pertwk Chapter 1005 An Unusual Suppression
Chapter 1005 An Unusual Suppression
Chu Yang leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine bowl in his hand; the liquid shimmered with an amber light under the lamp. "Master," he said, "you're worried we'll lose our way? Then let me ask you this: why can't we enjoy life? Life is short, barely a hundred years. What is the purpose of our pilgrimage? To seek the true scriptures, to seek liberation. But liberation isn't about starving and freezing like ascetics every day, is it? If Buddha truly cared so much about these trivial matters, why didn't he manage his own mount properly? The Golden-Winged Roc is Buddha's maternal uncle; those three demon kings devoured people in Lion Camel Ridge until the country was destroyed, yet Buddhism turned a blind eye. Now we're just taking a bath in a town, and you're acting like the sky is falling? Master, is your Buddhist philosophy only concerned with us, and not with those high and mighty Bodhisattvas?"
Tang Sanzang's face turned from red to white, then to pale. He looked down at the food and wine on the table, steam still rising, the aroma filling his nostrils. He swallowed hard, his voice much softer: "Benefactor Chu... what you're saying... this humble monk isn't entirely ignorant of it... it's just... it's just that the precepts are in place..."
Seeing that he was wavering, Chu Yang simply pushed the wine bowl in front of Tang Sanzang: "Master, try a sip. This wine won't make you drunk, it just warms you up. That night at Lion Camel Ridge, you were trembling with fear in the cave, and we brothers risked our lives to protect you. Now that we're safe, can't we even have a little fun? Buddhism teaches 'following fate,' and this town is fate. Taking a bath is following fate, eating meat is following fate, drinking wine is following fate. Why do you have to bind yourself so tightly? If you really think this is lewd pleasure, then the bones piled up like mountains at Lion Camel Ridge, and the Bodhisattvas only gave us two magic treasures and one elixir—isn't that an even greater form of lewd pleasure?"
Sun Wukong, amused, slapped the table and exclaimed, "Brother, your tongue's been flying high again! Master, listen to this! Every word you say makes perfect sense! Back in the day, I, Old Sun, wreaked havoc in the Heavenly Palace, eating peaches and drinking wine, and the Buddha didn't do anything to me. Now, on our journey to the West, what's wrong with taking a night's rest? Come, Master, let me offer you a bowl!"
Tang Sanzang stared at the wine bowl before him, his hand trembling slightly. He hesitated for a long time before finally reaching out, gently lifting the bowl, and taking a small sip. The wine went down his throat, spicy yet sweet. He coughed twice, his face flushing again, but he didn't put the bowl down: "This...this wine...it truly warms the body...Amitabha, this humble monk...this humble monk is only having a small sip...I won't overindulge..."
Chu Yang and Sun Wukong exchanged a glance and both burst out laughing. Chu Yang then placed another piece of fish into Tang Sanzang's bowl: "Master, that's right. If Buddha saw you like this, he wouldn't blame you. Come, eat the meat. Where will your strength come from if you don't eat meat? Tomorrow we'll need you to chant sutras to deliver those wronged souls on our journey."
Tang Sanzang picked up the piece of meat, put it in his mouth, and chewed it. It tasted delicious. He stopped chanting Buddhist mantras and said softly, "Benefactor Chu... what you said... this humble monk... this humble monk will have to think about it carefully when I get back... perhaps... perhaps Buddhism is not just about arduous practice..."
Sun Wukong drank heartily and laughed loudly, "Master, you've finally seen the light! Brother, this meal was well worth it! Buddies! Bring two more jars of wine! And another roast pig! Master is having a feast tonight!"
The waiters bustled about, serving dishes and wine. The hall was brightly lit, and people carrying lanterns walked along the street outside, their laughter echoing. Chu Yang leaned back in his chair, watching Tang Sanzang slowly eat meat and drink wine, a smile playing on his lips. He poured another bowl of wine and handed it to Tang Sanzang: "Master, have another sip. Why not? We're not gods or bodhisattvas; we're mortals, we're on a pilgrimage. Mortals should have mortal joys. If bodhisattvas enjoy their leisure on the mountain while we suffer on the road, what's the point of the pilgrimage?"
