The Journey to the West was fraught with danger.
After traveling for dozens of days, Tang Sanzang and his four disciples finally crossed the towering mountains and reached a human kingdom. They entered its capital and arrived before Baolin Temple in Wuji Kingdom.
"Why does this temple look so run-down?"
Tang Sanzang gazed at Baolin Temple, his eyes filled with confusion.
Ever since entering the capital, he had sensed that something was amiss. Although most of the common folk still ate vegetarian food and prayed to Buddha, the royal court had little regard for Buddhism. He had seen monks being cursed at, yet they dared not speak up.
"Master, you're only noticing now?"
"I've already looked into it, Old Sun has. Five years ago, a drought broke out in Wuji Kingdom. The king prayed to the Buddhist faith and even sacrificed many young boys and girls, but nothing worked. Then, not long afterward, a Daoist came here and set up an altar. He summoned the wind and rain, and finally ended the drought."
"That Daoist was called Quanzhen. The king of Wuji Kingdom honored him as Imperial Advisor. But three years ago, Quanzhen Daoist disappeared. The king of Wuji Kingdom has since governed with diligence, and for the past three years the weather has been favorable and the people have lived very happily."
Sun Wukong scratched his ears and cheeks as he bounced around and spoke.
At this,
the five of them paid the matter little mind. They went straight to Baolin Temple, knocked on the door, and, when no one answered, pushed it open and entered.
"Amitabha Buddha! This poor monk has come from Great Tang in the Eastern Land. I am the tenth reincarnation of Golden Cicada, and my name is Tang Sanzang. I beg the abbot to