Red Boy froze in Princess Iron Fan's arms.
He tilted his head up, looking at his mother's face, smeared with tears and blood, then turned to look at Guanyin Bodhisattva, who stood three feet away.
The Bodhisattva's white robes were pure as snow, untouched by a speck of dust.
Her face was veiled in a faint sacred radiance, filled with compassion, yet as unchanging as a glacier.
"Mother?"
Red Boy's voice began to tremble, his small hands braced against his mother's chest.
"What does that mean? What do you mean, 'let him come with me'?"
Princess Iron Fan did not utter a word.
Her arms tightened abruptly, all ten fingers clutching the fabric at Red Boy's back in a death grip, veins bulging across the backs of her hands.
She held him so tightly that Red Boy could barely breathe.
"Rakshasa Woman, let go."
Guanyin Bodhisattva called to her softly, her voice calm and gentle.
"You know it in your heart. This day was always going to come."
Princess Iron Fan shuddered violently.
Slowly, she raised her head and loosened her hold on Red Boy. Nothing remained on her face but shattered desperation.
Her cracked lips trembled for a long time before she finally forced a few words through her teeth:
"Bodhisattva... give me a few more years. I beg you..."
Holding Red Boy, she shuffled half a step forward on her knees and bowed her head:
"He's still little. He doesn't understand yet. He can't be without me..."
Guanyin Bodhisattva gently shook her head, her gaze flowing like water over those trembling shoulders.
"You knew from the beginning that you were destined to have no children."
The words were exceedingly soft, yet they struck everyone's ears like a muffled thunderclap.
Even Wukong gave a slight start.
Bajie was so