After bidding farewell to old Chen's family, master, disciple, and tiger continued west.
Dawn was just breaking, and mist curled through the woods.
Xuanzang rode on the striped tiger's back, gently rising and falling with its strides.
Since being subdued, the tiger had proved quite obedient. Xuanzang had named it A-Hu.
Now A-Hu padded along with feline steps, steady and imposing.
Sun Wukong walked at the front, the Golden Cudgel slung over his shoulder.
The hem of his short white cloth shirt swayed in the breeze. He would not even walk properly, hopping on one foot now and then or poking at wildflowers beside the road with his staff, humming some nameless tune, as carefree as a bird with the boundless sky and sea before it.
Not a trace of last night's sorrow at parting remained.
After all, he had sprung from a crack in a rock. Where would he get all those tender, lingering attachments?
He had given them a hair last night, forging a bond. As far as he was concerned, that page had been turned.
"Master!"
Sun Wukong looked back with a cheeky grin. "A-Hu's too slow. At this pace, when will we ever reach the Western Heaven? Why not let Old Sun carry you? One Somersault Cloud, and we'll be there in a blink."
Xuanzang had been sitting upright on the tiger's back, resting with his eyes closed. At this, he opened them and said mildly:
"Wukong, everything we experience along the way is part of our cultivation. We are already moving fast enough."
Wukong smiled and said no more.
As they spoke, a shrill whistle suddenly rang out.
"Hey! Monk! Stop!"
The bushes on both sides of the road abruptly parted, and six bandits leaped out in quick succession.
Each held a spear or a great saber. Their faces were fierce as they blocked the road.
A-Hu growled and crouched, ready to spring. Xuanzang patted the tiger's head. "A-Hu, be calm."
The six bandits were startled at first to see the monk riding a tiger.
But when they saw that the monk held the tiger still, and that the monk himself was fair and delicate while his disciple was scrawny as a sickly wretch, their courage swelled again.
"Monk! Pay the toll, now!"
Their leader, a brute with a face full of bulging flesh and a demon-headed saber in his hand, pointed at Xuanzang and barked:
"Leave that horse... no, leave that tiger! And all the travel money in your bundles! Every last coin! Say so much as half a word of refusal, and we'll kill you without bothering to bury you!"
Sun Wukong laughed at that.
He tossed the luggage onto the ground, folded his arms, and tilted his head at the six bandits, grinning mischievously.
"Heh-heh, mighty kings, we're wandering monks. What travel money would we have? You, though-being kings of this mountain, you must have saved up plenty. Why not lend Old Sun a little to spend?"
The six bandits flew into a rage. "You monk who doesn't know death when he sees it! You dare make sport of your betters?"
With that, all six rushed him at once, hacking and thrusting at Sun Wukong with their blades, spears, swords, and halberds.
Sun Wukong stood without moving, letting the weapons strike his body with a crisp clang and clatter, sending sparks flying.
"This... this monk's head is hard!"
The shocks numbed the bandits' wrists, and they backed away in terror.
Sun Wukong took the Golden Cudgel from his ear and shook it in the breeze, turning it as thick as the mouth of a bowl.
"Finished? Old Sun's turn, then?"
He raised the staff, ferocity blazing in his eyes.
But just as the staff was about to fall, Sun Wukong's hand stopped.
He glanced back at Xuanzang.
His gaze was questioning.
"Master."
He asked, "These men are bandits. Who knows how many people they've harmed? And now they want to kill you. May Old Sun strike?"
Knowing they had met a formidable foe, the six bandits saw that this monkey demon actually obeyed the monk. Thinking they had found a straw to save them from drowning, they hurriedly cried out to Xuanzang:
"Mercy, holy monk! Mercy! We only want money, not lives!"
Seated on the tiger's back, Xuanzang spoke slowly, his voice calm and unruffled:
"Wukong, ask them their names."
Sun Wukong paused. Though he did not understand why, he turned and shouted, "You petty thieves! My master asks your names! Out with them!"
The leader trembled. "I... I'm Eye-Sees-Joy."
The other five shakily gave their names as well:
"Ear-Hears-Anger."
"Nose-Smells-Love."
"Tongue-Tastes-Thought."
