Chapter 1

In the early morning, on a rugged mountain path, a young monk came riding a horse.

Holding the reins in one hand and a golden staff in the other, his wide robe flapped loudly in the wind, and the tall white horse beneath him had its mane flying.

The momentum of his gallop was like that of a brave general charging into battle.

Unlike ordinary itinerant monks, he was young, with a handsome face and sharp, piercing eyes that looked straight ahead, bold and resolute. His face showed no trace of joy or anger, unlike other monks who had kind and benevolent expressions, but he had an indescribable firm will.

"This is the Five Elements Mountain." He tightened the reins, and the white horse suddenly stopped, stomping its hooves on the spot.

His gaze began to search the mountains.

"Who's there?" In a rarely visited part of the mountain, a furry hand suddenly emerged from the grass. Pushing aside the grass, a monkey's head covered in withered grass was revealed.

"Phew."

Spitting out two blades of grass from his mouth, the monkey took a deep breath and mustered all his strength: "Disturbing my sleep! Get lost—!"

The vast mountain wilderness echoed with the monkey's roar.

"Is that you?" The monk followed the sound, urging the white horse to move forward slowly.

Soon, the monkey and the monk met.

The moment the monk saw the monkey, he smiled. The moment the monkey saw the monk, he also smiled, but it was a cold smile.

"It's you?" The monkey recognized the monk's attire and even his purpose. History always changes, yet it is surprisingly similar.

His originally lazy expression instantly turned into a cold smile: "What do you want? To make me go to the West to fetch the scriptures?"

The monk said nothing, leaning on his staff, and climbed up the slope along the pile of rocks with agile movements.

"Go back. You were the ones who imprisoned me, and you are the ones who released me. What do you mean by talking about fetching the scriptures and becoming a Buddha? Who do you think I am?" The monkey laughed coldly, baring his sharp teeth, with a hint of madness.

"Why make it so difficult? Sir, don't you want to stay here for another five hundred years?" The monk sighed but did not stop walking.

"Even if I stay here for ten thousand years, it's my own business. What does it have to do with you, you bald monk?" The monkey, with his only free hand, felt around for a stone to throw but found that after five hundred years, all the small stones around him had been thrown away out of boredom. Now he could only grab a handful of dirt.

Dirt will do! The monkey casually threw it: "Get lost!"

The dirt scattered in the air, and as it touched the monk's robe, it seemed to come to life and avoided it. This surprised the monkey, and he had to take a closer look at the monk.

About two zhang away from the monkey, the monk stopped, leaning on his staff, smiling and looking at the monkey.

"Monkey, let's talk." The monk said.

His eyes, like the moon in the upper sky, seemed to see through the human heart, making the monkey feel uneasy.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm tired and want to go back to sleep. I won't get in your way of fetching the scriptures, and you don't get in my way of sleeping. Let's leave each other alone, isn't that better?" The monkey scratched his ear and turned his head away, not looking at him.

"Don't you want freedom?" The monk asked.

"Of course I do."

"I will release you, and you will protect me on my journey to the West to fetch the scriptures, and you will be free." The monk spread his hands and said.

"Hmph! Is that freedom? Can I do anything I want?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to pierce the sky and burn the heavenly palaces to ashes with the heavenly fire!" The monkey said fiercely.

"No." The monk replied expressionlessly.

"Then that's it, right? I'm not free here, and I won't be free out there! Rather than that, I'd rather stay here and not suffer that humiliation!"

The monk sighed silently and clasped his hands: "Amitabha, I have long heard that you are a stubborn monkey, and I expected you wouldn't easily follow me to the West. Indeed, that is the case."

After saying this, the monk took large steps forward, brushed his sleeves, and sat down beside the monkey, leaning his staff against the cliff. He casually picked a wild orange from nearby, peeled it, and placed it in front of the monkey: "You have great abilities and have practiced for many years. Don't you want to be trapped here?"

Smelling the slightly sour scent of the orange, the monkey suddenly felt hungry.

He hadn't eaten fruit for decades. The last time was when a child passed by and gave him two. After eating them, he planted the seeds beside him with great anticipation.

But the soil here was unsuitable, and they never sprouted.

Last year, a fruit tree finally grew not far from him, extending a branch toward him. But the branch stopped growing!

Trees don't grow toward places without sunlight...

This made the monkey watch the orange tree flower, bear fruit, and fall to rot, only able to swallow his saliva.

Turning back, he picked up the orange, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly, then asked: "What's the point of not being content? I can do anything in heaven and earth, practice hard to seek immortality and freedom. In the end, heaven and earth can't tolerate me. What's the use of great abilities?"

I never want to step into that endless vortex again.

The monk said nothing, just smiled and looked at the monkey quietly.

Faced with an opponent who wasn't angry and was determined to persist, the monkey felt a bit discouraged. He could keep causing trouble, but no matter what, even if he struck with a thousand pounds of force, it felt like hitting the air: "So I hate bald monks the most."

"Tell me."

"Huh?"

"Here, you must be very lonely, right? Just consider me a passerby, and tell me your story. If you don't want to follow me to the West, I won't force you."

"Tell you what! What's there to tell." Before he finished speaking, the monkey saw the monk pinch his fingers and point at his forehead.

"What are you doing?" The monkey shouted.

"Since you won't say, I'll have to see for myself."

Autumn cicadas chirped, a solitary wild goose flew south in the sky, and a beetle spread its wings and leaped into the distance, leaving only the leaves swaying.

The monkey felt the scene before him gradually blur...

Eight hundred years, like a dream.