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The Pavilion stood with its intricately carved beams and golden splendor, exuding a scent of cosmetics that almost knocked him off his feet. Upstairs, Tang Seng sat across from the Little Moon King, a green teapot and two exquisite Han-style tea cups placed before them, clearly having just enjoyed some fragrant tea.
What was even more infuriating was that Wu Kong's keen ears and sharp eyes revealed that three women were seated around Tang Seng: one named Ge Qiang Hua, another called Mo Tan Lang, and the last, whose name was not mentioned, was elegantly turned away. They were all blind, yet their skin was as fair as snow, smooth and delicate, cradling pipa instruments in their arms, evidently there to perform and entertain.
The Wanderer cursed inwardly: "You hypocritical Tang Seng! You appear so virtuous on the surface but indulge in pleasures behind closed doors. What a deceitful fellow! And these singing girls are all so uniquely beautiful—it's hard to tell if it's the Little Moon King's twisted taste or Tang Seng's."
He then heard the Little Moon King lazily ask, "Ge Qiang Hua, how many songs can you sing?"
A girl replied sweetly, "Your Highness, singing is like drinking water; one knows best whether it's warm or cold. There are many songs I can sing, but I wonder which one Master Chen would like to hear?"
The Little Moon King turned to Tang Seng and flatteringly said, "Master Chen is well-versed in many things; you should choose."
Ge Qiang Hua pondered for a moment before saying, "Let’s skip the old songs and try something new. How about 'Yu Tang Nuan Hua,' 'The Grievance of Empress Wu,' or 'Journey to the West'? I wonder if Master Chen has any interest?"
Upon hearing this, the Little Moon King immediately became excited and eagerly exclaimed, "Let's sing 'Journey to the West'! Yes, let's sing that!"
The Wanderer listened intently from afar, his anger boiling: "You audacious Little Moon King! How dare you concoct tales of my master and his disciples' journey to the Western Paradise!"
The girl responded with a nod and began to play the pipa, her voice rising as she sang:
"Do not let the music drown out the painted hall,
In my twilight years, I first believed in dreams.
Now I secretly make an appointment with my heart,
Quietly facing the incense in this high chamber."
With a strum of her pipa, Ge Qiang Hua played 'Twenty-Seven Lamenting Pipa Melodies,' her sound weeping like a lament. She sang:
"When did the Emperor open the stars?
Did the Nine Luminaries and Five Capitals establish heaven and earth?
Shooting suns seeking traces of past ages,
Fish clouds and pearl rain take on myriad forms."
The House of Wuhuai bore silver bamboos, strange in joint;
Heavenly King, the fragrant leaves are condensed.
The heart of dragons and snakes paints on azure boards,
Birds and rabbits hang jade ice with floral scripts.
Mountain inscriptions and stone characters cease to speak,
Old men on the road take their time to discuss.
Jade sinks into the Western Sea, a tapestry of flowers,
In the courtyard of treasures, one admires the loyal ministers.
Xu You escapes from the emperor's dragon robe,
Offering mountains and rivers to Lord Shun.
Fourteen years, the bell stones change;
Elder Dongting holds the people in his hands.
Once in the mulberry forest, Cheng Tang bowed,
Tears fell like pearls from the sleeves of the deer platform.
Rain flags and wind axes open a clear boundary,
On the hook and mound, Wu Zhou remains.
Spring and Autumn wish to mourn King Wu's stone;
Warring States lament for those who grind their hairpins.
The brave men of Yan wear white robes,
The crown prince's ambitions soar high in the heavens.
Each sound of construction changes like feathers exchanged,
The flying clouds over Yishui rise in layers.
To picture Qin is to die for the Six Nations;
To go to Qin is to claim imperial titles and inscribe tablets.
Who hears of the three generations of Qin Emperor,
As mermaids extinguish candles in the eastern sea at dusk?
Beauty sings songs of gallant steeds with sorrow;
After conquering mountains, one weeps for the autumn wind.
With intention, the Four Haos sit in empty mountains,
Unburdened by companions like Zhang Lang beside Red Pine.
Zhen Ren, Yun Qi, Three Thousand Zhang;
The Five Mountains call for a spring that lasts ten thousand years.
Cao Huang's trees fall with Precelestial Numbers;
Dong Jian and Cao Dao cut through golden dawns with their blades.
The Emperor of the Tang Dynasty ruled for six generations, weaving patterns of frost and jade into a tapestry of ice.
As the fortunes of the realm dwindled, the emperor met his demise, forcing forth the illustrious Tang Taizong.
Family matters are difficult for outsiders to probe; do not emulate poets who mock with their verses.
Only for the days of old when beacons blazed, did the peach blossoms in March illuminate the jade steed.
