The sun sank westward, and the mountain path gradually leveled out.
Master and disciples entered a dense grove of pines and cypresses.
Ahead, in a hollow among the mountains, towers rose in tiers and halls stood one behind another.
The sunset slanted across the glazed roof tiles, setting them ablaze with dazzling gold and red.
The evening breeze carried the faint, deep sounds of bells and drums from the towers.
Zhu Bajie dragged his Rake behind him, his strides growing shorter and shorter.
"Master, it's getting late. Those drums don't sound far away, so there must be a monastery or temple nearby. Let's spend the night there and set out again tomorrow."
Wukong walked ahead with his staff over his shoulder. At those words, he leaped into the air and shaded his eyes with a hand to take a look.
Landing again, he grinned. "Master, it really is a temple, and a sizable one at that. Just the place to spend the night."
Seated on the tiger's back, Xuanzang nodded slightly. "Very well."
They followed the mountain path onward.
As they neared the monastery gate, Bajie suddenly stopped.
"Huh?" He rubbed his eyes. "Brother Monkey, look!"
Wukong had already seen it without being told.
Outside the gate stood two neatly ordered rows of monks.
There were forty or fifty of them, all wearing bright yellow cassocks and holding Hand Bells, wooden fish, and other ritual instruments. Their formation was immaculate.
At their head stood a plump old monk nearing sixty, with a fair, clean face.
He wore a Vairocana crown on his head and a scarlet cassock over his body.
He held a jade ruyi scepter in both hands, with four or five steward monks following behind him, each looking thoroughly respectful.
As Xuanzang and his companions approached, the plump