The room fell silent.
Bajie's hand stopped halfway through rubbing his eyes.
Little White Dragon said nothing.
Sha Wujing sat ramrod straight.
A-Hu lay by the door.
After Wukong's words fell, it was as though someone had softly breathed outside the room.
Xuanzang lowered his eyes and watched the lamp.
Its light left his face half lit, half shadowed.
Seeing Xuanzang remain silent, Wukong suddenly leaped back onto the roof beam, crossed his legs, and pillowed his head on his hands with a laugh.
"Ah, Master, I was only joking. Go to sleep, go to sleep. I've thought it all through. Whatever happens, you'll always be Old Sun's master. Whoever you are, you're the only master I'll acknowledge."
Just then, an icy voice sounded in Xuanzang's ear.
It was the Heavenly Dao.
[You must not speak.] [Matters beyond heaven must not be revealed.]
The flame abruptly sank.
The entire room seemed pinned beneath an invisible hand.
Xuanzang smiled and rubbed his head.
Bajie shuddered.
He hunched his neck and muttered, "Why did it suddenly get so cold..."
Wukong's gaze changed at once.
"Master?"
Xuanzang raised a hand.
"It's nothing."
He looked up at Wukong on the beam.
"Since you wish to know."
"Then let your master tell you a story."
Wukong froze for a moment.
Bajie blinked.
"A story?"
"Master, you're telling stories in the middle of the night?"
"Another story about some buddha?"
Xuanzang shook his head.
"In that story, there were no divine powers, immortals, buddhas, or demons."
"It was merely the story of an ordinary man."
Wukong slowly sat upright.
Xuanzang watched the lamplight, his voice calm.
"Once, there was a child whom people called clever from an early age."
"But life did not run so smoothly."
"His mother died young."
"When he was