Night had fallen.
"It worked!"
A low cry, hushed and restrained, broke through the monotonous wind in the camp.
Little White Dragon straightened abruptly. Relief spread across his handsome face, blackened somewhat by smoke from the firewood.
He drew a deep breath, steadied his hands, and slowly lifted the lid.
A pot of piping-hot wild greens and brown rice porridge.
Steam billowed upward.
There was no strange smell.
The clear rice broth bubbled, dotted with a few emerald-green leaves, and a grassy fragrance drifted out with the steam.
Bajie scrambled up from the ground and crowded beside the pot, his little eyes round and wide. He thrust his nose forward and took two great, snuffling breaths.
"Well, I'll be! Wonders never cease!"
Disbelief covered Zhu Bajie's face. He circled the iron pot twice, even bending down to peer beneath it, as though checking whether some spell lay hidden there.
"You actually managed to make something fit for a human!"
He took another deep sniff, narrowing his eyes.
"That smell... you didn't sneak in a spell while I was napping, did you?"
"Get lost! Don't spray spit into my porridge!"
Little White Dragon scolded him lightly and pushed him aside.
Then, with the utmost care, he ladled out a bowl.
Drawing a deep breath, he carried the porridge over to Xuanzang.
He extended both hands steadily.
"Master, please have your meal."
Little White Dragon's voice was tight with tension.
Xuanzang slowly opened his eyes.
Looking at his third disciple, who had put himself through such an ordeal just to cook porridge, he could not help smiling faintly.
He reached out with both hands and solemnly accepted the bowl of wild greens porridge.
Lowering his head, he blew away the steam drifting over its surface and took a small sip from