Intrinsically pure

"Splash-"

The murky yellow river parted to either side, and two figures burst out of the water.

Dragging his Nine-Toothed Rake, Zhu Bajie strode onto the Black Reef by the bank. He was dripping wet, but instead of shaking off the water, he merely glanced behind him.

Behind him, the red-haired, blue-faced monster struggled ashore, one laborious step at a time.

His former savage aura was gone.

He dragged the Demon-Subduing Treasure Staff along the ground, producing a grating screech. His head hung low, tangled hair hiding his face, and faint, uncontrollable tremors still ran through his body, like a condemned man who had just walked away from the execution ground.

"Monster! Take a blow from Old Sun!"

At the sight of the monster coming ashore, golden light blazed in Sun Wukong's eyes. The Golden Cudgel flashed into his hand, and he swung it toward the monster's head with a howl of wind.

Zhu Bajie reacted swiftly, raising his Nine-Toothed Rake to block the blow.

"Clang!"

Sun Wukong frowned and bared his teeth. "Idiot! Why are you protecting him?"

Zhu Bajie shook out his numbed hands, looked at the monster huddled into a ball, and sighed:

"Brother Monkey, hold off for now. This fellow... is seriously ill."

The monster looked at neither of them.

He clutched his chest with both hands, his fingers digging into his dark blue flesh, his knuckles white, as though an invisible blade were lodged there, twisting inch by inch.

Xuanzang did not hurry forward. He simply watched him quietly.

The cold wind whipped his monk's robes, making them snap.

The monster raised his head with difficulty. His indigo face was covered in mud and cold sweat, and his bloodshot eyes fixed on the plainly dressed monk before him.

"Were you... the one who asked... if I wanted... release...?"

The monster's voice was hoarse and broken, every word sounding as though blood were caught in his throat.

Xuanzang inclined his head slightly, holding one palm upright before his chest, his expression calm. "Yes, it was this humble monk."

The monster staggered a few steps forward, then-

Thud.

His knees struck the gravel bank hard.

"Save... save me..."

Xuanzang did not answer.

Only the waters of the Flowing Sand River battered the shore, each crash like thunder.

"Benefactor, what is your origin?" Xuanzang asked softly, watching him.

The monster shuddered and raised his head. Like a dying man rallying one last time, he cried aloud, "Born with a mighty spirit, I roamed ten thousand miles beneath the heavens!"

"My heroic fame rang through the world, a model for all men of valor!"

"Through myriad kingdoms and the nine provinces I strode, across the five lakes and four seas I ventured!"

That was his former glory, the pride engraved into his bones.

With each line he recited, more tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to stop, as though shouting loudly enough could bring back that "Curtain-Rolling General."

"To learn the Way, I wandered to the ends of heaven; to seek a master, I traveled the boundless earth. Year after year, my robe and bowl stayed close; day after day, my mind dared never stray..."

As Zhu Bajie listened to these lines, the idle amusement in his eyes gave way to something more complicated.

"Dozens of times I roamed the land, hundreds of times I wandered far and wide. Thus at last I met a perfected master, who opened the great Way in shining golden light!"

"Three thousand merits fulfilled, I bowed before heaven's sovereign, paying devoted homage toward his radiant splendor. The Jade Emperor raised me in rank, naming me Curtain-Rolling General with his own lips!"

His voice broke on the final words, "naming me Curtain-Rolling General with his own lips."

He raised both hands high, as though still holding the imperial decree from those days, as though the magnificent Lingxiao Treasure Hall still stood before him.

"I guarded the Jade Emperor's imperial carriage! I was a divine general within the South Heaven Gate!"

"If you were a divine general in heaven, how did you fall to such a state?" Xuanzang's voice held neither sorrow nor joy.

The monster slumped to his knees. The imposing air he had forced himself to maintain collapsed in an instant, and he covered his face. "Yes, I was a divine general... how did I become a man-eating fiend..."

"The Glazed Lamp... at the Peach Banquet... I accidentally shattered the Jade Emperor's Glazed Lamp..."

"It was the Queen Mother of the West's treasure... I am guilty... I deserve ten thousand deaths..."

He suddenly clutched his chest, his face contorting as he let out a piercing wail:

"Ah-! It's here! It's here again!!"

"A flying sword! A flying sword through my chest! Once every seven days, this is heaven's punishment... the Jade Emperor is punishing me!"

"Wukong," Xuanzang said quietly.

"Master."

"Look at him. Is there a sword in his chest? Is there a wound?"

Sun Wukong blinked, golden light swirling in his eyes, then shook his head. "Master, Old Sun has checked. His chest is perfectly bare-not even a hair, let alone a sword."

