In the early morning, on the rugged mountain road, a young monk came on horseback.

   Rolling the reins in one hand, holding the golden staff tightly in the other, the wide cassock squeaked in the wind, and the tall white horse under the crotch had flying whiskers.

   That galloping momentum is like a fierce general charging on a horse.

   Unlike ordinary wandering monks, he is young, with a handsome face, piercing eyes looking straight ahead, resolute and determined. There was no trace of joy and anger on his face, he was not as kind-hearted as other monks, but he had an indescribable determination.

   "This is the Five Elements Mountain." He tightened the reins, the white horse stopped suddenly, and stepped out of the horse's hooves.

   His eyes began to search the mountains.

   "Who?" In a rare place in the mountains in the distance, a furry hand suddenly stretched out from the grass. Pushing aside the grass, a monkey head covered with withered grass was revealed.

   "Bah."

   spit out the two weeds in his mouth, Hericium took a deep breath, and regained his strength: "Disturbing the dream! Go to Lao Tzu!"

  The echoes of the empty mountains echoed with the roar of monkeys.

   "Where?" The monk followed the voice and looked, instigating the white horse to move forward slowly.

   Soon, the monkey and the monk met.

   The moment he saw the monkey, the monk smiled. The moment he saw the monk, the monkey also laughed, but it was a sneer.

   "It's you?" The monkey already knew the identity of the other party, and even the intention of his visit, when he saw the clothes. History is always changing, and history is strikingly similar.

   The original lazy expression suddenly turned into a sneer: "What are you doing here? Let Lao Tzu go to the West to learn scriptures?"

  The monk did not speak, but with a staff, he climbed the **** step by step along the rubble, with neat hands.

"Go back. You are the ones who pressed me, and you are the ones who let me go. What are we talking about to become a Buddha? What kind of person are you like a Laozi?" Said, the monkey sneered sneeringly, with a sharp grin in his grinning mouth. Teeth, with a hint of madness.

   "What's the problem? Don't the donor want to press here for another five hundred years?" The monk sighed, but didn't stop.

"It's my own business to press ten thousand years. What's the deal with you bald donkey?" The monkey felt around with his only movable hand, trying to find a stone to throw at it, but found that it was five hundred years old. Shi has long lost all his time when he was bored to pass the time. Only a handful of dirt can be touched now.

   Soil also works! The monkey threw it out: "Get out!"

  The soil scattered in the air into a gray patch, and the moment it touched the monk's robe, it all avoided as if it had spirituality. This surprised the monkey and had to look at the monk carefully.

   About two feet away from the monkey, the monk stopped with his staff, smiled and looked at the monkey.

   "Monkey head, let's talk." The monk said.

  Shangxuan's moon-like eyes seem to be able to see through people's hearts, which makes the monkey's heart quiver.

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm sleepy, and I have to go back to make up for a sleep. I won't hinder you from studying scriptures, and you shouldn't hinder me from sleeping. It's good that everyone's well water doesn't cause river water." ears, turned his head away from him.

   "Don't you want freedom?" the monk asked.

   "Of course I do."

   "I'll let you out, and you will protect me from the West, and I will be free." The monk spread his hands and said.

   "Huh! This is freedom? Can I do whatever I want?"

   "What do you want to do?"

   "I want to pierce the sky and let the fire of the sky burn all the palaces in the sky to ashes!" The monkey said viciously.

   "No." The monk replied blankly.

   "Isn't that the end? If you are not free here, you will not be free when you go out! Instead, I might as well be here, so I don't have to suffer from that cowardice!"

   The monk sighed silently and clasped his hands together: "Anita Buddha, I heard that you are a stubborn monkey head, and I don't think it would easily follow me westward, as expected."

After speaking, the monk strode forward, brushed his sleeves and sat on the side of the monkey, leaned his staff against the foot of the cliff, picked a wild orange not far away, broke it, and placed it in front of the monkey: "You have the ability to reach the sky, and you have practiced for many years. Are you willing to be trapped here?"

   Smelling the slightly sour taste of the orange, the monkey was instantly greedy.

   He hadn't eaten fruit for decades. Last time, a child passed by and gave him two. After eating, he planted the seeds beside him with great anticipation.

  But the soil here is not suitable at all, and it just didn't germinate.

   Last year, a fruit tree began to grow not far from him, and a branch stretched out towards him. But this branch is growing, it is not growing anymore!

  Trees don't grow towards corners without much sunlight…

  This caused the monkeys to watch the oranges bloom, and as a result, they fell and rotted, but they could only swallow.

Turning around, he picked up the orange and put it in his mouth to chew carefully. The monkey asked back, "What can I do if I'm not willing? Lao Tzu is omnipotent in the world, and he works hard to seek longevity and freedom. In the end, he is in the sky. The underground can't tolerate it. What about the ability to reach the sky?"

   That endless vortex, I never want to step into it again in this life.

   The monk did not speak, but looked at the monkey quietly and smilingly.

   Faced with an opponent who is not angry and intends to stalk, the monkey is a little discouraged. He can keep splashing, but no matter what, even if he hits it with a great force, it seems to be hit in the air: "So what I hate the most is the bald donkey."

   "Tell me."

"Um?"

   "You must be very lonely here. You should be a poor monk and a passerby, and tell me about you. If you don't want to go west with me, you must not force it."

   "Speak up! There's nothing to say." Before he finished speaking, the monkey saw the monk pinched his hands and tapped it on his forehead.

   "What are you doing?" the monkey shouted.

   "If you don't tell me, the poor monk will have to see for himself."

  Autumn cicadas chirped, the lone geese flew south in the sky, and a beetle spread its wings and leaped into the distance, leaving only the swaying leaves.

  Monkey only felt that the scene in front of him was gradually blurring...

   Eight hundred years is like a dream.