and vigorous, and the annotations were quite insightful, which Tang Sanzang found very interesting.
There were several Sanskrit scriptures stacked beside them—these weren't fakes; they were indeed originals that had been passed down from India, but due to their age, the pages were brittle and yellowed, and the ink in some places was blurred. The way Tang Sanzang held the Sanskrit scriptures was as if he were looking at a priceless treasure.
Chu Yang went to the Sutra Repository at the beginning of Hai hour (9-11 PM).
Tang Sanzang's eyelids were already drooping.
His hands, holding the scriptures, trembled slightly. His head would nod down occasionally, then snap back up. The young novice monk was asleep on the stool beside him, his head resting against the bookshelf, a trickle of drool at the corner of his mouth.
"Master," Chu Yang said softly.
Tang Sanzang raised his head, his gaze somewhat unfocused.
"Hmm? Chu Yang? What time is it?"
"It's the beginning of Hai hour. Master has been reading scriptures for three hours; it's time for him to rest."
Tang Sanzang subconsciously shook his head: "I haven't finished reading it yet... There are only a dozen or so pages left in this Sanskrit version of the Yogacara-bhumi-sastra..."
“Master, the scriptures will still be there tomorrow. You will also need to use your eyes tomorrow.”
Tang Sanzang opened his mouth to refute, but a yawn came out first.
He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, yawning until tears streamed down his face.
"Fine...we'll see tomorrow morning..." Chu Yang helped him back to the guest room.
Although the guest rooms at Baolin Temple were simple, they were very clean. A hard board bed was covered with a faded blue floral quilt, and the pillows were filled with buckwheat hulls, hard but breathable. The windows were paper-covered, and moonlight shone through, casting a hazy silver-gray layer on the floor.
Tang Sanzang sat on the edge of the bed, took off his shoes, folded his cassock and placed it beside his pillow, and lay down.
His eyes closed the moment his head touched the pillow.
In less than ten breaths, his breathing became long and even.
Fell asleep.
Chu Yang stood by the bed for a moment, making sure Tang Seng was sound asleep, before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie were already waiting in the corridor.
Sun Wukong leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth. Zhu Bajie stood beside him, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight, his entire being radiating an irrepressible anticipation.
"Asleep?" Sun Wukong asked.
"She's asleep. Sleeping soundly."
"Walk."
The three of them quietly descended the mountain along the path behind the temple.
The mountain path wasn't long, but walking it at night had a unique charm. The moon hung in the sky, large and round, like a silver plate nailed to the deep blue canvas. The moonlight illuminated the mountain path, making every crack and every patch of moss on the stone steps clearly visible.
The pine forests on both sides rustled in the night breeze, like hundreds of hands gently turning the pages of a book. Occasionally, a night bird would fly out from the depths of the canopy, fluttering overhead and leaving a trail of soft chirps.
The air was cool and refreshing, carrying a scent of pine resin and dew. The heat accumulated during the day dissipated considerably after nightfall, making it very pleasant to breathe in.
Chu Yang took a deep breath and felt the heavy feeling that had been pressing on his chest for days dissipate.
After descending the mountain, the town came into view.
This town is called Tongji Town. It's even more prosperous than Chu Yang had anticipated.
The town's main street is a north-south paved road paved with bluestone, lined with rows of two-story wooden buildings with upturned eaves and carved beams and painted rafters. They look quite old, but are well-maintained. Various signs and lanterns hang above the doorways, red, yellow, white, and green, illuminating the entire street with a kaleidoscope of colors.
Even though it was already past midnight, the streets were still bustling.
It's not the bustling crowds of the daytime, but a more relaxed and carefree atmosphere unique to the night.
Each stall had a display stand in front of it, with oil-paper umbrellas or cloth canopies above them, and several paper lanterns hanging inside. The dim yellow light spread out, enveloping each stall in a warm halo.
The vendors' shouts rose and fell, but unlike the urgent and sharp calls during the day, they carried a lazy, drawn-out tone, as if they were singing a slow-paced folk song.
