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Night had fallen over the mountaintop and the Six Demon Temple. Throughout the day, Wukong had been in the company of his demon friends, exhausting himself alongside them. Now, each had retired to their rooms, falling into deep slumber. However, Wukong lay in bed, suffered from insomnia, all these restless thoughts kept him wide awake, causing him to toss and turn for dozens of times. Finally, he released a deep sigh and sprang up from the bed like a carp, then left his room quietly.
He made his way to the main courtyard, where he could still see the flickering candlelight in Yanyan’s room. Wukong headed in that direction, peering through the window to see Yanyan sleeping soundly at her desk. Clutched in her hands was the attire for the fake wedding tomorrow, her face adorned with a radiant smile that suggested she was indulging in a pleasant dream.
"Girl, how did you manage to sleep so contentedly?" Wukong murmured in a soft voice, a sense of guilt slowly welling up within him. This wasn't the first time Yanyan devoted herself to him without reservation. Even though she willingly did so, how could he fully accept such pure and selfless kindness without feeling unsettled?
Master... the master is the same. The thought of his master brought forth his perpetual unease. Wukong lowered his head and muttered, "Stupid monk." His master was undoubtedly the most foolish and insane person in this world. Clearly, all Tripitaka needed to do was cross one more mountain to obtain the scriptures and achieve enlightenment, but he insisted on turning back for the sake of an unforgivable monkey demon.
Speaking of the master... where is he now?
Wukong aimlessly wandered through the darkness, and he spotted a faint firelight at the bottom of the mountain. As expected, the master and his disciples hadn't gone far. They had set up a camp near the Six Demon Temple, hoping to persuade Wukong to change his mind. Wukong furrowed his brow, intending to turn and leave, but his legs uncontrollably led him towards the source of light.
The monk was meditating with closed eyes and didn't notice Wukong approaching. It was the sharp-eyed Bajie who first spotted him and shouted "Brother," before dashing towards him. Wujing's reaction was also unusually quick; upon hearing Bajie's call, he immediately got up and followed Bajie. Wukong watched his two fellow brothers approaching, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Tripitaka stand up and walk towards him at a slow pace, with the staff in his hand.
"Brother, are you coming back to us? you are finally coming to your senses!" Wujing excitedly stammered, shaking Wukong's arm with force. Bajie delightedly chimed in from the side, urging him to return to the team as soon as possible, so the four of them could continue their journey to the Vulture Peak. Wukong didn't speak, he simply stared at Tripitaka who had reached him. Tripitaka’s face bore the usual serene smile, as if he was confident that Wukong would eventually realize his mistake and turn back, somehow this idea made Wukong feel subtly uncomfortable. He forcefully freed himself from Bajie and Wujing's grasp, adopting a mischievous facial expression and spoke to Tripitaka with a playful tone:
"I'm enjoying my life here, so why should I bother continuing the journey with you guys? I came here to tell you all that I'm getting married tomorrow. Feel free to attend my wedding feast! I welcome your presence wholeheartedly. But I suggest you give up the idea of convincing me to return."
With that, Wukong turned and left, leaving his bewildered master and fellow disciples standing in place. After walking a short distance, he surreptitiously looked back to gauge their reactions, only to find that Tripitaka was whispering something to his disciples before unexpectedly heading in Wukong's direction. A sense of unease swept over Wukong, and he hastened his pace. However, the monk matched his speed and started running after him. The two of them, one after the other, arrived at a small grove at the foot of the mountain. Finally, unable to bear it, Wukong halted his steps and turned around, shouting at Tripitaka:
"Enough already! Why are you still following me?"
Tripitaka was clearly tired; he didn't respond to the question immediately. Instead, he stood there panting, leaning on his staff. A rush of guilt swept over Wukong, but he resisted the urge to apologize and forced himself to stand still, coldly watching his master. Tripitaka coughed lightly, then straightened up and said, "Wukong, what’s all the hurry? I only wanted to ask you one thing. Where are you planning to hold the wedding banquet? You’re my disciple, I certainly will attend."
Wukong didn't expect such reply. A hint of anxiety crept into his mind. He furrowed his brow, hoping to quickly get Tripitaka to give up on him. "Master, I remember you once said that a single thought can lead to endless evil. I've long abandoned thoughts of Buddhist teachings and enlightenment. I just want to be carefree as a demon. You’re the Holy Sage, so why waste time with me? Even if you're willing to stay and attend my wedding feast and be my groomsman, could you possibly stay to help me raise children in the future?"
"Why can’t I?" Tripitaka replied with a smile on his face.
