Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 172

Always Together
Diocesan Girls' Junior School, Kwok, Oi Ying - 10
“W
ell, I guess this is goodbye.” Monkey King was the one who broke the silence.
Xuanzang knew this moment would come, but he never really gave it that much
thought. Retrieving the Buddhist Scriptures was their faraway objective, and it seemed
improbable that this journey was all over. To be painfully honest, he didn’t want this moment to arrive. It
was selfish of him, but his three disciples, despite their endless bicker, had been exceptional company, and
part of him didn’t want the journey to ever end. Xuanzang knew he should be contented that he’d
achieved what no other monk had. Yet as he bade his disciples farewell, his whole body felt numb with
melancholy. The monk watched as his three disciples departed. He’d found himself staring at the ground
that Monkey King, Friar Sand and Pigsy had stood on. Xuanzang cared more for his disciples than he had
thought, and it broke his heart a little to see them go. Shaking his head in bleakness, he clambered onto the
horse and headed back to Central China.
The emperor was pleased with his success in retrieving the ancient scriptures and sent him to start translating
the old Indian language from the scriptures to Chinese right away. It was certainly tiring, but Xuanzang was
determined to help his country. It quickly became an unhealthy cycle of starvation. He rarely left his room
now, and didn’t really communicate with people anymore. He seemed to have gotten used to staying up all
night and only having a few hours of sleep each day. Despite the exhausting hours, Xuanzang would still
keep himself awake so he could continue working. His life now revolved around translating the ancient
scrolls into Chinese. It was an unhealthy lifestyle and Xuanzang knew that, but burying himself in the
scriptures also had helped him cope with the grief-stricken feelings he had after parting ways with his
disciples.
*****************
Summer had blessed the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits with green grass and beautiful flowers. The river
was filled with spring water so clear that you could see right to the bottom. Birds were singing melodiously,
their high notes seeming to reach the sky. The air smelt fresh and clean, and the sun was shining its golden
rays onto the mountain. It was a beautiful day. Yet a certain monkey felt it was oddly calm and peaceful.
This monkey missed the thrill of adventure, the satisfaction of victory and the contentment of having a goal
to reach.
Pigsy was having the time of his life. Monkey King had allowed him and Friar Sand to reside at the
Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. He was pleasantly surprised to see countless varieties of fruits, and had
wasted no time in biting down on the succulent and sweet fruits of the mountain. As much as Pigsy was
enjoying the fruit, he missed the light-hearted retorts his brothers gave and the joy of travelling. It was
something he had grown used to.
The friar dove into the water. Aside from flowers and fruits, the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits had quite
a number of springs to offer, which Friar Sand thought was immensely relaxing. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t
missed travelling, though. He liked doing things that required bravery as to challenge himself, and the
journey had given him a lot of opportunities to prove himself. Not to mention he did miss his master,
Xuanzang a little bit. He was sure the other two disciples did too. Sensing two familiar figures above him,
he resurfaced, and sure enough, Monkey King and Pigsy were looking at him. “We’re going to find
Master,” Monkey King said simply. Friar Sand had to resist the urge to chuckle. That was Monkey King,
always blunt and straightforward. Seeing that the friar gave no sign of disagreement, the other two disciples
nodded, satisfied.
***************
Xuanzang was making a lot of progress, once more delighting the emperor. He was working doubly hard,
he was determined to finish translating the ancient scriptures as fast as he could. Now Xuanzang was really
unwell; his face had turned sickly white, and yet he still wasn’t eating properly. Xuanzang was overworking,
he was nothing like the levelheaded monk that had set out on a journey to the west to retrieve the
scriptures. The monk was extremely sore and tired. His muscles ached, and his stomach had never felt
emptier. He felt like fainting. Knowing that he was ill-treating his body, Xuanzang finally gave in to the
temptation of rest, and collapsed onto the bed. It was the best sleep he had in years. He ate his meals
properly and was soon back to his old self. He wasn’t perfectly healthy, but the color had started returning