Zhu Bajie received everyone's praise and chimed in, "Master, since they don't want money and even want to pay us instead, we disciples have had a hard time begging for food along the way. Why not just agree to it?"
"What sort of talk is that? Those who have left the secular world do not speak of money. Everything comes through alms. It would be one thing if they did not charge me, but if they insist on giving me money, then I cannot undergo this... this surgery." Tang Seng shook his head.
Tang Seng really did have hemorrhoids. After all, nine out of ten men suffered from them.
And monks in ancient times endured the elements and slept in the open, making it difficult to bathe regularly.
Hemorrhoids were often closely related to poor hygiene.
Otherwise, why did people say that rinsing with warm water could prevent hemorrhoids?
Moreover, Tang Seng sat cross-legged every day. Once he began meditating and chanting scriptures, he would sit for several hours.
And once he began expounding the scriptures, he would speak for several hours as well.
It would have been strange if Tang Seng did not get hemorrhoids.
His physical constitution was not particularly strong.
During the Journey to the West, Tang Seng had fallen ill more than once or twice.
He neither practiced martial arts nor cultivated immortality, and Guanyin Bodhisattva was even less likely to concern herself with such private matters.
The Six Dings and Six Jias, Dharma Protector Sangharama, and the like could not possibly protect him in this regard either.
That so-called Buddhist Robe could only bless him against serious illnesses. Minor ailments like colds would still come when they were supposed to.
In any case, he would eventually abandon this shell of a body.
So no one