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墨書 Inktalez
The two of them walked for a while until they reached an open area. Not far ahead, they saw hundreds of young women gathered together, dressed in colorful skirts and adorned with bright flower crowns. They were playing and laughing, their joyful voices ringing out.
Upon seeing this, Tang Seng furrowed his brow slightly and said to Wu Kong, “Wu Kong, let’s take a detour. These people are different from the peonies; we should avoid trouble.”
Wu Kong followed Tang Seng's gaze and noticed that the women were all young and beautiful, exuding grace and charm. Curiosity bubbled up within him, and he asked, “Master, who are they? Why should we avoid them?”
“They are merely worldly women. As monks, we should stay away from such places of gossip and trouble,” Tang Seng replied calmly.
“Master, you always overthink things and get caught up in trivial matters! If you didn’t have these two flaws, our journey to obtain the scriptures would be much quicker,” Wu Kong said dismissively. “They are at home while we are monks; they head east while we go west. What does it matter?”
Tang Seng was momentarily speechless. He wanted to say more but was interrupted by a clear child’s voice.
“Look! Look! What is that?”
“It’s a monk! A monk riding a white horse!”
“Wow, his clothes are so strange—so colorful, like a beggar!”
Before long, eight or nine children from the group of women rushed out and surrounded Tang Seng, pointing and chattering excitedly.
Tang Seng disliked being disturbed, especially by these mischievous children. He suppressed his anger and patiently advised them, “Amitabha, dear children, I am a monk from the Eastern Tang Dynasty on my way to the Western Paradise to seek the scriptures…”
“Monk, can you give me your clothes?” a little girl with horned braids looked up at him with big eyes and asked.
“Yeah! I want one too!” the other children chimed in.
Tang Seng was momentarily at a loss for words. He couldn’t possibly say that this patched robe held great significance for him as one of the symbols of his quest for enlightenment.
“If you’re reluctant to part with it, then just tell my mother to make me one!” another boy shouted like a storyteller. “I want it in colors like apple green, heartbroken grass green, willow green, lovebird color, sunset color, swallow feather color, soy sauce color, sky blue, peach blossom color, jade color, lotus petal color, blue lotus color, silver white, fish belly white, ink color, slate gray, reed flower color, grass green, multicolored satin color, lychee color, coral color, duck head green color, palindromic pattern satin color, and longing bird feather color! If you do that, I won’t even want your ragged clothes!”
Hearing such innocent words from the children left Tang Seng both amused and exasperated. He never expected to be cornered by a group of kids in this manner one day.
Tang Seng closed his eyes as if in meditation, ignoring everything around him. Only his tightly knitted brows seemed to silently express something. Zhu Bajie lacked his master’s composure; he was still immersed in the “joy of family,” hugging one child who called him “godfather” and another who called him “wet father,” making the flower children laugh uncontrollably while being completely unaware of the impending danger.
Wukong stood by, his anger burning hotter within him. He had long found this group of brats intolerable, each one spoiled and unaware of their own insignificance! His master, with a heart full of compassion, did not wish to hold them accountable, but I, Old Sun, was not made of clay and could not endure such humiliation! With a fierce glare, the Ruyi Jingu Bang shot out from his ear with a whoosh, resembling an enraged dragon that rolled and roared in the air. "Get lost, all of you!" Wukong's furious roar echoed through the valley. The children were so frightened that they wet themselves, dropping their flower baskets and scrambling away in terror.
"Thinking of running? Too late!" Wukong, blinded by rage, did not care whether they were human or demon; he swung the Ruyi Jingu Bang wildly. Poor children, who had yet to comprehend what was happening, turned into a rain of blood that scattered with the wind. Among the peony flowers, those beautiful girls who had been laughing and playing froze in horror at this tragic scene, their faces pale as they screamed and fled in all directions.
"Where do you think you're going?" Wukong's murderous intent surged as the Ruyi Jingu Bang danced in his hands, reaping fresh lives. Those beauties had never witnessed such a scene; they cried out and pleaded for mercy but could not escape the relentless onslaught of the Ruyi Jingu Bang. In an instant, they perished, leaving behind a ground littered with fallen flowers and broken branches, silently narrating this tragedy.
Standing amidst the sea of corpses and blood, Wukong held the Ruyi Jingu Bang dripping with blood like a god of death returned from hell. As he gazed at the severed limbs scattered around him, an inexplicable sorrow surged within him. This sorrow overwhelmed him like a flood breaking its dam. He threw down the Ruyi Jingu Bang, cradled his head in his hands, knelt on the ground, and howled to the heavens: "Why has Lao Sun unleashed this slaughter again?"
Tears streamed down his face as memories flooded back to five hundred years ago when he wreaked havoc in the Heavenly Palace—what joy there was in that chaos! Had he ever opened a massacre in the Heavenly Palace?
"No! This is not what I wanted!" Wukong suddenly stood up, his eyes filled with both rage and confusion. He realized he had seemingly walked into a wrong path—a path with no way back. He could only press forward with determination, even if it led to an abyss.
