Sha Wujing

As Xuanzang spoke the words "How Is It Pure," a gentle breeze seemed to sweep across the murky, eight-hundred-li realm of flowing sand.

The strange man stood dazed, feeling the warmth of the palm resting on his head. In five hundred years, apart from the icy river water and illusory flying swords, it was the only warmth he had felt.

"They're gone..."

He lowered his head and looked at his callused hands, his voice trembling.

"The swords are gone... the pain is gone too..."

"The Curtain-Rolling General is gone... the man-eating monster is gone too..."

An immense emptiness engulfed him in an instant.

He looked up blankly at Xuanzang, his eyes as lifeless as cold ashes.

"Holy monk... I don't hurt anymore."

"But... my heart feels empty."

"What... am I now?"

Xuanzang reached out and gently wiped the mud from the strange man's forehead with his sleeve.

"Look at this river."

Then he pointed toward the vast, turbid Flowing Sand River behind the strange man, its waters rushing along with mud and sand, and said quietly:

"Mud and sand mingle, making it hopelessly murky, so everyone calls it 'flowing sand.' But leave it to settle, and the sand sinks to the bottom while the water clears on its own."

"Sand has always been sand, and water has always been water. When were they ever truly confused?"

"You are neither Juan Lian nor a demon."

"You are simply yourself, pure from the beginning."

"Master..."

The strange man's voice was still hoarse, but its vicious edge was gone.

"If I'm neither an immortal nor a monster... what else can I be?"

Xuanzang looked at him, his gaze burning like a torch.

"I do not know either. You must reach that understanding yourself."

"I intend to travel west, seeking truth and knowledge of myself."

Then Xuanzang actually pressed his palms together and bowed to the strange man, asking:

"Would you be willing to travel west with me, to cultivate together and seek understanding together?"

At those words, the strange man kowtowed heavily, tears of gratitude streaming down his face. "Your disciple... is willing."

"Wukong, a razor." Xuanzang held out his hand to Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong chuckled. "Coming right up, Master. This is easy enough for me."

With a point of his finger, he conjured an ordination razor and a basin of water.

Xuanzang raised the razor and brought it down.

The wild mass of red hair, a symbol of madness and monstrosity, drifted away on the cold wind and mingled with the yellow sand beneath their feet.

"Worldly ties are like hair. Once cut, all fall away."

The strange man rubbed his bare scalp. The cool sensation felt unfamiliar, yet left him extraordinarily clearheaded.

He looked at the unfamiliar self reflected in the basin-no longer hideous, no longer twisted. Though his face was still blue-black, his features had relaxed, like a stubborn rock washed clean by a torrential rain.

"Thank you, Master."

He clumsily pressed his palms together, his movements awkward but devout.

Just then, a rapid whistling through the air came from the heavens.

"Sanzang! Great Sage! Have mercy!"

Everyone looked up to see an auspicious cloud plummeting toward them. A young pilgrim stood atop it, holding a solid iron staff, his expression anxious. Before he had even landed, he shouted, "You must not kill the monster in the Flowing Sand River! He is..."

Before he could finish, Mucha's words caught in his throat.

His eyes widened at the scene before him. The "Curtain-Rolling General," who should have been ferocious and locked in a fierce, evenly matched battle with Sun Wukong, was now kneeling obediently before Xuanzang, his large head freshly shaved and his expression as peaceful as an old monk who had spent years eating vegetarian meals and chanting the Buddha's name.

Where was even the slightest trace of demonic aura?

Mucha lowered his cloud and landed on the bank. The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked awkwardly at Xuanzang. "Well... am I too late?"

Xuanzang raised one palm and inclined his body slightly, his expression calm. "Sorry to have troubled you with concern, pilgrim. This brave man has relinquished his attachments and wishes to travel west with me."

"Relinquished his attachments?" Mucha stared in astonishment, then turned to the strange man and called tentatively, "Sha Wujing?"

The strange man froze, then answered instinctively, "Yes... venerable one, are you calling me?"