“You’re out of your mind.” Wukong raised his eyes in despair, letting his gaze wander. He hesitated about whether to reveal his hidden affection for Tripitaka at this moment, exposing his true feelings and scaring him away. The timing was perfect, yet also terrible. Wukong fell silent for a few seconds, then sighed as if he had made a decision. He walked heavily to Tripitaka’s side, his facial muscles trembling slightly from the forced smile, and his voice tinged with an unnoticeable unease. "What if... what if I told you that you were the one I truly love? How would you react to that?"
"Oh, is that so?" Tripitaka's smile didn't waver in the slightest, and his tone remained as gentle and steadfast as ever. "I didn't notice at all. Then tell me, when did you start having such feelings for me?"
He still thinks I'm messing with him. Wukong's thoughts were in turmoil, and his frustration choked him like a piece of thick mud.
It took him quite a while to find his voice again, as he met Tripitaka’s gaze and slowly spoke: "Master, do you remember the trial with Red Son? I was burned back to my original form by his Samadhi fire and was so close to death. You held me in your arms, praying to Bodhisattva to save me. You even agreed to give up twenty years of life for me. That was the first time..."
"How did you know about this?"
"Wujing told me. If he hadn't, you would have kept this hidden forever." Wukong paused a second, then continued: "Perhaps my fondness for you started at that very moment, and it continued to grow when you broke the precept to shield me from Bajie and Wujing’s criticisms, when I fell ill and you cooked porridge for me. Master, you've always cared for me, how could I not develop affection for you? You..."
Wukong poured out his heart, revealing his secret that had remained concealed for over a decade. His tone unknowingly turned serious. He cautiously looked up at Tripitaka’s expression, only to find that the smile on Tripitaka’s face gradually fade, replaced by a deep seriousness and a barely concealed astonishment.
Mocking himself inwardly, Wukong adopted the nonchalant tone he used before. "Master, you've done so much for me. Now, you're even willing to forsake your path to Buddhahood for my sake. Could it be that you also harbor deep affection for me? How about this—we give up our monastic lives and get married?"
Tripitaka didn't respond, his brow furrowing tightly. He is finally angry, Wukong thought, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. This is for the best—let him be mad at me, disappointed in me, and then he could continue on his righteous path to enlightenment.
"Wukong," Tripitaka’s voice brought his thoughts back. "Do you remember the night when you asked Bajie about love? Do you remember how I answered you? The sentient beings are entangled by desires, ensnared in the illusion of affection. People become lost in “love,” trapped in the abyss of suffering. Our purpose of the pilgrimage is to help people find joy through liberation from suffering. If you're also trapped by love and desire, then you should go to the Thunderclap Monastery with me to seek the Mahayana sutras, not only for the salvation of the living beings, but also for the salvation of yourself."
His master possessed an almost foolish innocence, stubbornly believing that bringing Wukong back onto the right path would liberate him from his affections. An unexplainable frustration surged within Wukong. He was annoyed by Tripitaka’s persistence, but even more by his apparent detachment from the situation. "I don't understand, Master. If you are genuinely free from desires, then what is this sentiment that made you turn back for me? Is it the 'universal love' and 'immeasurable mind of equanimity' you often speak of? If you truly have the immeasurable mind of equanimity, would you be willing to turn back for anyone, no matter who it is?"
Wukong's questioning seemed almost irrational, as if driven by an impulse of proving something. His intention went beyond mere provocation; he yearned for a response from his master. But how could he not know the answer? Avalokitesvara had relinquished her chance of becoming a Buddha to help an unfamiliar old woman. Tripitaka’s foolishness was no less than that. Regret consumed him for posing the question, for he dreaded the possibility of hearing an affirmative "yes."
Tripitaka lowered his eyelids, seemingly hesitating about whether to speak. A brief silence enveloped this small grove, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.
"Wukong, I am just an ordinary mortal, unable to transcend the secular desires," Tripitaka finally broke the silence. Unexpectedly, he didn't provide a simple “yes or no” response to Wukong's query. "I also have my preferences, aversions, and my personal inclinations. You're correct, if I had truly attained the ultimate enlightenment, I should have viewed all beings impartially, devoid of any personal biases. However, I failed to do that. Regarding your question, perhaps I might have turned back for someone else too, but I wouldn't have been consumed by the same restlessness and concern for anyone else’s matter as I am for you."
"I have told you once that you are my best disciple," Tripitaka sighed, "That was true. Even now, I firmly believe that you are my favorite disciple, Wukong. I do have feelings for you."