"Mind-Perceives-Desire."
"Body-Is-Sorrow."
Hearing those six names, Xuanzang closed his eyes and pressed his palms together.
Eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind.
"Wukong."
Xuanzang opened his eyes, the usual mildness gone from his gaze.
"These six are not human."
Sun Wukong scratched his head.
"Not human? Demons, then?"
"Not demons."
"These are the 'Six Thieves.'"
"When the eye sees joy, greed arises; when the ear hears anger, hatred arises; when the nose smells love, infatuation arises..."
"Eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind. These are the six faculties, and also the Six Thieves."
"When the six faculties are impure, the Six Thieves arise. Day and night, they occupy the human heart, plundering the spiritual light of one's true nature, sinking one into the sea of desire with no escape from rebirth."
The six bandits felt lost in clouds and fog as they listened. They only thought the monk was spouting mystical nonsense, and grew more frightened still.
Sun Wukong, however, understood.
His eyes lit up, and the Golden Cudgel hummed in his hand.
"Master, you mean... I can strike?"
Xuanzang did not answer directly.
He merely turned away and softly said:
"Go."
"You got it!!!"
Sun Wukong was overjoyed!
He had been stifled all this way. At last, he could let loose!
Several dull thuds sounded, accompanied by a few screams.
In moments, the dust settled.
The six bandits had become corpses.
Sun Wukong put away his staff and walked behind Xuanzang, wiping his hands a little uneasily.
With his head lowered, Sun Wukong braced himself for a scolding. "Master, they're all dealt with. If you think Old Sun was too ruthless, go ahead and scold me. I'll listen."
Xuanzang turned around.
He dismounted from the tiger and walked up to Sun Wukong.
Reaching out, he gently brushed the dust from Sun Wukong's shoulder.
"Wukong."
Xuanzang looked into those Fiery Golden Eyes, filled with wildness yet touched with unease, and said warmly:
"You did well."
Sun Wukong jerked his head up, disbelief written across his face. "Master... you don't blame me?"
"Why would I?"
Xuanzang asked in return, his expression composed:
"Once, a bodhisattva asked the Buddha how to subdue the deluded mind and preserve right mindfulness."
"The Buddha said: 'I shall lead them all into nirvana without remainder and bring them to cessation.'"
Xuanzang raised a finger and pointed at the corpses on the ground, then at Sun Wukong's heart. His tone was solemn, every word carrying the weight of a thousand pounds:
"Wukong, what your staff severed today was not life, but the 'defilements of the six faculties' that disturb the spiritual terrace."
"Having vowed to journey west, you must subdue your heart."
"If these Six Thieves do not die, your heart cannot be pure; if the six faculties are not severed, the true scriptures will be hard to obtain."
"What you did today was neither a display of savagery nor an indulgence in violence."
"Rather, you used these thunderous means-to slay evil and reveal righteousness!"
"This is the mind monkey returning to the righteous path, the Six Thieves vanishing without a trace."
Xuanzang's voice resounded like great temple bells, making Sun Wukong's heart and spirit tremble.
Sun Wukong's originally careless expression slowly grew more restrained. He blinked, seeming to grasp something of the meaning.
He drew a deep breath, pressed his palms together, and bowed deeply to Xuanzang, his tone more reverent than ever before:
"Your disciple... has learned his lesson!"
"All right. Let us be on our way."
Xuanzang mounted the tiger again.
"Yes, Master!"
Sun Wukong shouldered the luggage. When he looked back, he saw that the six corpses lying on the ground had turned into six wisps of blue smoke, curling upward before vanishing without a trace.
Meanwhile, at the Great Thunderclap Temple in the Western Heaven.
Auspicious clouds swirled, and the Buddha's light shone everywhere.
Tathagata Buddha sat upright upon the Lotus Pedestal, his wisdom eyes opening and closing slightly as his gaze rested on the six dissipating wisps of blue smoke.
Suddenly, an exceedingly rare flicker crossed the Buddha's solemn, majestic face, unchanged for ten thousand years.
The Buddha leaned forward slightly and glanced at Guanyin below.
"Venerable Guanyin."
"World-Honored One?" Guanyin asked, pressing her palms together.
"Thank you for your efforts!"
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