Everyone in the world knows me, the holy monk of the Tang Dynasty, Master Xuanzang.
They said that I was determined and willing to travel hundreds of thousands of miles to seek the true scriptures. They say that I am compassionate and can save stubborn demons and convert bloodthirsty demon kings. My name was written on the customs clearance document given by the emperor, and was also engraved in the prayers of believers.
But no one knows that under my cassock, there is a mortal heart that trembles day and night.
This diary is my only confession.
Here, I am not a holy monk, just Chen Xuanzang. A mortal who will be frightened by the roar of tigers in Shuangcha Ridge, confused by the illusion of Lady White Bones, and shaken by the gentleness of the Daughter Country.
They all said that Sun Wukong is my protector and a hero who slays demons. But only I know that when I recite the tightening curse, what I see is not a restrained demon, but the reflection of my own inner fear and incompetence. I rely on his bloody killings to move forward, but I have to use Buddhism to judge his "cruelty". This hypocrisy bites my soul every night.
Zhu Bajie is the mirror of my greed, and Sha Wujing is the "enemy from the past life" that I can't get rid of. Are they my apprentices, or... The jailers who escorted me on this road of no return?
I thought the biggest disaster was the demons on the road. It wasn't until I knelt in the Lingshan Hall and faced the wordless scripture that I suddenly discovered that the real last disaster was not on the way westward, but in the smile of the Buddha.
One hundred and eight thousand miles, ninety-nine and eighty-one difficulties. Is what I seek true for saving all sentient beings, or... An answer that can convince me?
