Journey to the West: Treasure Vase of the Great Dao

This was a red carp, incredibly good-looking, especially its pair of eyes that seemed exceptionally lively. No wonder Bearded Wang boasted about it—its appearance was truly splendid.

The Little Monk carefully cradled the fish in his arms, hurrying towards the riverbank with his little legs.

At the riverbank, after he released the fish from his embrace, he slowly exhaled a breath of relief. Mimicking his master, he slowly brought his palms together, murmuring, "Amitabha, how merciful, how merciful."

The moment the carp touched the water, it stirred ripples, poking its head out to nod at the Little Monk before vanishing from sight.

The Little Monk watched the carp swim away, then touched his own flat pocket and sighed softly. He had been planning to buy a Fire Crystal Persimmon to taste; those red, translucent persimmons looked very sweet, and he had been longing to try one for a long time.

"Are you feeling a bit of regret?" a gentle voice sounded by his ear.

Turning around, he saw a handsome man in a green robe, holding a Crystal Persimmon, watching him with a smiling face.

No matter how the Little Monk looked at this gentleman, he felt at ease, as if he was seeing a gentle breeze, the bright moon, blue sky, and white clouds, along with a sense of inexplicable familiarity that immediately endeared him.

"Amitabha, the Master said that as monks, we should harbor compassion in our hearts. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-story pagoda," the Little Monk tried to put on a serious expression, his face taking on an air of solemnity.

"Not eating the Crystal Persimmon is fine; it might not even be tasty," the Little Monk consoled himself, but he still couldn't help sneaking peeks at the persimmon in the gentleman's hand, swallowing his saliva quietly.

"Little Monk, didn't your master teach you that monks shouldn't lie?" the gentleman in the green robe said with a smile, casually handing over the Crystal Persimmon.

"Here, this is for you, young master."

"Thank you, benefactor. The Little Monk will recite more scriptures in front of the Buddha Ancestor on the benefactor's behalf, praying for all your wishes to come true," the Little Monk couldn't resist the temptation of the Crystal Persimmon, quickly speaking up to show he wasn't taking advantage without giving anything in return.

Thus, the two of them, one large and one small, sat by the banks of the Jing River, basking in the autumn sun, sucking on the Crystal Persimmons with straws of golden wheat, their faces displaying a joyous expression, their eyes nearly lost in bliss.

"Are you a school teacher, benefactor?"

"No, just a mediocre scholar."

"Oh! That's still quite impressive," the Little Monk nodded, scholars were very impressive in his mind.

"Then what about the Little Monk? I don't even know your dharma name."

"This humble monk's dharma name is Xuanzhuang, but people at the temple call me River Child."

"River Child, why do you have that name?"

"Because when Master found me, I was floating down the river, so I am called River Child."

As the two chatted by the bank of the Jing River, little did they know that a small turtle was intently listening to their conversation from under the roots of a nearby tree.

As the day gradually turned to evening, the Little Monk had to return to the mountain, so he bid farewell to the gentleman. It was then that he saw the gentleman in the green robe take out a small Jade Cicada.

The Jade Cicada was shimmering and translucent, exquisitely lifelike, carved to depict a cicada ready to spread its wings and fly, looking incredibly vivid.

"Fate has brought us together, this Jade Cicada is for you."

"It's much too valuable, this humble monk dares not accept it," the Little Monk repeatedly declined, afraid to take the Jade Cicada.

However, the gentleman in the green robe pulled the Little Monk over, placed the small Jade Cicada around his neck, and while touching his smooth little head, smiled and said, "Doesn't your Buddhism emphasize the importance of cause and effect, and the chances of fate? Now the opportunity has arrived, and the cause and effect should be fulfilled."

Having said this, he walked away without looking back, leaving only his warm voice behind, "After a long separation, when we meet again, we are both so changed, it's a pity, a lament!"

The Little Monk watched his retreating figure, feeling as though the gentleman seemed somewhat sorrowful at this moment, and his silhouette—why did it seem so familiar?

The Jade Cicada around his neck released bursts of coolness, gradually alleviating the burning sensation he had felt in his body since childhood, he touched the Jade Cicada, thinking to thank the man, only to realize that the figure in the green robe had vanished like a breeze, already lost among the crowd.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the Jing River, there existed a resplendent Dragon Palace, clear and shining, like a dazzling pearl in the dark riverbed, radiating brilliant light.

A turtle hurried into the Dragon Palace from the outside, perhaps too hastily, for it tripped and began to roll in a tumble, which ironically hastened its pace.

Soon the turtle had rolled to the feet of a person with a Dragon Head and wearing an Imperial Robe. Opening its round little eyes and feeling as if the whole world was spinning, it finally steadied its gaze and immediately recognized its sovereign.

"Great King, I've returned with the information," said the turtle with a fawning expression.

"What news? Have you discovered the identity of that monk?" The person with the Dragon Head, arrayed in the Imperial Robe, was none other than the leader of the Jing River Aquatic Tribe, the Jing River Dragon King.
Explore more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

"Rest assured, Great King, when I'm on the task, success is guaranteed. The Little Monk is named River Child, and his dharma name is Xuanzhuang," reported the turtle quickly.

"Xuanzhuang," the Jing River Dragon King murmured to himself.

"What did you say, his dharma name is Xuanzhuang!" This time, the Jing River Dragon King raised his voice, his tone filled with disbelief.

"Yes, Great King, I was hiding under the tree root, and I heard it clear as day, it's Xuanzhuang," the turtle said, as though it would have patted its own chest in guarantee if it could.

No sooner had it finished speaking than it saw its solemn sovereign hurry into the main hall. From inside, distant voices could faintly be heard.

"My little ancestor, other fathers may consent, but you absolutely must not get involved with this Xuanzhuang, absolutely not," the Dragon King's voice was filled with urgency.

"But why, Father? He is my savior, I just want to repay him. Moreover, the aura on him makes me feel so comfortable," the voice belonged to the Jing River Dragon King's most cherished youngest daughter.

"My daughter, this monk is no ordinary character, you must not get involved at all; to do so would mean entering into calamity. Not just you, even the entire Dragon Palace combined would not suffice."

Upon hearing the dharma name Xuanzhuang, the Dragon King, who oversaw the Jing River waters, felt a chill rush to his brain. This deity was not someone to be trifled with lightly; countless powerful beings across the world had their eyes on him. To these beings, he was as insignificant as an ant.

It was the largest whirlpool in the three realms at present, and to get caught in it meant one might perish without a trace.

"No, this can't go on, I must think of a solution; how else can my family and I survive?" the Jing River Dragon King murmured to himself.

His gaze passed over the layers of palaces to the children playing and frolicking inside, and a compassionate smile appeared on his face.