My master have feelings for me—Wukong's body tingled from these few words. His vision became hazy, replaced by an overwhelming ecstasy. He didn't even know what kind of feeling his master held for him, but as long as that seed existed, it might flourish into the “love” he had yearned for. Maybe he just needed to exert a little more pressure on his master…
"However, Wukong," Tripitaka’s words interrupted his thoughts. "The Buddha has taught us, 'contemplate the mind as impermanent’. The phenomena of the mind emerge and dissipate with every thought, moment by moment. How can you cling to it as something unchanging and everlasting? The living beings mistake the 'mind' for an unchanging entity across life and death, thereby falling into the trap of love and desire. Wukong, my mind is the same. So I don't want you to suffer the same way."
"If the love is mutual, then I won't suffer," Wukong hastily interjected. "Master, I don't want to worry about those troublesome matters in the future. I only seek present happiness. If you can reciprocate my affections, you will immediately rescue me from this abyss of suffering."
The master shook his head. "That's not true liberation. If you're ensnared by momentary pleasures and can't break free from illusions, you won't attain nirvana. Listen to me, Wukong, let’s journey to the Vulture Peak together. Don't clutch onto transient pleasures, you must understand that all dharmas have the nature of emptiness. Your feelings for me, and my feelings for you, are just like fleeting mirage, unreal and ephemeral."
Wukong understood that Tripitaka was resolute in putting an end to his attachments. At the end of the day, they were not of the same mindset. Tripitaka clearly comprehended that love and desire inevitably led to suffering, he had the ability to suppress his emotions at their root. While Wukong was different, he was far from being as insightful as his master, making him the more pitiable one. Tripitaka’s admonition didn't bring him calm; it only intensified his resentment.
Wukong gazed at Tripitaka, and with a touch of irony, he replied, "Master, your persistence in guiding me back onto the right path is truly remarkable. Considering Buddha himself could feed his flesh to an eagle, I assume your spirit of sacrifice is no less. If you’re genuinely so eager for me to come back to you, can you show me your determination? Show me to what extent you're willing to go for your wayward disciple."
"If you, Tripitaka, are willing to reciprocate my feelings tonight and break the precept for me once again, I'll obediently admit my mistake and return to your side. But if you're unwilling to do so, then I implore you to leave now, sparing me futile exhaustion." Wukong blurted out these words defiantly, feeling drained as soon as he finished speaking, as if this outpouring of words had siphoned off his courage and strength. Only now did his rationality return to his mind, but spoken words could not be taken back, he could only stand helplessly in place, awaiting either his master’s scolding or departure that was sure to come.
Silence reclaimed the grove, and Wukong could almost hear the thumping of his own heart. He didn't want to know how ridiculous he must appear now. In fact, he sincerely hoped that Tripitaka would leave quickly, sparing him any further embarrassment. However, Tripitaka didn't leave. He lingered in silence for a few fleeting seconds, then gradually approached Wukong, his movements slow and careful, until their lips met in a gentle, tender kiss.
Now Wukong could truly hear his own heartbeat, reverberating in his ears like thunder. What was it that was blurring his vision? It was akin to lightning, luminously white and radiant, akin to dewdrops reflecting dazzling light. One second, two seconds, three seconds—then Tripitaka pulled away. Moonlight filtered through the sparse branches, casting a glow on Tripitaka’s white robe, making him look like an impeccable piece of white jade.
"Wukong, tell me, what should I do next?" Tripitaka asked with a slightly embarrassed smile. Yet his voice remained compassionate and steadfast, as if the previous kiss has nothing to do with affection or desire at all. It was a kiss that stemmed from a Buddha's heart, a heart unwavering in its commitment to the salvation of sentient beings. Wukong was one of those being, and Tripitaka was attempting to save him through that kiss.
What have I done?
After the thunder's roar and lightning's flash came a deathly silence in the night sky. The dewdrops had also evaporated, leaving behind dull, lifeless stains. It was only now that Wukong realized something. He should have realized it when he saw Tripitaka embarking on the path of return. He, Sun Wukong, was the flaw on that impeccable piece of jade, the ink stain on that pristine sheet of paper. Overwhelming guilt swept over him, and his very essence crumbled under such weight. He had been way too engrossed in his own love-induced suffering, unknowingly transforming it into a nonsensical, ludicrous trial for his master. Now, this absurd entry was added to the ledger of Tripitaka’s eighty-one trials, like an intrusive ink blot on a piece of paper, and all of this should never have happened.
"Master, I’m sorry." He knelt on the ground under Tripitaka’s gaze, summoning his final reserves of strength to suppress the bitter and turbot emotions surging within him.