Xuanzang finally moved.
Wukong still did not raise his head.
He clutched the hem of his robe.
The stitches were crude, neither neat nor beautiful.
But Xuanzang had sewn it for him by hand, and Wukong had always protected it with his magic.
After all this time, it still looked just as it had at the beginning.
Xuanzang reached out and gently stroked his head.
Wukong did not pull away.
He simply kept his head lowered and let him.
Xuanzang's touch was light.
Just as it had been when he wiped the mud from his face beneath Five Elements Mountain.
Wukong's throat bobbed.
The oil lamp in the room flickered again.
Xuanzang gently patted his head.
"Wukong, what is the full name of the Heart Sutra?"
Keeping his head lowered, Wukong said, "The Perfection of Prajna Heart Sutra."
Xuanzang nodded.
"All those things you just said, asked, and thought."
"That is prajna."
Wukong froze. "Prajna? Doesn't that just mean wisdom?"
Xuanzang nodded, then gently shook his head.
"All Buddhas arise from prajna."
"It is wisdom."
"But it goes beyond cleverness and intellect."
"Nor is it merely the ability to analyze, judge, create, and think."
"Still less is it what the world calls quick wit and worldly understanding."
He looked into Wukong's eyes.
"Prajna is seeing clearly."
"Seeing yourself clearly."
"Seeing others clearly."
"Seeing clearly where something comes from and where it goes."
"Seeing clearly that the beauty before your eyes will change."
"That suffering will change too."
"Seeing clearly that you cannot hold on to it."
"And seeing clearly that, though you cannot hold on to it, it is still before you now."
Wukong said nothing.
His eyes merely shifted a little.
Xuanzang said, "You feel that all this is like a dream because your prajna has begun to