Wukong told them how Bajie had been helping people in the city.
Tang Sanzang was delighted. "Wonderful! Wonderful! Though Bajie is rather lazy at times, he has a Bodhisattva's heart for helping others!"
"Never mind that for now," Wukong said. "Have the doctor examine your injury!"
"Quite right," Tang Sanzang said. Then he thanked the physician. "Thank you for coming a hundred li to treat this poor monk, sir. My injured leg makes it difficult to stand, so I cannot bow to you. Please forgive me."
The old physician stroked his somewhat unkempt beard. "No need for such courtesy, Elder. Your fine disciple can ride the clouds and mist. We covered those few dozen li in the blink of an eye. It was nothing. Let me examine your injury now."
Tang Sanzang extended his injured leg.
The old physician first inspected it carefully, then took Tang Sanzang's pulse. After that, he felt the injured area and the flesh around it. Tang Sanzang frowned and cried out in pain. The old physician frowned a little too. "Elder, when were you injured?"
"Nearly three months ago," Tang Sanzang said.
"How strange! How strange!" the old physician said, frowning.
"What, is my master badly hurt?" Wukong asked.
The old physician shook his head. "You could call it serious, yet it is slight; you could call it slight, yet it is serious."
"What do you mean, slight and serious?" Wukong said. "I can plainly see it's nothing too grave. Are you deliberately making a mystery of it?"
"Wukong, mind your manners!" Tang Sanzang said.
"Your fine disciple is quite right, Elder," the old physician said. "He must know something of medicine himself."
"Sir, what exactly is wrong with my leg?" Tang Sanzang asked.
"Your leg was very badly injured," the old physician said. "At