Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 362

Xuanzang's Quest
Kowloon Junior School, Zhuang, Ethan - 10
H
ave you ever wondered what it’s like to leave home for a long time? Xuanzang, a monk in the
early Tang Dynasty of China, left his home for so long, he almost forgot its name. He left because
he had a purpose, a spark leading him forward. He was motivated by the poor Chinese
translations of Buddhist scripture at the time, and left Chang’an hastily for the West. No-one really knows
what happened to him along the way, but here are the New Journeys to the West, documented by
Xuanzang himself.
It was a cold night, and all the Buddhist monks were gathered at a temple in the middle of Chang’an, China,
to discuss an urgent matter.
Monks were chattering amongst themselves, but the most distinct sound was the beating of the Meng’gu, or
Dream Drums, played by a Buddhist at the back of the temple.
It was like that for a long time, until a monk in the second row suddenly rose up, but wait, I knew this
monk! He was my old friend, Lao-ding! He was a dedicated Buddhist, and his passions were a fire so
powerful, he could burn up all the monks in the world (not that he’d want to, of course, as I told you
before, he was a very dedicated monk, and cared deeply for all of his friends). The temple became silent as
Lao-ding stood up and made his way to the front.
Lao-ding kept quiet as he waited for everyone to gather their surprise, and when they did, he spoke. “It is
my pleasure to be here today, with all of my fellow monks.” He said calmly. I scoffed. It was always a
pleasure for Lao-ding to be the center of attention. It was nothing unusual. The monks sitting next to me in
the third row seemed to agree as they gave each other knowing looks. Lao-ding ignored the quiet remarks
that some people were making, and he continued speaking. “Today, we have an important matter to
discuss.” Uh, yeah! I hate to break it to you, but we were all informed of that before we came here, bud! I
leaned back as Lao-ding continued, “It is about the emperor of China, Taizong." I leaned in again. This
could be interesting.
I couldn't help it. It just felt natural. I asked all my monk friends about what Lao-ding had said, but they
had just waved me off for sleeping while Lao-ding was talking. I knew it was wrong, but I thought friends
were supposed to be supportive and helpful! I sighed. Monks these days.
Five months later... (Part 2)
I had decided on it. I didn't care what the 'emperor' thought. He banned travel six years ago, but I was
determined to end this 'dark age', once and for all. The Chinese translations of Buddhist scripture were
terrible, and I had to learn the REAL Buddhist way, no matter where I have to go, or who I have to meet, I
yearned for the proper Buddhist teachings, the better Buddhist life.
I was to set off tomorrow morning for Kumul, via Gan'su and Qing'hai. Then I was to set off to Vulture
peak in India to bring back Buddhist scriptures to Chang'an, and become a real monk. I set off just as the
fiery ball we call the sun was rising up from the lush, green hills. It was a sight for sore eyes, as I had never
left Chang'an before (because of the emperor's ban). I was tempted to say, "Behold the almighty ball of fire!"
to the world, but I didn't want to wake the sleeping emperor.
I left Chang'an in a planned route, so that I could avoid all the emperor's bodyguards. I relied on pure
instinct to help me keep quiet, and I focused on the small map I had stolen from the emperor's war general
(don't ask. I have a cut on my left forearm, and I don't want to talk about it) when he wasn't looking. The
route was dangerous, but I had to do this, I had to help my fellow Buddhist monks.