Chan Master Wuchao stared fixedly at Xuanzang.
"You... had already learned it?"
Xuanzang remained calm and bowed slightly:
"This sutra was taught to this humble monk by a senior. It is the foundation of all I have learned, and I would never dare forget it."
Chan Master Wuchao fell silent for a long time.
He looked at Xuanzang, and the astonishment in his eyes finally dissolved into a long, complicated sigh.
"So... you had already attained understanding."
"Since you already understand, why go to the Western Heaven? Why not stay in this tree and practice withered meditation with me, contemplating the Great Way together?"
Xuanzang pressed his palms together and bowed deeply to Chan Master Wuchao, his voice sincere:
"You offered me the sutra out of compassion, to safeguard this humble monk on his Journey to the West."
"When an elder bestows a gift, one dares not refuse."
"But what you cultivate is 'Seeing the Five Aggregates as Empty,' using it to protect yourself and preserve your own virtue."
"What this humble monk cultivates is 'Delivering All from Suffering.'"
"Your Spirit Mountain is in the tree. Mine is beneath my feet, among all living beings."
He gazed intently at the young monk before him. Those eyes were clear as water, yet unfathomably deep, as though they could reflect every manifestation of the world.
After a long while, Chan Master Wuchao's expression grew exceedingly complicated.
There was irritation at being challenged by a junior, but also a trace of admiration he could scarcely put into words.
"What a sharp tongue. And what a claim to deliver all from suffering."
Chan Master Wuchao swept his broad sleeve. A meaningful smile appeared on his once withered, still face, and he asked in a ringing voice:
"Then do you know-"
"Seek not the Buddha far away on Spirit Mountain; Spirit Mountain lies within your heart."
"Everyone possesses a Spirit Mountain pagoda; beneath that pagoda, cultivate with care."
The four lines rang out like great bronze bells, reverberating through the mountain forest.
Chan Master Wuchao fixed Xuanzang with a blazing gaze. "Holy monk, since you know the true meaning of the Heart Sutra, you should know that Spirit Mountain is not far away, but within your heart. If it is already there, why trek a hundred and eight thousand li? Why seek scriptures written in words? Would it not be a shorter path to sit here in stillness with me and point directly to your true heart?"
This was a heart-demon trial.
An ordinary cultivator hearing those words might have found his resolve shaken, and even begun to contemplate abandoning the path.
Yet Xuanzang merely smiled faintly.
He stepped forward, his straw sandals making a soft rustle against the solid earth.
"Chan Master, those words express your principle, but not this humble monk's path."
Xuanzang's clear voice pierced the mountain mist:
"Spirit Mountain does indeed lie within the heart. But without walking those hundred and eight thousand li, without enduring the eighty-one tribulations, that Spirit Mountain within the heart is merely a castle in the air, flowers in a mirror, the moon upon water."
"Everyone possesses a Spirit Mountain pagoda. But without walking toward it step by step, how can one cultivate a true self beneath it?"
Xuanzang raised his head and looked straight at Chan Master Wuchao high above him. "You dwell in your nest. Though you have attained peace, you are also trapped within it. Having never witnessed the suffering of this world, you believe cultivating yourself alone is enough."
"But the path this humble monk must walk is to lay the Spirit Mountain within his heart upon the earth beneath his feet."
"Every step walked is a step cultivated."
"Every suffering witnessed is an affliction delivered."
"Until this Journey to the West reaches its end, the road this humble monk has walked will be Spirit Mountain, and the living beings he has delivered will be the true scripture."
His words struck the earth with ringing force.
The mountain forest fell utterly silent.
Chan Master Wuchao looked at Xuanzang, the light in his eyes wavering.
At last, all his emotions dissolved into one long sigh.
"Excellent. Excellent."
"Golden Cicada Child... you truly are different in this lifetime."
"Those who follow different paths cannot plan together. Since you insist on entering the world and wading into these muddy waters, this humble monk will say no more."
With that, Chan Master Wuchao flickered into a streak of golden light and flew toward the brushwood nest in the treetop.
Though he departed, his voice drifted down, carrying a warning that sounded almost prophetic:
"Only, holy monk, do not be too confident."
"You say Spirit Mountain lies within the heart, but do you know that the demons of the heart are hardest to subdue?"
