The five members of the Preaching Squad swaggered slowly westward, striding as though they recognized neither kith nor kin.
The titles floating above their heads glittered in the sunlight, looking especially conspicuous.
Sun Wukong carried the Golden-Hooped Staff over his shoulder. The title [A filial son is born beneath the rod] bobbed with his steps, radiating a chilling sense of "fatherly kindness and filial devotion."
Zhu Bajie swung his rake, with [Girl-in-arms kill] floating overhead. Though he had no girl in his arms, his sleazy yet confident expression made people afraid to look him in the eye.
Sha Wujin wore an icy expression, with [True feelings only come from stepping on feet] overhead. With every step, the paving stones beneath his feet let out a mournful cry.
Tang Sanzang murmured "Boundless Heavenly Venerate," with [Serious punch] floating above him, his solemnity tinged with a violently incongruous aesthetic.
Little White Dragon, however, had it worst.
The two absurdly long titles [Big Slap] and [Believe it or not, one slap from me will plaster you to the wall so firmly you can't even be scraped off] hung above his forehead like banners, fluttering in the wind to comical effect.
Had these titles not been visible only to one another, their Dao hearts would have collapsed long ago.
"Three Burials, the Blackwater River is just ahead."
Sun Wukong's Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils flashed as he pointed at the broad river ahead.
"This place looks ordinary... but something feels off to me."
Tang Sanzang stopped, his brow creasing slightly.
"Something is off."
"I sense an aura... an exceptionally pure one."
"A little too pure."
They walked along the riverbank.
To their surprise, a dense crowd of commoners had gathered beside the Blackwater River.
Far from the panic of people fleeing disaster, they all