Tang Sanzang took a second sip of wine, his eyes slightly glazed, but his expression relaxed considerably: "Benefactor Chu... what you say... makes some sense... This humble monk has only known asceticism on his journey, but forgot... forgot that all beings have desires... Perhaps... perhaps moderation... is not necessarily a bad thing..."
Sun Wukong slammed his fist on the table: "Yes, yes, yes! Master, you've finally stopped chanting! Brother, come on, let's drink this bowl! For the hot bath and good wine and meat of Qingfeng Town!"
The three men clinked their bowls together, the aroma of wine filling the air. Tang Sanzang, though only taking small sips, didn't refuse any more. A night breeze blew in from the window, carrying the sweet scent of osmanthus blossoms from the town, mingling with the smell of meat and wine inside. Chu Yang, watching Tang Sanzang's face gradually relax, continued, "Master, look, the people in this town eat meat and drink wine at night, the children play, and the adults chat and laugh. They haven't gone on their pilgrimage, yet they live freely. Why must we suffer? The Buddhist scriptures say 'the sea of suffering is boundless,' but isn't that a sea of suffering meant for us to create our own suffering? We almost died at Lion Camel Ridge, and now that we've reached a safe place, you want us to continue our ascetic practices? Why don't the Bodhisattvas practice asceticism?"
Tang Sanzang put down his chopsticks and sighed, "Benefactor Chu... I'm speechless after your question... Perhaps... perhaps the journey to the West should have a moment of peace... Amitabha, tonight... I'll leave it to you... but I still need to set off early tomorrow morning."
Sun Wukong was so happy his hair stood on end: "Master, you're right! Brother, let's order a few more dishes! A plate of sweet and sour pork ribs! Master, would you like to try some?"
Tang Sanzang surprisingly nodded: "...Try it...it won't hurt..."
The waiter brought in fresh, steaming dishes. Chu Yang ate while chatting with Sun Wukong about Lion Camel Ridge, deliberately raising his voice for Tang Sanzang to hear: "Brother Monkey, you said that when those green-maned lions knelt down begging for mercy, their faces turned green. But when the Bodhisattvas arrive, they act like grandsons. Master, you see, that's reality. The Bodhisattvas themselves don't suffer, yet their mounts lord it over them. And us? Taking a bath and eating a bite of meat, you think it's lewd pleasure. Why not? Because we're not Bodhisattvas, we're living people."
Tang Sanzang chewed on a pork rib, oil staining his lips. He wiped it away, offering no rebuttal, but instead said softly, "Benefactor Chu... your question... this humble monk... this humble monk cannot answer... perhaps Buddhism is inherently meant to engage with the world... rather than solely detached from it..."
The night grew deeper, and after several rounds of drinks and five dishes, Tang Sanzang, though not drunk, had a much softer gaze, no longer as tense as before. Sun Wukong, his face flushed from drinking, put his arm around Chu Yang's shoulder: "Brother, your ability to roast people is truly impressive! Even Master has been convinced! Haha, come on, let's drink again!"
Chu Yang smiled and clinked bowls together: "Master, have you convinced yourself? Why can't we enjoy this moment? The journey to the West is a great undertaking, but our lives are also our own. The Bodhisattvas have given us magical treasures; we must live to use them, right?"
Tang Sanzang put down his wine bowl, clasped his hands together, but did not chant any sutras. He simply looked at the lights outside the window and said, "Benefactor Chu... this humble monk... understands a little... perhaps... this humble monk was too attached in the past... tonight... let's stop here... and set off again tomorrow."
