The Journey West

The desert was like an oven by day and an ice cellar by night.

Goten carried Zixia on his back, walking step by step across the boundless Gobi Desert.

His footprints left deep marks in the sand—not because he was heavy, but because he placed each step carefully.

He wanted to make sure Zixia wouldn't feel a jolt.

Zhi Zun Bao walked beside him, a wooden staff slung over his shoulder—not as a weapon, but to test the path ahead.

In his other hand, he held a piece of hardtack. He took a bite and frowned.

"This stuff's harder than a rock."

"That's military rations," Zhu Bajie panted from behind him. "Back when I was Marshal Tianpeng, the Heavenly Soldiers ate this. It could keep for a hundred years without going bad."

"A hundred years? So the stuff we're eating now—"

"Right. It might've been made in your grandpa's day."

Zhi Zun Bao fell silent for three seconds, then tossed the hardtack away.

"I'd rather starve."

"Don't throw that away, chief!" Zhu Bajie hurried to pick it up, brushing off the dust. "We might not even have this to eat tomorrow!"

Sha Wujing brought up the rear, carrying the luggage for all three of them. He said nothing, his pace steady.

He was the quietest of the five. From the moment they set out until now, he'd said exactly three things. First, "Mm." Second, "Okay." Third, "There's water."

Listening to them bicker, Goten's lips curved into a faint smile.

Though Zixia was still unconscious.

Though the road ahead was unknown.

Though the Heavenly Court was still hunting them.

At least he wasn't alone.

"Hey, kid." Zhi Zun Bao came up beside Goten. "Are you tired? Want me to carry her for a while?"

Goten shook his head. "I'm fine. Saiyans have much more stamina than ordinary people."

"Saiyan..." Zhi Zun Bao rolled the word around in his mouth. "You're always saying that. What exactly is a Saiyan?"

Goten thought for a moment.

"In my world, Saiyans are a warrior race. We're born loving to fight. The more we fight, the stronger we get, and if we recover after nearly dying, our strength surges. Most of us have black hair and tails—though mine was cut off when I was born."

"The more you fight, the stronger you get?" Zhi Zun Bao raised an eyebrow. "So getting beaten up is a good thing?"

"It's not exactly a 'good thing'... but it can make you stronger." Goten smiled. "My dad's been beaten half to death countless times. Every time, he came back stronger."

"Your dad—Sun Wukong—who's beaten him?"

Goten's expression grew serious.

"Lots of people. Frieza, Cell, Buu... Every one of them was stronger than him, and every one of them wanted to kill him. But he never gave up."

Zhi Zun Bao fell silent for a moment.

"What about you? Are you like your dad?"

Goten thought it over, then answered earnestly, "I hope I can be like him—never give up, no matter what happens."

Zhi Zun Bao studied Goten's profile.

The boy was barely twelve or thirteen, yet he'd carried someone for two whole days without once complaining that he was tired or saying, "I can't go on."

He said it was because Saiyans had good stamina.

But Zhi Zun Bao knew better. It was heart.

"Hey, Goten."

"Yeah?"

"When we get to that Fangcun Mountain place and Zixia's cured, what are you planning to do?"

Goten didn't answer right away.

He looked toward the endless wasteland ahead and remained silent for a long while.

"Get stronger."

"And then?"

"Then..." Goten clenched his fist. "I'll go back to my own world."

Zhi Zun Bao was taken aback.

He'd known that answer all along.

But hearing it from Goten still stirred something hard to describe inside him.

"Then... will you come back?"

Goten looked back at him and smiled.

"I will. Next time, I'll bring my dad with me."

"Your dad—Sun Wukong..." Zhi Zun Bao's mouth twitched. "The strongest warrior in the universe?"

"Yeah. I'll introduce you to him then." Goten's smile grew brighter. "You'll definitely like him. You two are a lot alike."

Zhi Zun Bao froze.

"Me and him... are a lot alike?"

Goten didn't answer.

He looked ahead and quickened his pace.

On the evening of the third day, they reached an abandoned temple.

The temple was in ruins. Half the roof had collapsed, and vines and moss covered the walls.

The sign above the gate hung crooked, its characters too blurred to read.

But the moment Goten stepped inside, he sensed something strange.

It wasn't demonic energy or celestial energy. It was—

"The aura of Buddhism." Zhu Bajie spoke up suddenly, his expression turning complicated. "This temple used to be a major Buddhist sanctuary."

Zhi Zun Bao asked curiously, "How do you know?"

Zhu Bajie fell silent for a moment, then said softly, "Back when I traveled west with Tang Seng to fetch the scriptures, I visited plenty of temples like this."

The air fell quiet for a moment.

Zhu Bajie—the greedy, lazy pig—had actually brought up a part of his past that he never spoke about.

Zhi Zun Bao didn't press him. He simply patted Zhu Bajie on the shoulder and walked into the temple.

The inside of the temple was much larger than it looked from outside.

In the main hall stood a ruined Buddha statue. Only its torso remained; its head was nowhere to be found.

The walls were covered in murals. Though faded and peeling, some of the scenes were still visible.

Goten gently laid Zixia on a relatively clean patch of floor and took off his jacket to cover her.

Her breathing had grown steadier, but her face was still pale.