"Roasted sweet potatoes—freshly baked sweet potatoes—"
"Sugar figurines—both blown and sculpted—"
"Mutton soup—add a steamed bun for free—"
The moment Pigsy stepped into the night market, he froze on the spot as if he had been frozen in place.
His pig nose twitched violently, his two nostrils flared to their maximum, desperately inhaling the aromas of various foods filling the air.
The caramelized sweet potato, the rich and savory mutton soup, the crispy and oily fried dough sticks, the delicate sweetness of osmanthus cake, the stinky tofu... well, let's not even mention it.
"Heavens...heaven..." his voice trembled, "Am I, Old Pig, dead? Is this heaven?"
Sun Wukong slapped him on the back of the head.
"Wake up. Have you never eaten at a restaurant or visited a night market in your life?"
"I...I've never seen anything like this when I was in Gao Lao Zhuang...that wretched place is so deserted at night, there's not a soul in sight..."
Chu Yang smiled and took out a small ingot of silver from his pocket.
This was what he plundered from the treasure vault of Huangfeng Cave. He had saved several hundred taels of gold and silver there, and now it came in handy.
"Let's go, no restrictions tonight, eat whatever you want."
Pigsy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Really...really?"
"Really. But there's one condition—don't disturb the people. Your face is too conspicuous; find a cloth to wrap it up."
Pigsy nodded repeatedly, took out a piece of gray cloth from his pocket, and quickly wrapped his face tightly, leaving only his eyes showing. Although he looked like a masked robber, it was at least much less impactful than a live pig's face.
Sun Wukong then took a monkey hair from his ear, blew on it, and transformed himself into an ordinary, thin old man, wearing a coarse cloth shirt and a straw hat.
"Is this okay?"
Chu Yang looked him up and down.
"Okay. It's just a bit too short."
"I, Old Sun, wasn't tall to begin with."
The three of them blended into the crowd at the night market.
The first stop was a wonton stall.
The stall owner was a plump middle-aged woman wearing a blue apron with white flowers. Her hands were white and plump, and she wrapped wontons at a dazzling speed. On the cutting board in front of her were rows of wrapped wontons, the wrappers as thin as paper, revealing the pink meat filling inside.
"How many bowls would you three like?"
“Three bowls.” Chu Yang said, then thought for a moment, glanced at Zhu Bajie, “and add six more bowls.”
The plump woman paused for a moment.
Nine bowls?
"Um."
Pigsy nodded vigorously beside him.
The wontons were served steaming hot. The broth in the bowl was made from pork bones, milky white in color, with a few sprigs of bright green cilantro and a pinch of dried shrimp floating on top. The wontons were quite large; one bite revealed a smooth wrapper and tender filling, with the meat juices flowing down the tip of the tongue.
Pigsy kept drinking bowl after bowl, only slowing down a little when he reached the fifth bowl.
“Delicious…a hundred times better than the vegetarian food in the temple…” His voice came out muffledly from behind the veil, filled with a deep sense of satisfaction.
Sun Wukong only drank half a bowl of soup, finding it too hot. He wasn't particularly picky about food; as long as it filled his stomach, he was fine. However, he did express his appreciation for the thinness of the wonton wrappers.
"These wrappers are wrapped very well. They're even thinner than the dumpling wrappers you make, Brother Chu Yang."
Chu Yang smiled and shook his head: "Everyone has their own expertise. They've been making wontons their whole lives, so of course their skills are better than mine."
After finishing their wontons, the three continued strolling along.
The stalls at the night market are incredibly diverse, offering far more than just food.
There were vendors selling miscellaneous goods—combs, bronze mirrors, hair ties, earrings, embroidered purses—a dazzling array spread across the table, shimmering in the lantern light.
There was a vendor selling calligraphy and paintings—a poor, pedantic scholar wearing a square cap had set up a small table covered with white Xuan paper, writing couplets and painting fan paintings on the spot for three copper coins each. His calligraphy wasn't particularly good, but he was quite skilled at painting, especially shrimp, which he could bring to life with just a few strokes. (End of Chapter)