Laughter filled the hall as waiters refilled the wine and dishes. Chu Yang leaned back in his chair, feeling the effects of the alcohol rising, yet his mind remained clear. He knew this meal wasn't just about eating and drinking; it was also about slightly easing the tension that had been building around Tang Seng. Outside the window, the town watchman's clapper sounded long and drawn out, and the night breeze carried the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms, mingling with the warmth of the wine and meat—everything seemed so real.
Sun Wukong let out a drunken hiccup: "Brother, tomorrow morning, I, Old Sun, will have to go to town again to see if I can sell you a good weapon, maybe a scabbard or something. Master, what do you say?"
Tang Sanzang smiled and surprisingly did not object: "...As you wish...this humble monk also wants...to see more of this town..."
The three chatted for a while longer, their topics ranging from the demon king of Lion Camel Ridge to the Bodhisattva's sacred site, and then to the meaning of the pilgrimage. Every sentence Chu Yang posed the question "Why not?", prompting Tang Sanzang to nod repeatedly, and the original pronouncements on precepts gradually diminished to almost nothing. The meal lasted until midnight, when the waiter cleared away the leftovers and served hot tea.
Tang Sanzang sipped his tea, his eyes somewhat dazed: "Benefactor Chu... your words today... have been like a sudden awakening for this humble monk... perhaps Buddhism truly should have more of the warmth of human interaction... rather than being solely austere..."
Chu Yang took a sip of tea: "Master, that's right. Why not? Because no one says that pilgrims have to live like ascetics. We've taken a bath, eaten our fill, and slept well, so we'll be energetic for tomorrow's journey. If the Bodhisattvas saw this, they would only say 'Well done, well done.'"
Sun Wukong was already leaning against the table, snoring, his monkey fur trembling with each breath. Chu Yang helped Tang Sanzang upstairs, and before they returned to their room, he reminded him, "Master, get some rest. The hot spring water is still warm; if you can't sleep, soak in it again."
Tang Sanzang nodded, stopping before entering the room: "Benefactor Chu... thank you... this humble monk... will think it over carefully..."
The door closed, and Chu Yang returned to his room. He lay on the bed, moonlight streaming in through the window, the distant barking of dogs from the town echoing in the distance. He closed his eyes, a smile still playing on his lips. The bath and food he had enjoyed that night had not only relaxed his body but also planted a seed in Tang Seng's heart. That question, "Why not?", was like a key, slowly unlocking the door that Tang Seng had kept tightly shut.
The next morning, sunlight streamed into the inn, and birdsong filled the air. Sun Wukong was the first to wake, stretching and yawning: "Brother! Master! Get up and have breakfast! I'm still hungover from last night!"
Tang Sanzang pushed open the door and stepped out, his monk's robes neatly arranged, but his usual solemnity was gone. He looked at Chu Yang and smiled slightly: "Benefactor Chu... last night... this humble monk thought about it for half the night... perhaps... we should indeed go with the flow... let's go, have something to eat first, and then continue our journey."
The three went downstairs, where a waiter brought out hot porridge, steamed buns, and pancakes. Surprisingly, Tang Sanzang picked up a meat bun, took a bite, and said, "...Hmm...not bad..."
Chu Yang and Sun Wukong exchanged a glance and burst into laughter. Sun Wukong slammed his hand on the table: "Master, you've changed! It's all thanks to my brother!"
Tang Sanzang blushed slightly but did not deny it: "Wukong... what Benefactor Chu said last night... is indeed reasonable... Buddhism is vast, why be bound by trivial matters... We will continue our journey westward, but... but occasionally resting and enjoying ourselves... is also acceptable..."
Chu Yang picked up the bowl of porridge: "Master, that's right. Why not? Because the journey to the West isn't about asceticism, it's about seeking the Way. The Way is in the human world, not in the mountains. Come, eat your fill, let's get going."