"Enough! Enough!" Wukong shook his head with a bitter smile as he returned the Ruyi Jingu Bang to his ear and turned towards Tang Seng. As he walked, he contemplated how to explain everything to Tang Seng. He knew his master well; that stubborn old monk would surely recite the Tightening Spell until he suffocated if he learned that Wukong had killed so many.
He needed to do something for these innocent souls.
Looking around, he spotted a flat stone by the roadside and walked over to pick up a sharp rock to begin carving words into it.
"I will let everyone know your names; you have been here in this world!" Wukong shouted at the corpses scattered around him.
He carved slowly and forcefully as if imprinting all his anger and sorrow into this cold stone for eternity. One name after another was etched into the stone—dense and shocking.
After finishing this task, Wukong felt as if all his strength had been drained away; he collapsed onto the ground.
"Not enough... not enough..." he murmured to himself as his gaze fell upon a wooden plank nearby. He walked over, picked up a stone to use as an inkstone, broke off a plum branch for a pen, and dug up soil and mud for ink before beginning to write fervently on the plank.
He wrote an eulogy for these souls lost too soon and for himself seeking redemption.
"By decree of the Tang Emperor: The precious robe of a hundred treasures and five-bead staff is conferred upon Imperial Brother Tang Seng’s greatest disciple—the Lord of Water Curtain Cave—Great Sage Sun Wukong. I humbly offer thin wine and vegetarian food to honor these unjustly perished souls—men and women alike—and present this eulogy to console their spirits.
Alas! You were once at peace in your homes; now you are separated by realms—where is justice? Why must youth be met with such calamity?
Pity those children who should be riding bamboo horses at play; they have barely begun to enjoy life’s splendor before vanishing like March peach blossoms carried away by flowing water or like white cranes obscured by clouds in the sky—leaving only desolation behind! My heart aches for you!"
Thinking of that woman, who should have been learning the arts of womanhood in the boudoir, yet now has perished, leaving only sorrow behind! Why does youth, so vibrant, vanish like spring grass, fleeting and ephemeral? My heart aches for you!
Thinking of that child, who should have been the apple of their parents' eyes, yet now is forever separated from them, leaving only grief! Why did you not heed the teachings of the sage and honor your parents well, leading to such a fate? My heart aches for you!
Alas! Now that everything has dissipated, I am powerless to turn back time! I can only offer this eulogy for you, may you rest in peace! My heart aches for you!”
Having finished writing, he flicked his sleeves and imitated the demeanor of a scholar, shaking his head and reciting loudly. His voice was filled with sorrow, echoing across the vast fields, lingering endlessly.
Wu Kong completed the eulogy, feeling a dryness in his throat, yet his heart bore no relief. Each word on the wooden board felt like a heavy stone pressing down on him. He walked under the peony tree and was taken aback to find his master and junior brother sprawled out soundly asleep, even the White Dragon Horse snorting in its dreams. A surge of unnamed anger flared up within Wu Kong. His master’s usually transcendent appearance now seemed utterly hypocritical; even the soft snores sounded like thunderclaps in Wu Kong's ears. He grabbed a wildflower from the ground and crushed it into a ball before forcefully stuffing it into Ba Jie’s large ear, shouting, “Fool! Are you still sleeping soundly?! Do you know that those wronged souls are suffering below right now? How can you still have the face to sleep here?!”
Ba Jie was startled awake by this sudden attack. Groggily sitting up and rubbing his ear, he saw Wu Kong glaring at him and thought he was still dreaming. He mumbled, “Master, are you reciting that tightening spell again…”
Wu Kong sneered and lowered his voice, mimicking Tang Seng’s tone as he said, “I just had a dream where Guanyin Bodhisattva passed by here and specifically instructed me to expel you from the sect!”
Upon hearing this, Ba Jie instantly lost all sleepiness. He jumped up in alarm and trembled as he asked, “Why would the Bodhisattva want to drive me away? Did that scoundrel Wu Kong say something bad about me again?”
Wu Kong looked at him coldly and continued in Tang Seng’s tone with deliberate slowness, “The Bodhisattva said that you spend your days indulging in eating and sleeping without any ambition; you are unworthy to be a seeker of scriptures. She also said that your worldly ties are not yet severed and instructed you to hurry back to Gao Village so as not to waste Lady Cui Lan’s youth!”
Hearing this made Ba Jie nearly cry out of desperation. He grabbed Wu Kong’s hand and pleaded, “Brother, please save me! I have long seen through worldly desires and wish to follow Master to the Western Paradise to seek the True Scriptures and attain enlightenment! Please go tell the Bodhisattva not to drive me away!”
Wu Kong shook off his hand with a cold laugh and said, “The Bodhisattva’s words are not for us to question. You might as well give up on this quest for scriptures!”
With that, he turned away from Ba Jie’s desperate pleas and strode westward with determination. He walked with grace and resolve, leaving Ba Jie standing there alone, dazed and filled with despair as if he had yet to awaken from a dream.
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