This Monk Wasn't Right! Worship at Every Temple You Encounter? Even the Buddha Patriarch Came Down? The Lost Souls Have Arrived

They had traveled on for over half a month.

During those half-odd months, Jinchi had not done anything else to Sun Wukong.

He had not recited the Tightening Curse, flown into a rage over trivial matters, or assigned Sun Wukong those tedious chores.

He sat atop White Dragon Horse, traveling when it was time to travel and resting when it was time to rest. Everything seemed perfectly normal, like an ordinary scripture-seeking monk walking an ordinary scripture-seeking road.

But Sun Wukong knew something was wrong.

That monk from before would start preaching before they had even traveled half a day.

If he saw ants moving house by the roadside, he would preach compassion. If Sun Wukong chopped firewood crookedly, he would preach recklessness. If the sun set, he would preach about time slipping away. He practically wanted to chant Buddha Nature into every stone on the road!

Yet Jinchi sat on horseback, looking at the road ahead. His back was perfectly straight, his head slightly lowered, his gaze fixed a few steps before the horse's neck. He rarely looked to either side.

He could barely say a few words in an entire day. Even when he occasionally spoke, it was mostly, "Mm," "Fine," or "Let's go," as though he were conserving his strength!

He had never looked back at Sun Wukong.

Not once.

Before, that monk would turn back every so often to check whether Monkey was still there, as if afraid that he would run away the moment he was not watching.

But this monk never looked back.

It was as if he knew someone was following behind him, yet also as if he did not care who that person was.

Sun Wukong followed behind at an unhurried pace.

His gaze would occasionally fall upon the white figure ahead,