Haste Breeds Confusion; Reading Ten Thousand Books Is No Match for Traveling Ten Thousand Miles

When Taotie finished speaking, even the sounds of breathing instantly faded from the dim cave, already thick with musty dampness.

Only the patter of water dripping from the rock walls remained, sending faint echoes through the cavern's empty expanse as an uneasy silence suddenly descended.

Meanwhile, the scripture-seeking party heading toward the Western Heaven near the cave had crossed the rolling mountain ranges, and the dirt road beneath their feet gradually widened.

A warm breeze blew past, carrying an exotic floral fragrance. Tang Sanzang reined in the White Dragon Horse and looked ahead.

People walked along the roadside, dressed entirely differently from those in the countries they had passed through: men wrapped themselves in white cloth, while women wore fresh flowers at their temples. Buddhist pagodas lined the road one after another, their bodies painted with colorful patterns, and faint Buddhist chants drifted on the wind-they had reached India.

Sun Wukong put away the Ruyi Jingu Bang and looked around.

Zhu Bajie carried the Nine-Foot Rake on his shoulder and craned his neck to survey the market.

Roadside vendors displayed fresh fruit and spices. The locals sat on the ground and ate with their hands, without the chopsticks used in the Central Plains.

Buddhist temples crowded the streets and alleys, incense smoke curling into the air. Most passersby held their palms together and bowed whenever they saw a monk; reverence for the Buddha flourished here.

Tang Sanzang dismounted and pressed his palms together, a hundred emotions mingling in his heart.

After setting out from the Eastern Land and crossing a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers, he had finally stepped onto the ancient soil of the Buddhist homeland.

The air was warm, and the great roadside trees spread thick shade like canopies, with colorful birds occasionally flying past.

The shops