Coming to Chang'an to Debate Scripture with Tang Sanzang (Trading Insults)

Clutching the booklet in his hand, Fang Yu gave a wry smile. He felt just like Monkey King. He'd taken a bribe from the Dragon King and had a Divine Ability but unrecognizable master. He pursed his lips. "What a pity, if only I had Universe in the Sleeve." Fang Yu stood on Chang'an, surrounded by bustling crowds of all kinds. Shops lined both sides of the street, Persian merchants led camels at a leisurely pace, and the air was filled with the aroma of roasted flatbread, the rich scent of newly brewed rice wine, and the distant fragrance of sandalwood. This was a stark contrast to the pungent smell of rotting flesh and sulfur he remembered from the Lion Camel Country. "This is the Prosperous Great Tang," Fang Yu murmured to himself, taking in every detail of this magnificent city. In the distance, the golden roofs of the imperial city gleamed in the setting sun; closer, the markets were bustling with traffic, and the pedestrians were well-dressed, their faces radiating the confidence and composure unique to this era. "Gurgle~" Fang Yu's stomach suddenly growled. Having eaten vegetarian meals for so long at Wuzhuang Temple and experienced a great battle with the Dragon King of the South Sea, he was already starving. His gaze swept over the street food stalls, finally settling on a three-story restaurant with a plaque that read "Drunken Immortal Restaurant Pavilion." As soon as he stepped into the restaurant, a waiter came to greet him. The waiter was about fourteen or fifteen years old, with a fair complexion and bright, darting eyes; he was clearly a clever fellow. "Please come in, sir!" the waiter said enthusiastically, leading the way. "Are you here for a meal or to stay the night?" Fang Yu chose a table by the window and sat down: "Ten catties of braised beef, and two jars of good water, please." "Ten catties?" The waiter's eyes widened, and he almost dropped the dishcloth in his hand. The customers at the surrounding tables also turned to look. A middle-aged man dressed in a brocade robe, who looked like a merchant, couldn't help but interject, "Young master, ten catties of beef is probably enough for three tables." Fang Yu grinned, "I have a big appetite." The waiter swallowed hard, "Sir, our braised beef is cooked in a secret old broth; one catty is enough to fill an ordinary person up." "What? Afraid I can't afford it?" Fang Yu pulled out a silver ingot he had casually taken from the Old Cat Demon and slammed it on the table, "Is this enough?" The waiter's face changed, and he quickly smiled apologetically, "No, no, I'll go prepare it right away!" He then dashed off to the kitchen. Soon, ten plates of thickly sliced braised beef were served. The slices of meat were an enticing reddish-brown, glistening with oil, and smelled delicious. Fang Yu didn't stand on ceremony, grabbing his chopsticks and starting to eat heartily. His eating style was quite bold; each bite was half a catty of meat, and after a few chews, he swallowed it. The surrounding diners stared in disbelief, some even forgetting to eat, only concerned with watching this spectacle. "Could this young man be a reincarnation of the gluttonous beast?" a scholar-looking young man muttered under his breath. Fang Yu, with sharp ears, looked up and smiled, "I'm a reincarnated starving ghost." He then stuffed another large mouthful of meat into his mouth. Just as Fang Yu was enjoying his meal, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the restaurant. The crowd on the street surged in one direction like a tide, and the words "Holy Monk" and "sermon" could be faintly heard. "Waiter, what's going on outside?" Fang Yu asked as he ate. The waiter, carrying the second jar of wine, replied, "Sir, don't you know? Today is the day Master Xuanzang of the Great Ci'en Temple is giving a sermon. The whole city is rushing to listen!" Fang Yu suddenly stopped chewing, Golden Light flashing in his eyes: "Tang Sanzang, Tang Xuanzang?" "Shh!" The waiter nervously looked around. "You can't call the Holy Monk by his name directly; you must address him as ' Holy Monk ' or ' Master Sanzang.'" Fang Yu sneered, stuffing the last piece of beef into his mouth and casually wiping the grease from his lips. "Interesting. I'll go join the fun." Having eaten and drunk his fill, Fang Yu strode out of the restaurant and merged into the crowd on the street. The closer he got to the Great Ci'en Temple, the more crowded it became. The Incense Aura grew stronger, and the air was filled with the sounds of chanting and wooden fish drums. Fang Yu stood in the square in front of the temple, looking up at the magnificent temple. The vermilion gates of the Great Ci'en Temple were wide open, flanked by imposing Vajra warrior statues. Inside, incense smoke swirled, and the sound of chanting surged forth like a tide. People from all directions gathered to listen to the sutras. There were richly dressed officials and nobles, commoners in coarse clothes, and