Profound Magical Power

"You strangled the tiger, and seemed to have exhausted your strength as well. Hugging the tiger's corpse, you muttered a few words, then... then fell asleep beside it. I... I waited until the sky had begun to lighten. Only when I saw that you were truly fast asleep did I dare draw a little closer, though I still did not dare disturb you."

After hearing Liu Boqin's account, Tang Sanzang stood frozen in place, like a clay statue.

He struggled to remember, bit by bit. Fragmented scenes began to surface.

Drunk as a lord, leading the white horse and carrying a heavy broadsword he had picked up from who knew where, with an inexplicable heat and violence burning in his chest and nowhere to vent it. Even the mountains looked offensive, and the woods hateful... Then he had swung that broadsword like a madman, cutting and killing his way all the way from the wilderness outside Hezhou Guard?

It seemed... he really had cut his way through three mountains? Whenever he encountered wild beasts on the way, he had conveniently "delivered" them? And in the end... he really had strangled a ferocious tiger with a python?

Pieced together, those fragments of memory were utterly absurd, yet incomparably real. Especially that exhilarating feeling of freely unleashing his strength while drunk, disregarding every rule—it still seemed to linger faintly in his blood.

After a long while, Tang Sanzang slowly exhaled a stale breath. The terror on his face gradually faded, replaced by an... indescribable expression that mixed bashfulness with a strange radiance.

He pressed his palms together and gave Liu Boqin a slight bow, speaking in a tone that tried to sound calm yet still carried traces of fierce vigor.

"Amitabha. So that was it. Do not be afraid, Benefactor Liu. Last