Honghuang: Creation of the Green Lotus, the beginning of the Three Pure Ones

Emperor Taizong of Tang (Li Shimin) personally led his civil and military officials to see off his younger brother, the Buddhist monk Sanzang. The procession was magnificent, with banners obscuring the sun, and the streets were deserted as people lined the roads.

Tang Sanzang, wearing the brocade cassock bestowed by Guanyin and holding a nine-ringed staff, solemnly bid farewell to his elder brother with his palms together.

He mounted a gentle white horse, with two strong servants carrying simple luggage close behind.

Li Shimin said to Tang Sanzang as he mounted his horse, "My brother, your journey is long and arduous; please take good care of yourself."

"This humble monk will remember Your Majesty's teachings and will certainly not fail in your trust." Tang Sanzang's voice was calm, his eyes clear, and his expression unwavering.

Tang Sanzang glanced back at the imperial capital, which had witnessed too much prosperity and hustle and bustle, took a deep breath, and spurred his horse to turn west onto the loess official road.

One man, one horse, and two servants; their figures appear small and lonely in the cool early autumn sunlight.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the void above Chang'an, imperceptible to the naked eye, the ancient Kunlun Mirror hung silently, its surface clearly reflecting the scene of Tang Sanzang and his companions traveling westward.

"Look in the sky, there are monks. Are they holy monks on their way to the Western Paradise to retrieve Buddhist scriptures?"

“That’s Chang’an. I recognize that Ba Bridge. It’s Tang Sanzang, the imperial brother personally appointed by His Majesty.”

"..."

Countless whispers, exclamations, and prayers converged into an invisible wave that swept across the entire human territory.

An unprecedented sense of closeness has quietly taken root in the hearts of every human being through this gaze that transcends space.

……

The journey westward was relatively smooth for the first few days. Along the official road, post stations were one after another, and people were constantly coming and going.

Tang Sanzang would rise early to chant sutras, travel during the day, and find lodging in the evening. His nine-ringed staff touched the ground, and his brocade robe fluttered slightly in the autumn wind, giving him quite the air of a high-ranking monk.

Although the two servants were not skilled in martial arts, they were diligent and loyal, and served the passengers carefully throughout the journey.

On this day, the official road gradually became narrow and rugged. The mountains on both sides rose higher, and the forests changed from sparse to dense and secluded.

No more village smoke could be seen along the roadside; only the cries of birds and beasts filled the air. The air was thick with the scent of earth, decaying leaves, and some indescribable, wild aroma.

"Master, this mountain is treacherous and it may not be safe. Shall we hurry and find a sheltered place to rest?"

A servant looked around at the dark forest, his voice strained.

Tang Sanzang looked up at the sky. The sun was already setting in the west, and the golden-red afterglow pierced through the gaps in the tall tree canopy, casting long, swaying patches of light in the forest, adding to the eeriness of the place.

"Amitabha. Very well, let's hurry." He gently spurred the horse's flanks, urging the white horse to go faster.

However, just as dusk was falling and birds were returning to their nests, a fierce, foul wind suddenly swept up from the ground at the bend in the road ahead.

The wind was extremely eerie, carrying a biting chill and a strong, pungent stench of wild animals, making it impossible to open one's eyes.

The white horse was so startled that it neighed loudly and reared up, nearly throwing Sanzang off its back. The two servants also lost their balance, staggered backward, and the luggage they were carrying fell to the ground.

As the stench of blood lingered, a colossal creature stood prominently in the middle of the road ahead.

The monster was over ten feet tall, with a robust and imposing physique like a small mountain. Its entire body was covered in black and yellow striped fur like steel needles; it was none other than General Yin, the demon king who had taken up residence in this place.

A deafening tiger's roar erupted, accompanied by a violent shockwave of demonic power. The sound waves were visible to the naked eye, crashing down like tangible boulders.

Two ordinary servants were the first to be hit. Before they could even scream, the sonic waves, imbued with demonic power, caused them to bleed from all seven orifices, their internal organs shattered, and they died instantly. Their bodies were thrown out like tattered sacks, crashing into an ancient tree by the roadside before sliding softly to the ground.

