Golden Cicada Child looked at Wukong.
His expression was calm, like a bronze mirror reflecting every trace of panic in Wukong's eyes.
Looking at Wukong, he slowly answered, "What I cling to is you yet not you, emptiness yet not emptiness."
Wukong's throat bobbed.
Golden Cicada Child smiled. "Wukong, with a reaction like that, are you afraid your master will lose, or that my fellow seeker will lose?"
Wukong looked at Golden Cicada Child, then at Xuanzang.
The same face.
One wore the Brocade Kasaya, the other plain monastic robes.
But both were his master.
Suddenly, Wukong felt that the cave was too narrow, so narrow that it could not hold two people.
He whispered, "Can't both of you stay?"
As those words left his mouth, his eyes suddenly reddened.
He seemed nothing like himself, but rather the little monkey who had first entered the mountain gates all those years ago.
Golden Cicada Child gazed at Wukong for a long time, then sighed softly.
"Foolish child, a trial cannot be stopped."
Wukong bowed his head and clenched his fists, his knuckles drawn taut and white.
Golden Cicada Child said slowly, "Your master has already become the trial."
He looked at Xuanzang again.
"And so has my fellow seeker."
"There is no escaping it."
Wukong turned to Xuanzang, his gaze filled with a plea unlike any he had ever shown before.
Xuanzang stood there without avoiding his gaze.
He watched Wukong quietly, pain in his eyes, but still shook his head.
"Wukong, this is your master's trial. And as my fellow seeker said, I must pass through it."
Wukong lowered his head little by little.
Xuanzang said gently, "But it is still too early for that. Do you not trust your master?"
Wukong's lips moved, but he said nothing and