even blond-haired, blue-eyed merchants from the West. "Make way! Make way!" Fang Yu, using his extraordinary strength, squeezed to the front, drawing a chorus of discontented murmurs. But he paid no heed, his gaze fixed on the figure on the high platform inside the temple. Tang Xuanzang, draped in Brocade Kasaya, sat upright on a lotus throne. His face was serene and peaceful, a dot of vermilion between his brows, his eyes slightly closed, slowly reciting the sutra. His voice wasn't loud, yet miraculously it resonated throughout the entire square, allowing everyone to hear it clearly. "When Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva was practicing the profound Prajnaparamita..." Fang Yu listened to the familiar Heart Sutra, a cold smile playing on his lips. He could clearly "see" the faint Buddhist light surrounding Xuanzang —a true manifestation of Buddhist cultivation, far beyond the reach of any charlatan. But the more he saw this, the more intense Fang Yu's anger became. He thought of the people of Lion Camel Country who were devoured by monsters, and of the indifference of the high and mighty gods and Buddhas towards the tragedies on earth. "What a Holy Monk," Fang Yu muttered to himself, "You preach and expound the Dharma in Chang'an, saving all sentient beings, but have you ever thought that the foot of Spiritual Mountain is a living hell? The world is full of suffering people. What's the use of believing in Buddha? Cultivating for the Afterlife life? Why does Buddha live forever? Isn't he still attached to the human world? He might as well die in a flash, what a fool you are." Fang Yu's cold laughter was soft, but like a drop of ink falling into clear water, it quickly spread among the devout believers. "You madman! How dare you blaspheme the Holy Monk!" A Confucian scholar wearing a turban was the first to attack, his finger almost poking Fang Yu's nose. The surrounding pilgrims erupted in uproar upon hearing this. Seven or eight women in coarse cloth immediately surrounded him, and an old woman carrying a vegetable basket even spat at Fang Yu: "You rotten-tongued brat! You dare to spout nonsense while the Holy Monk is preaching!" "Did I say something wrong?" A flash of Golden Flames appeared in Fang Yu's eyes. "Do you know that there is a Lion Camel Country at the foot of Spiritual Mountain? Their intestines hang on the city gates as colorful ribbons, and their skulls are piled into pagodas! And the Arhat Bodhisattvas you kneel and worship are meditating a hundred miles away!" The crowd suddenly fell silent. "Spreading heresy!" The Confucian scholar's face turned ashen. "India is a Buddhist Pure Land! How could there be any demons causing trouble!" "Pure Land? I hope you have a complete corpse when you get to the Pure Land." "Amitabha Buddha!" A Buddhist chant, like a clear spring, dispelled the commotion. Xuanzang had somehow appeared on the steps. "Your aura is quite menacing, benefactor." Xuanzang's gaze swept over Fang Yu, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. He waved for the warrior monks to step back, then suddenly bowed deeply. "It was my improper preaching that angered you, benefactor." Fang Yu hadn't expected this and instinctively took a half-step back. He had assumed Tang Sanzang was also unreasonable, but he hadn't expected the other to apologize first. "Why must the monk apologize!" The old woman with the vegetable basket stamped her foot in frustration. "This madman!" "Auntie," Xuanzang interrupted gently. After the old woman retreated hesitantly, he turned to Fang Yu: "Could you describe in detail the hell you witnessed, benefactor?" Fang Yu mischievously, "The Golden-Winged Great Peng likes to dip people in sweet and sour sauce when he eats them, the White Elephant King uses skulls as wine vessels, and the Green Lion Monster's palace is covered with human skin carpets. Is that detailed enough?" The crowd stirred again. This description was so realistic, yet Taiyi from the Spiritual Mountain they had imagined. At the foot of Spiritual Mountain, were there really demons causing trouble? Did the gods and Buddhas really turn a blind eye? Xuanzang remained unfazed. "That's why I'm going to the Western Heaven to worship Buddha and obtain the true scriptures." Before Fang Yu could answer, Xuanzang gestured for a young novice to bring a prayer mat. "Please sit." Seeing that Tang Sanzang wanted to discuss things in detail, Fang Yu plopped down. "Don't speak yet, let me ask you first," Fang Yu preemptively said. "I've heard that the Holy Monk is going to the Western Heaven Paradise to worship Buddha and obtain the scriptures to save the people of the world from suffering." "Then let me ask you~" He smiled, his eyes narrowed, seemingly harmless, but his words were like knives piercing the crowd. "Even if you go to the Western Heaven and successfully obtain the scriptures," Fang Yu's next sentence caused an uproar! "But what does that have to do with the people of the world?" "What does it have to do with anything?!"