Tang Sanzang felt a ringing in his ears, his blood surging, and his vision going black. If it weren't for the faint, soft Buddhist light that instantly shone from his nine-ringed staff, barely offsetting some of the impact, he probably would have followed in the footsteps of his servant.

Even so, he was shaken so badly that he tumbled off his horse and fell awkwardly into the dust.

The white horse had already been so frightened by the tiger demon's murderous aura that it collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth and unable to move.

General Yin approached with heavy steps, his enormous shadow completely enveloping Tang Sanzang, who was slumped on the ground.

The scalding, foul stench assaulted his senses, making him want to vomit. Its crimson, beastly eyes were fixed on Tang Sanzang. A flicker of greed and fear crossed its eyes, but it was quickly overwhelmed by an even more ferocious hunger.

"A delicate-skinned little monk, protected by Buddha's light? Too bad, his meager skills are not even enough to fill my teeth."

Tang Sanzang could only grip his nine-ringed staff tightly, close his eyes and chant sutras, his face ashen, large beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. The shadow of death had never been so clear and heavy.

……

In the Western Paradise, at the Great Thunderclap Temple, the Buddha sat serenely on a golden lotus, expounding the profound Dharma of Mahayana to the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Arhats below. Heavenly flowers rained down, golden lotuses sprang from the ground, and chanting filled the air—a scene of solemn peace and tranquility.

Suddenly, Guanyin Bodhisattva seemed to sense something, her delicate brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. A faint light quietly appeared in her palm, as the hidden connection with the brocade robe was violently activated. Without changing her expression, she raised her eyes and gazed into the void.

Almost simultaneously, the Buddha, seated on his lotus throne, paused slightly in his vast and boundless sermon.

Guanyin Bodhisattva softly chanted the Buddha's name, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible solemnity, "Reporting to the Buddha, the pilgrims have reached the Two Realms Mountain and encountered demons blocking their way."

"The protective seal on that brocade robe has been activated, but the demon is fierce and unruly, and it may not last long."

The Buddha's gaze pierced through endless space, his voice still grand, but now imbued with an indescribable depth.

"The journey to obtain the scriptures is inherently fraught with eighty-one tribulations. However, the human king, with the weighty instrument of humanity, has been observing the Dharma protectors of our Buddhist sect, revealing this to all beings. This is not merely observing the tribulations, but rather demonstrating his power."

Inside the main hall, all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas remained silent, all feeling the heavy pressure emanating from the East, carrying the torrent of humanity.

The journey to the West was no longer simply about the eastward transmission of Buddhism; it was a strategic maneuver placed under the watchful eyes of all the ancient races. The Buddha's silence was heavier than thunder.

……

Inside the Ganlu Hall, the atmosphere was like a volcano about to erupt. Within the massive water mirror, General Yin's frenzied attacks struck the hearts of every spectator like a heavy hammer.

The golden shield of Buddha light fluctuated violently under the demon's claws, and each dimming caused everyone's nerves to tremble.

Tang Sanzang slumped down in the center of the ever-shrinking light barrier, his face deathly pale, swaying precariously, the shadow of death almost engulfing him.

"Your Majesty, we cannot wait any longer. That demon is ferocious and the Buddha's light in the cassock will not last long. Please issue an order immediately, Your Majesty. I am willing to be the vanguard and raze this monstrous cave to the ground."

Qin Qiong suddenly stood up, the phantom of his golden mace floating beside him, drawing upon the sharp energy of Geng metal to cut through the air, his voice deep and resonant like iron.

"Your Majesty, my brother is in imminent danger. This demon has openly attacked and killed my brother, trampling on the dignity of our nation. His crime is unforgivable. I request to lead the elite Xuanjia cavalry on an immediate western expedition to wipe out his stronghold."

Cheng Yaojin jumped directly to the center of the hall, slammed his Bagua Xuanhua axe down, and the heavy axe handle struck the hard, iron-like gold bricks with a muffled thud.

His leopard-like eyes widened, and his voice boomed like a bell: "Your Majesty, what's the point of reasoning with this hairy beast? Old Cheng's axe has been itching for a fight for a long time." (End of Chapter)