Mucha breathed a sigh of relief, clasped his hands toward the west, and said with a rueful smile, "You have actually forgotten your past. Do you remember that the Bodhisattva guided you, gave you the river's name as your surname and the Dharma name Sha Wujing, and told you to wait here for the Pilgrim so you could travel west together?"

He glanced at Xuanzang, his eyes filled with admiration and helplessness.

This Pilgrim really is uncanny.

"The Bodhisattva is recuperating in seclusion. Having calculated that you should be passing through here, and fearing that you would fight among yourselves and cause more trouble, the Bodhisattva sent me to remind him!"

"Sha Wujing... Wujing..."

The strange man-now Sha Wujing-listened to Mucha's words. A flicker of bewilderment crossed his newly clear eyes, followed by profound guilt.

He lowered his head and looked at his rough, broad hands, smiling bitterly. "Your rebuke is justified, venerable one. The flying swords conjured by my inner demon tormented me until I lived in a haze, knowing only pain and resentment. I forgot the Bodhisattva's kindness in guiding me, and even this name, casting them beyond the ninth heaven."

He turned to Xuanzang and bowed deeply once more. "Had Master not cut away my hair today and shattered the delusions in my heart, I fear I would still be in this Flowing Sand River, a mad demon who knew only how to devour people."

Xuanzang remained calm and said only, "It was the working of karmic affinity, neither early nor late. Since the Bodhisattva had already guided you, I merely awakened you on the Bodhisattva's behalf."

Seeing this, Mucha also marveled inwardly.

"Since your place as his disciple is settled, the rest is simple."

Mucha put aside his surprise and pointed at the boundless Flowing Sand River. "Master, this Weak Water was formed from the Heavenly River. Not even a goose feather floats upon it, and birds struggle to cross. Though the Great Sage has divine abilities, he cannot carry you across. To cross the river, we must borrow something."

"What?" Sun Wukong asked.

Mucha pointed at the ragged clothes Sha Wujing had piled on a reef. The most conspicuous thing among them was a ghastly white necklace.

"These Nine Skulls."

At that, Sha Wujing hurriedly brought the necklace over in both hands and said uneasily, "Pilgrim, these... these are things I found in the river. This Weak Water swallows everything, but these nine skulls alone do not sink. I found them wondrous, and I was lonely, so I collected them and wore them around my neck..."

At this point, he stole an apprehensive glance at Xuanzang, afraid his master would think him a perverse demon who collected human remains.

Mucha picked up the explanation and took out a Red Gourd. "This is a treasure bestowed by the Bodhisattva, and these Nine Skulls are the remains of previous pilgrims."

"Arrange them according to the Nine Palaces, as the Bodhisattva instructed, then place the gourd in the center. They will become a Dharma Boat that can carry you across this Weak Water."

Xuanzang said softly, "Amitabha Buddha. This Weak Water can sink all things, but it cannot sink a sincere heart seeking the Way."

Sha Wujing hesitated no longer. Following Mucha's instructions at once, he took down the skulls, tied them with cord into the Nine Palaces arrangement, placed the Bodhisattva's gourd in the center, and invited his master down to the water's edge.

"Thank you for your guidance, pilgrim."

Xuanzang pressed his palms together and bowed to Mucha.

Mucha returned the bow. "You are too kind, Master. The Bodhisattva is healing in seclusion and cannot spare the attention, so I was specially ordered to see you through this stretch of the journey and escort you across the river. Please board quickly so I can return and report."

"Sorry for the trouble, pilgrim."

Xuanzang bowed again, then stepped steadily onto the Dharma Boat.

Bajie then led A-Hu aboard, followed by Little White Dragon carrying the luggage on a shoulder pole.

Sun Wukong followed behind, half on cloud and half on mist.

Sha Wujing picked up the Demon-Subduing Treasure Staff and pushed lightly against the bank.

The Dharma Boat left the bank and sailed toward the opposite shore.