"The trials ahead lie not in mountains and rivers, but in human hearts. Listen well-"
"Speak not of Spirit Mountain being near; the heart's desires are hardest to clear.
Yellow wind blinds the eyes of wisdom; flowing sands bar the open road.
A thousand mountains, a thousand waters run deep; miasma and demons abound.
Should you reach Sky-Reaching Cliff, set your heart at ease and fear not.
When you come to Ear-Rubbing Rock, turn your feet sideways as you tread.
Take care within the Black Pine Forest; demon foxes often block the road.
Spirits fill the kingdoms and cities; demon lords crowd the mountains.
Tigers sit in halls of governance; gray wolves serve as chief clerks.
Lions and elephants all proclaim themselves kings; tigers and leopards serve as royal attendants.
Though the wild boar has taken vows, greed and delusion linger in his heart.
The little dragon lifts the carrying pole; water monsters stand upon the thoroughfare.
Most lamentable is the old Stone Monkey, though today he has returned to righteousness.
Still he harbors wrath and anger; another day, his heart will find no ease.
Should anger rise in him again, only severed bonds will remain."
When the verse ended, the enormous Fragrant Cypress Tree abruptly withdrew its auspicious aura, and its golden light dispersed, as though all the wonders of a moment before had been an illusion.
At those words, Sun Wukong's grin froze.
His two round ears pricked up, and a savage gleam filled his Fiery Golden Eyes.
"That old fellow! Still insulting people as he leaves!"
Sun Wukong flew into a thunderous rage, pointing at the treetop and cursing:
"What's this 'most lamentable is the old Stone Monkey' and 'only severed bonds will remain'? He's calling Old Sun an ungrateful beast!"
"Old Sun has escorted Master with unwavering loyalty! When have I ever harbored anger?!"
"Take this!"
The more Sun Wukong thought about it, the angrier he became. That old monk had never once looked him in the eye, and now he had to leave behind a few slanderous lines as well.
He shot upward, raised the Golden Cudgel, and drove it viciously at the bird's nest in the treetop.
Boom-!!
Yet however the Golden Cudgel churned, the Fragrant Cypress Tree merely sprouted countless lotuses. Auspicious mist shielded it in layer upon layer, leaving him unable to touch even a single leaf.
Though Sun Wukong possessed the strength to churn seas and overturn rivers, he could do nothing to this tiny bird's nest.
"Enough, Wukong."
Xuanzang's calm voice reached him.
Sun Wukong stiffened, somersaulted through the air, and landed in a huff:
"Master! That old bird has gone too far! He insulted me!"
"He was not insulting you."
"What he cultivates is withdrawal from the world, and so he can foresee the hardships ahead and offer warnings. He said you 'harbor wrath and anger' because the hostility within your heart has yet to fade, and you are quick to anger when trouble arises."
Xuanzang looked at Sun Wukong, his tone softening:
"Wukong, if these few words truly provoke you to anger, aren't you fulfilling his prophecy?"
Sun Wukong froze.
He scratched his furry cheek and thought for a long while before putting away his cudgel, somewhat deflated:
"Fine, fine! Master, your tongue is too nimble. I can't argue with you. But that old fellow really is infuriating. He'd better not cross my path again!"
Zhu Bajie had listened in a fog of confusion, rubbing his large belly and chuckling foolishly.
Ao Lie silently adjusted the carrying pole on his shoulder, a thoughtful gleam passing through his eyes.
"Let's go."
Xuanzang patted A-Hu's head. Without another glance at Futuo Mountain, he turned his resolute gaze westward.
"The road lies beneath our feet. What need is there for others' idle words?"
The wind rose, and clouds surged.
The master and his disciples gradually disappeared beyond the end of the mountain path.
Only Chan Master Wuchao remained atop Futuo Mountain, seated in his nest in the Fragrant Cypress Tree, watching their retreating figures as a wisp of golden flame danced at his fingertips, flickering between light and darkness.
"Knowing the emptiness of all forms, yet still clinging to entering the world..."
"Xuanzang, this is no journey to fetch scriptures."
The old Chan master murmured softly, his voice scattering in the wind:
"You clearly mean to rebuild Spirit Mountain."
Before you continue