Wind swept through the gateway.
It set the banners on either side snapping in the wind.
The Ruler of Chechi Kingdom stood at the very front.
His face was frighteningly pale, his eyes still red and swollen.
The moment he saw the approaching procession, his knees nearly buckled.
The Queen beside him hurriedly reached out to steady him.
"Your Majesty."
The Ruler of Chechi Kingdom drew a sharp breath.
"We are fine."
So he said.
But his hands were still trembling.
Especially when he saw Wukong walking behind Xuanzang with the Golden Cudgel over his shoulder, his eyelid twitched violently.
The towering Dharma Form that had blotted out the sky and sun immediately surfaced in his mind.
The words "muddleheaded ruler" still seemed to thunder in his ears.
He instinctively looked toward the back of the procession.
He wanted to find the Three National Preceptors.
But they were not there.
There was only a group of monks.
Their builds were ordinary.
Their robes were ordinary.
Their faces were ordinary, too.
The Ruler of Chechi Kingdom gave them only a glance before hurriedly looking away.
Xuanzang led the procession to the city gate and stopped.
The Ruler of Chechi Kingdom actually dropped to his knees with a thud.
He prostrated himself on the ground.
"Holy Monk!"
At the sight, the officials all fell to their knees.
"We respectfully welcome the Holy Monk!"
Five hundred monks stood behind Xuanzang.
Conflicting emotions filled every face.
They had once been driven in and out through this very gate.
Like livestock.
They had carried timber on their shoulders.
They had suffered lashes across their backs.
Even the townspeople along the road had looked at them with cold, numb indifference.
As though this was simply how things ought to be.
Xuanzang turned aside.
He did