Five Hundred Years After Journey to the West

At Spirit Mountain, Tang Sanzang and his four disciples had completed their sacred mission. The Buddha himself bestowed titles upon them: Tang Sanzang became the Sandalwood Merit Buddha, Sun Wukong the Victorious Fighting Buddha, Zhu Bajie the Pure Altar Emissary, and Sha Wujing a Golden Arhat. Even the Little White Dragon, who had carried Tang Sanzang throughout their journey, successfully transformed and was named the Eight-Division Heavenly Dragon Extensive Benefit Bodhisattva. The entire Spirit Mountain was suddenly ablaze with Buddhist light, golden lotuses blooming everywhere.

At the foot of Spirit Mountain, a gaunt beggar gazed at the radiant peak, his eyes filled with disdain and a barely perceptible trace of resentment.

The Three Realms noticed that the newly enlightened Victorious Fighting Buddha had indeed changed. The once hot-tempered monkey, upon achieving Buddhahood, retreated into seclusion for five hundred years. He didn't return to Flower Fruit Mountain, nor did he wander about stirring up trouble as he once did. Instead, he quietly remained at Mount Emei, the mountain bestowed upon him by the Buddhist order, meditating for five centuries. He had become as still as a clay bodhisattva in a temple, no longer meddling in the affairs of the Three Realms.

As time passed, the legend of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven gradually faded into myth. In the Three Realms, apart from a few who still remembered the audacious monkey, most cultivators only knew of a great power on Mount Emei called the Victorious Fighting Buddha.

In the Western Continent of Cattle, since Tang Sanzang and his disciples had vanquished demons and evil spirits five hundred years ago, only Buddhist temples and nations remained. All other beings, whether celestial or demonic, had vanished. The entire continent was populated solely by Buddhist devotees.

A gaunt beggar sat on the ground, his body too weak to continue his journey.

"Plop!"

A coarse flatbread landed in front of the beggar. He glanced at it but made no move to pick it up.

The woman who had tossed the bread, about forty years old, saw the beggar's lack of response and clasped her hands, uttering, "Amitabha."

Upon hearing the Buddhist chant, the beggar seemed to grow agitated, but he quickly composed himself. He continued to stare vacantly at the sky, unmoved by the food before him.

Suddenly, the sky opened up with a heavy downpour. The townspeople scurried for shelter, but the beggar remained seated, allowing the rain to wash over him.

After some time, a little girl appeared, holding an umbrella over the beggar's head to shield him from the rain.

"Why did you become a beggar?" she asked, puzzled. "You could join a monastery and become a Buddhist disciple. Then you wouldn't have to endure the wind and sun out here."

Looking into the girl's innocent eyes, the beggar, who hadn't spoken in a long time, finally broke his silence. His voice was hoarse, with a hint of defiance.

"Buddha," he said, "is not worthy of my devotion."

The little girl's face filled with shock. She quickly covered the beggar's mouth, saying, "No, you can't blaspheme against Buddha. You'll be burned as a heretic."

The beggar gave a bitter laugh but said no more.

The girl left her umbrella with the beggar. Soon after, a group of people arrived and took her away.

From passersby, the beggar learned that the Guanyin Zen Temple had accepted a new female disciple. She was said to have an innate Buddhist nature, and when she recited sutras, she could supposedly animate the statue of Guanyin Bodhisattva. This news had brought great fame to the temple.

The beggar looked at the umbrella in his hand, his face filled with sorrow. He knew that the innocent little girl was gone.

He cast a long, deep look at the distant Guanyin Zen Temple, then took the umbrella and began moving in a direction from his memory.

In the Western Paradise.

The Buddha opened his eyes. Five hundred years had passed, yet his power hadn't increased at all. He knew he had reached a plateau; time could no longer enhance his abilities.

As if remembering something, the Buddha's face took on a compassionate expression. He formed a flower-pinching mudra with his hand, his body shimmering with golden light. Soon, a monk in a kasaya appeared before him, addressing him as "World-Honored One."

This monk was called Ah Nan, a disciple of the Buddha.

"Ah Nan, is the elixir ready? It's been five hundred years," the Buddha spoke slowly.

Ah Nan clasped his hands and replied gravely, "Your Holiness, I have been refining it with the Pure World Lapis Lazuli Fire for five hundred years, but the elixir has yet to take form. However, please be at ease. In another two hundred years, it will surely be complete."

"Two hundred years. So be it, so be it," the Buddha said, closing his eyes and becoming as still as a golden statue.

Ah Nan bowed silently and slowly vanished.

"I'm exhausted. My body feels weaker and weaker. Damn that... old man. One day, this old monkey will make you regret it," the beggar grumbled, feeling his strength waning. However, when he was about to mention a certain name, he seemed to think better of it and swallowed the words.

Tired from walking, the beggar lay down under a large tree. Several monkeys in the tree curiously observed this unexpected visitor, making faces at him.

The beggar waved his hand, beckoning the monkeys to come down from the tree.

Strangely, the usually mischievous monkeys seemed unable to refuse the beggar's request. They all came down from the tree, carrying various fruits in their hands, offering them to the beggar as if making an offering.

The beggar stroked the monkeys before him, then accepted their fruit offerings and began to eat voraciously.

Fruit juice trickled down the corners of his mouth, making him look quite disheveled.

"Go now, little monkeys," he said after finishing the fruit. "Don't tell anyone you saw me."

The monkeys scattered and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

In the sky, auspicious clouds drifted by. A flash of golden light appeared in the beggar's eyes before he closed them, leaning against the tree and falling into a deep sleep.

In the heavens, Guanyin Bodhisattva, seated on a lotus platform, suddenly opened her eyes and frowned. She looked down at the mortal world but saw nothing unusual.

"Bodhisattva, what's wrong?" asked a childlike figure behind Guanyin. This was Red Boy, Guanyin's attendant, though he no longer displayed his former arrogance and now appeared humble and obedient.

Guanyin Bodhisattva shook her head without saying anything. She thought she might have been mistaken; she had sensed someone observing her, but upon careful investigation, she found no one suspicious.

"It must have been my imagination," she thought. "To think that my temple has received an innately gifted disciple. This will bring another powerful cultivator to my Southern Sea Bamboo Grove."

Guanyin Bodhisattva dismissed the feeling, convinced she must have been mistaken. There were few beings in the Three Realms capable of observing her without being detected, and they wouldn't waste their time watching her anyway.