The Monk Says You Are Beasts

"What did you say?"

Guangzhi had sharp ears and caught Tang Sanzang's murmur. The smile on his face vanished instantly. He leaped back a step and, with a swish, drew the broadsword at his waist with his right hand, pointing its blade at Tang Sanzang's nose. "Say that again!"

The weapon was a typical Ghost-Head Broadsword, broad-backed and heavy-bodied, its blade dotted with several nicks of varying depth. Its hilt was wrapped in coarse hemp rope for grip, the rope darkened almost black from years of soaking up sweat and blood.

Seeing Guangzhi draw his blade, the monks behind him raised their weapons as well. Blades and spears came free with a clatter. More than thirty men swiftly spread out, forming a loose encirclement in the courtyard.

Several bald heads had appeared atop the courtyard walls at some point, every one of them holding a bow or crossbow aimed at Tang Sanzang by the gate. The weapons were crudely made, but their arrowheads gleamed coldly in the dusk. They were clearly tools of murder, sharpened often.

"I'll say it again."

Tang Sanzang slowly turned around to face Guangzhi. They stood no more than three steps apart. Looking down at the scrawny monk, who only reached his chest, Tang Sanzang enunciated each word. "This monk says this is no Zen monastery. It is a bandits' den."

Guangzhi's face flushed red. His raised hand trembled slightly from the force of his grip. Gritting his teeth, he forced out the words through them. "Looks like you don't want to live. I'll ask you one more time. Did you come here to kill and burn, or to act like an idiot? There's no third possibility!"

The moment he finished speaking, Tang Sanzang's brows drew sharply together. He lowered his head, and his gaze fell