After finishing breakfast, they settled the bill and left the inn. The town was bustling with people, the sun shining warmly. Tang Sanzang rode his white dragon horse, Sun Wukong carried his staff in front, and Chu Yang walked beside him. Behind them, the lanterns of the inn still swayed, and the aroma of last night's wine seemed to linger in their nostrils.
"Brother Monkey, shall we come back to this town again?"
"Come on! Master has already agreed! Brother, give him a good talking-to, I love hearing it!"
Tang Sanzang chuckled lightly from his horse: "You two...this humble monk...do as you please..."
The official road stretched forward, dust billowing, as the three figures gradually disappeared into the distance. Smoke from the chimneys of Qingfeng Town still rose behind them, carrying the most ordinary, earthy scent of life. Chu Yang glanced back, smiled, and thought: This journey west has finally gained some flavor.
They hadn't walked far when they came to another small river, with willow trees swaying along its banks. Sun Wukong jumped over to wash his face: "Brother, last night's bath was really enjoyable! Master, what do you think?"
Tang Sanzang dismounted and washed his hands in the river: "...Indeed...I feel refreshed both physically and mentally...Benefactor Chu, I've remembered your question, 'Why not?'..."
Chu Yang squatted by the river, cupped his hands, and took a sip of water: "Master, it's good that you've remembered. In the future, when you encounter problems, don't always recite the precepts first. Ask yourself why you can't. Bodhisattvas can enjoy blessings, so why can't we take a break? On the journey to the West, finding joy amidst hardship is the true path."
Tang Sanzang nodded, his eyes much gentler than before: "...Excellent..."
The Western Paradise, the Great Thunder Temple.
The air here was heavy, as if solidified golden mercury. The rich sandalwood scent transformed into tangible smoke, slowly swirling and coiling on the surface of the Eight Treasures Merit Pool. The main hall soared into the clouds, its countless glazed tiles reflecting a dazzling halo under the ever-shining Buddhist light. Three thousand Buddhas, five hundred Arhats, and eight Vajras stood on either side, each with lowered eyes, hands in mudras, and mouths silently chanting monotonous scriptures unchanged for millennia.
However, the atmosphere inside the main hall today was unusually oppressive.
At the very center, on the colossal nine-tiered lotus platform of merit, sat the immense golden body of the Buddha. His eyes, seemingly capable of seeing through the three realms and six paths, past and future, were now slightly open. His profound gaze pierced through the layers of clouds, landing directly on the pilgrimage team that was slowly traveling along the mortal road below.
On the lotus platform to the right of the main hall, Manjushri Bodhisattva and Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, who had just returned defeated from the mortal realm, faced each other in silence. Manjushri Bodhisattva's usually compassionate and peaceful face now showed a hint of ashen color. Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, on the other hand, gripped his jade ruyi tightly, his knuckles turning a glaringly pale from excessive force.
"Venerable ones, the Buddha's light emanating from you is disordered." The Buddha's voice was slow and deep, echoing across the wide dome of the hall, as if it were coming from all directions at the same time, carrying an unquestionable majesty.
Manjushri Bodhisattva took a deep breath of the sandalwood-scented air, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward slightly: "World Honored One, you are wise. That mischievous monkey is one thing; he has always been a troublemaker for the past five hundred years. But that mortal Chu Yang who appeared out of nowhere is truly despicable. Not only did he use the recording stone, such a heretical magical artifact, to blackmail us, but he also, in broad daylight, used sophistry to disrupt the monastic rules of Buddhism and damage the reputation of Buddhism."
Samantabhadra Bodhisattva snorted coldly, his voice filled with undisguised anger: "World Honored One, that mortal not only extorted my Sword of Severing Karma and the Red Lotus Karmic Fire, but what's even more outrageous is that he dared to bewitch Jin Chanzi into breaking his vows in the inn of Qingfeng Town! Jin Chanzi's ten lifetimes of cultivation and self-control were swayed by his few words, leading him to drink alcohol and eat meat—it's utterly absurd!" (End of Chapter)