"Did you hear that?"

Xuanzang looked at the monster. "There is no sword."

"No! There is! It's right here!!"

The monster screamed wildly, refusing to believe him. His nails dug deep into his flesh, drawing streams of blood. "The pain cuts into my marrow! How could there be nothing?! You're lying to me! All of you are lying to me!"

He suddenly seized the Demon-Subduing Treasure Staff from the ground and pointed it at Xuanzang, but his hands shook violently, and madness filled his eyes. "The Jade Emperor... he's punishing me...!!"

Sun Wukong scratched his head as he watched the crazed monster, then turned to Xuanzang. "Master, this fellow is deep in the grip of delusion. I'm afraid he won't listen to reason. How about Old Sun knocks him out with a blow? Better than letting him rave here."

Xuanzang shook his head, walked up to the monster, and crouched down, looking straight into his eyes.

"Have you heard the story of Yajñadatta?"

The monster paused and raised his head blankly. He knew nothing of Yajñadatta. All he knew was pain.

Xuanzang began at an unhurried pace. "The Shurangama Sutra records that in the city of Shravasti, there was a madman named Yajñadatta."

"One morning, he gazed into a mirror and adored the head reflected there, with its clearly defined eyes and brows. But when he put the mirror down, he suddenly discovered, to his horror, that he could no longer see his own head."

There was a strange cadence to Xuanzang's voice, one that seemed to quiet even the howling wind around them.

"He thought demons had eaten his head, and so he went mad, running wildly through the city for no reason, crying to everyone he met, 'Where is my head? Where has my head gone?'"

"The more he ran, the more frightened he became; the more frightened he became, the madder he grew. He felt searing pain in his neck, as though countless demons were gnawing at his wound. He believed he was already dead, a headless, vengeful ghost."

The monster listened numbly, his grip on his chest slowly loosening.

"A headless... vengeful ghost..."

Xuanzang looked at him, his gaze blazing like a torch:

"Had Yajñadatta truly lost his head?"

The monster shook his head instinctively.

"If his head was not lost, why did he feel pain? Why did he go mad? Why did he believe himself a ghost?"

Xuanzang drew closer, step by step, each footfall striking the monster's heartstrings:

"Because of delusion."

"He clung to the image in the mirror. The moment he could no longer see it, terror arose."

"You are just the same."

Xuanzang pointed at the monster's chest, where nothing was lodged:

"Your identity as the Curtain-Rolling General is the head in your mirror."

"Five hundred years ago, you shattered the Glazed Lamp. The mirror broke, and you believed you had lost your 'head.'"

"You believed you were no longer a god, and could only be a demon."

"No... that's not true..." the monster protested, trembling, yet his words sounded so feeble. "I ate people... the bones in this river..."

"In this Weak Water, even a goose feather cannot float. Many attempt the crossing, and countless people drown."

Xuanzang's gaze was compassionate. "You saw those bodies, those terrible sights, and the 'divine general' in your heart could not bear such helplessness."

"So you told yourself you had eaten them. You would rather be a vicious murderer than a powerless bystander."

"Because you believed yourself a demon, you 'claimed' those sins, using them to confirm that self who had 'lost his head.'"

The monster stiffened as though struck by lightning.

"Because you believed yourself guilty, you conjured up this flying sword."

Xuanzang continued:

"Day and night, it passes through your chest, punishing that self who 'lost his head.'"

Xuanzang came before him and slowly crouched down, bringing their eyes level.

Those eyes were deep as the sea, reflecting the monster's wretched appearance.

"Yajñadatta remained mad for a long time, until the Buddha told him: your head has always been upon your neck. When was it ever lost?"

"When the frenzied mind ceases, that cessation itself is bodhi."

Xuanzang reached out. He did not try to pull out the sword that had never existed, but gently patted the monster's chest.

"Feel it."

Xuanzang's voice softened, carrying a power that soothed the heart. "Your heart is still beating. Your head is still upon your neck."

"The Jade Emperor did not punish you by making you a monster, nor did he make a flying sword pierce your heart. You are the one who refuses to let go of a shadow already dead."

"No one remembers that Glazed Lamp, nor does anyone remember the man who rolled the curtain."

"When the frenzied mind ceases..."

The monster murmured to himself, as though possessed.

He lowered his head, looking at his mud-stained hands, the hands of a "monster," then felt his chest, where his heart still beat.

"There is no sword..."

He tried taking a deep breath.

The excruciating pain he expected did not come.

Xuanzang reached out and rested his hand on the crown of the monster's head.

"Amitabha Buddha. What is purity? It is the three natures of purity: purity of intrinsic nature, purity of the perceived realm, and purity of each state."