Chu Yang leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine bowl in his hand as the liquor glimmered amber beneath the lamplight. "Master, you're worried that we'll lose our true selves? Then let me ask you this instead: why can't we enjoy ourselves? A human life lasts barely a hundred years. Why are we seeking scriptures? To seek the true scriptures, to seek liberation. But liberation doesn't mean starving like ascetics every day or freezing our bodies, does it? If Buddha truly cared so much about such trifles, why hadn't he kept his own mount in line? The Golden Winged Great Peng is Tathagata's maternal uncle, and those three demon kings ate people on Lion Camel Ridge until nations were destroyed and families ruined, yet the Buddhist sect turned a blind eye. Now we've come to a town for a bath, and you're panicking as if the sky is falling? Master, does your Buddhist doctrine only govern us and not those lofty Bodhisattvas?"
Tang Monk's face turned from red to white, then green. He lowered his head to look at the wine and dishes on the table. Steam still rose from them, and their fragrance drilled straight into his nostrils. He swallowed, his voice much softer. "Benefactor Chu... what you say... it is not as though this poor monk does not understand it at all... it's just... the precepts are before me..."
Seeing him waver, Chu Yang simply pushed the wine bowl before Tang Monk. "Master, have a sip. This wine won't get you drunk; it only warms the body. That night on Lion Camel Ridge, you were trembling in that cave from fright, while Brother Monkey and I risked our lives to protect you. Now that we're safe, you still won't let us have a little fun? Buddhism speaks