The full moon hovered before the horse, casting shadows on the bow; stars in the sky merged into the sword's rainbow.
The indifferent elder mourns for jade and stone, while the dragon master pays no heed to the pain of the soul from Xiang.
One night, the sandstorm buried vengeful spirits; year after year, tears are offered in the valleys:
Each lament only curses the Tang Emperor, indifferent to your new plum blossoms in the royal garden!
After court adjourned, the Tang Emperor wandered in the imperial garden, drinking wine and admiring flowers, until he unknowingly fell asleep. In his dream, he found himself in a haze, suddenly encountering a Dragon King clad in golden armor, his hair and beard flowing wildly as he rushed towards the Tang Emperor, crying out: “Tang Emperor! Save my life! Save my life!” Startled and shaken, the Tang Emperor watched as the Dragon King vanished without a trace, leaving only echoes of “save my life” ringing in his ears, sending chills down his spine.
Then he heard the sound of a pipa, weeping and lamenting. Upon closer listening, it was a melody he had never heard before—heartbreaking and sorrowful, it pierced through him. It was a piece titled "Weeping Moon Pipa Tune," with lyrics drifting like leaves:
In the palace, the emperor's heart stirred like a rushing river as a gold medal was sent to summon ministers:
Hurry to execute the Dragon Messenger; both black and white generals have their schemes.
The king's words are now turned upside down; butterflies flutter to slay the old dragon.
How could the Dragon King pass without a head? The bright moon disturbs the palace gates.
Reluctant to ride out on his dragon steed, within the palace, the sovereign seeks a physician.
Ghosts arrive five days after the Heavenly King departs; nine realms stand solemnly before ancient souls.
Cheating officials manipulate sun and moon; jade chimes resound with clarity.
Life and death turn over for the Tang Emperor as he gazes back at mountains and rivers from days gone by.
The Heavenly King sings sorrowful verses; in this world for a hundred years, one feels like a floating insect.
When will those in dark wells cross over? Please invite Xuanzang to speak.
Golden bells and jade chimes call out in confusion; ink sleeves and black flags chant for rebirth.
The Great Sage appeared to deliver teachings, creating a path to the West as the Holy Monk.
In the realm of China, the former monk rode swiftly, while the tiger's den mourned the fate of humanity. At Shuangcha Ridge, he overturned the sacred texts, and at Wuxing Mountain, he gathered disciples. The stone gorge's yellow dragon swallowed the purple deer, while the fragrant forest's white walls transformed into Red Phosphorus.
The wind blew through the fiery eyes, and the Western Route seemed distant; Lingji flew in, facing countless hardships. The wise monkey occupied Kui Yao, carrying a pig to pay respects to the Old Monk. As dusk fell over the shifting sands, mixed knowledge returned to pure enlightenment.
The fish and pig were ultimately Pool Creatures, slowly replacing the clear zither with the morning bell. The Ren Shen Tree lamented as the apes cried out, while the White Bone Lady stood amidst lush forests.
The golden public figure departed, leaving monks to become tigers; just as the cow mourned for the Second Person. The lotus hung in Lotus Cave through the long night, and before Su Lu Mountain, they bowed to the God of Longevity.
Tang Seng danced wildly in the fierce wind, while the Imperial Brother sank into dark waters. There was no need for frequent battles between Daoism and Buddhism; both blood and darkness were equally empty.
Gold could not invigorate the spirit; Shui Shui encountered an elder in despair. In Two Hearts, heaven and earth were dark; a pair of Monkey Sages deceived Guanyin.
Banana trees extinguished fires on the hillside, while green willows led horses away on their journey. Within Ten Thousand Mirrors Pavilion, time passed slowly day and night; unaware of which day they would meet the Heavenly Venerable!
The sound of the pipa sliced through like a Blade Edge, coming to an abrupt stop. Ge Qiang Hua set down her pipa with a soft sigh, seemingly lamenting the impermanence of fate as she turned and vanished into the night. Only a lingering fragrance remained, mingling with an inescapable sadness that slowly drifted through the air.
Sun Wukong squatted by Mountain Hollow, scratching his head in frustration; those three characters "Ten Thousand Mirrors Pavilion" felt like a stone stirring up waves in his heart. "How did Lao Sun's encounter yesterday turn into a song? Where did this woman singing it hear it from?" He suddenly recalled that Little Moon King's strange smile and the bizarre sights within Ten Thousand Mirrors Pavilion, deepening his suspicions.
"Could that kid be behind this?" The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He sprang to his feet, his Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils nearly bursting with flames. "I, Old Sun, must see what tricks this Little Moon King is playing!" He clenched Ruyi Jingu Bang tightly, his teeth grinding together as he longed to seize that Little Moon King and demand clear answers!
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