Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Scriptures Retrieved from the Western Paradise

The crisp sound of flowing water startled Yu Lang awake. It wasn’t just the sound—he could sense the chill of the stream, its faint briny scent, even the sweetness as if tasting the water itself. His five senses were now exponentially keener than before, approaching the synesthetic realm described in the ancient texts.

Yu Lang sat up, incredulously touching his smooth abdomen. The shocking wound he’d suffered was healed, leaving his limbs and body brimming with an astonishing, unfamiliar strength.

Not far away lay a smooth boulder, upon which sprawled a creature that could only loosely be called human. Its silhouette was human, yet its back was covered in a thin layer of scales.

Yu Lang felt a trace of liquid at the corner of his mouth. Raising his arm to wipe it, he saw a smear of crimson blood. Suddenly realizing something, he waded over to the figure and shouted, “Yu Dan! Yu Dan!”

Yu Dan, now conscious but still weak, relaxed upon seeing Yu Lang full of vigor. “Brother Lang, you survived. Good. My blood wasn’t wasted after all...”

Yu Lang no longer hesitated. He bowed deeply to Yu Dan, saying, “Thank you for saving my life.” In the past, the thought of drinking human blood would have disgusted him—he’d have preferred death to such survival. But having truly faced the terror of death, all that remained in his heart was relief.

Yu Dan rallied himself. “Don’t worry, Brother Lang. The blood I lost, I’ll recover quickly. I can’t die. If anything, I wish I could taste what death is like.”

“You—you...” Yu Lang stared at the scales on Yu Dan’s body, wanting to ask something but unsure where to begin.

Yu Dan smiled faintly. “I am neither living nor dead—a creature half-dragon, half-human.”

“Half-dragon, half-human?”

“When you were dying, memories flooded back to me,” Yu Dan said sadly. “A century ago, I had a brief time of happiness, traveling with a monk named Chen Xuanzang. We wandered many places and met fascinating friends.”

Yu Lang’s eyes widened. Was this the legendary journey to the West?

“I accompanied Chen Xuanzang into the desert, where we encountered a band of formidable bandits. Their martial prowess was far beyond mine—I couldn’t protect him. Then...” Yu Dan struggled to recall, his face twisted with pain. “Then a man named Wukong appeared, wielding a black iron staff—its metal seemed the same as your short blade. Wukong was unrivaled in strength, single-handedly driving off the brigands...”

“The rest is lost to me. Even these memories are fragmented. But I remember I had to protect Chen Xuanzang—he was important to me. You carry a similar spirit, which is why, ever since you shared food with me in the prison, I’ve felt compelled to protect you, though I never understood my own weakness...”

Yu Lang listened, his heart pounding. Chen Xuanzang was real; even unofficial histories mention a foreigner named Wukong, said to have accompanied Xuanzang on his journey to fetch the scriptures. When Xuanzang returned to the Tang court and was honored by Emperor Taizong, no one spoke again of Wukong.

Suddenly, Yu Dan cried out in pain. The scales on his body withdrew beneath the skin, and he pounded the boulder in the stream.

Yu Lang dared not disturb him, instead stepping forward to help. His usually unbreakable grinding-stone blade struck the rock and left only a shallow mark.

After Yu Dan battered the boulder dozens of times, cracks began to form. The concentrated stress soon split the stone into fragments.

Clutching his head, Yu Dan seemed to be suffering immense agony. Pointing with his left hand to a passage beneath the broken stone, he said, “What you seek is inside.”

“Where are you going?” Yu Lang blocked Yu Dan, who was trying to leave. “You’re still wounded. You should rest for a few days.”

Yu Dan’s face was contorted with pain. “I can’t stay here. I must go elsewhere to finish something.”

“Must you leave?”

“I must,” Yu Dan replied firmly.

Yu Lang stepped aside, letting him pass.

Yu Dan glanced back with a smile. “Don’t worry. I can’t die. Immortality is Heaven’s punishment for me. If I ever truly die, you should rejoice for me. Until we meet again.”

Yu Lang blinked, and Yu Dan was gone.

Only the sound of water remained, as if nothing had happened. Yu Lang stood in a daze for a long time, unable to piece together the truth. Who was Yu Dan? Why was he always suffering whenever they met, as if he’d never known joy?

He stopped thinking. What must come will come; neither haste nor avoidance will change that. Let things take their course.

Where the boulder had shattered, a hole appeared. According to Yu Dan, something Yu Lang desired lay within. He recalled that all his effort had been for the place at Moonwashing Academy to undergo the cleansing of marrow and meridians—yet the source was lost, he’d been unconscious for who knew how long, and it seemed impossible to compete for first place now.

Could it be that this cave was the very place for the cleansing? Yu Lang’s heart raced. This mountain belonged to Moonwashing Academy, and the final round of the competition was set here...

He gripped his grinding-stone blade and carefully ventured deeper into the cave. The further he walked, the less light filtered in from the entrance. Despite his vastly improved vision, the winding passages made it impossible to see far.

The cave was pitch dark, his fire-starting tools lost. Yu Lang closed his eyes, advancing by tapping the blade against the rock and judging the structure by the echoes.

There were many forks and branches; even with echo location, Yu Lang still lost his way. The oppressive darkness and thin air quickly bred panic. In the blackness, he stumbled upon a corpse, which unsettled him further.

“No, Yu Dan brought me here, so this must be a path to life, not death,” Yu Lang reassured himself, calming his mind with trust in Yu Dan.

He paused, took several deep breaths, and relaxed completely. He felt a faint tug at his chest—yes, the competition used the “source” as its token, suggesting a connection between the source and the cleansing place.

He hurriedly took out his last remaining source, following that subtle pull, moving slowly in the indicated direction.

He marched on for who knew how long, growing exhausted and thirsty, even lightheaded from lack of oxygen. Just as despair was setting in—

A faint glimmer appeared in the endless darkness—the exit at last!

Summoning his last strength, Yu Lang hurried forward, finally stepping out of the cave. He collapsed to the ground, eyes half closed, greedily inhaling fresh air, grateful once more to have escaped death.