Guanyin mediated for quite a while longer.
Only then did master and disciple reconcile awkwardly.
Tang Sanzang hurriedly put his monk's cap back on, hiding the fillet beneath it. Only then did Guanyin secretly let out a breath of relief and leave with some mental exhaustion...
After Guanyin's figure had completely vanished, Sun Wukong first packed up the luggage. Then he stepped forward, took hold of the white horse's reins, chuckled, and said:
"Master, shall we get moving?"
After Tang Sanzang gave an "Mm," he climbed onto the horse himself without needing Sun Wukong's help. Once he was seated securely, Sun Wukong happily led the white horse onward.
They had not taken more than two steps...
When Tang Sanzang suddenly spoke:
"Wukong, you really won't recite the Tight-Fillet Spell on your master?"
Sun Wukong laughed.
"This Old Sun's word has always been as weighty as the Nine Cauldrons. If I said I won't recite it, then I won't. Master, stop worrying!"
Tang Sanzang fell silent for a moment before asking again:
"Really?"
Sun Wukong frowned slightly.
"Just rest easy. This Old Sun personally promised the Bodhisattva. If you don't believe me, do you not even believe the Bodhisattva?"
Tang Sanzang was still somewhat hesitant.
"But you don't seem afraid of the Bodhisattva..."
He was about to say more, but Sun Wukong was already getting impatient and directly threatened him:
"If Master keeps nagging like this, then I really will recite it!"
Tang Sanzang was instantly left speechless. His throat worked hard, as though he had swallowed all his pent-up words back down. For the rest of the journey, Tang Sanzang said nothing at all!
Sun Wukong was delighted by the peace and quiet, secretly thinking to himself:
At last, things should be quiet from now on, right?
Western Spirit Mountain.