A Secret Journey ( Wukong X Sanzang )

Chapter 1: Nostalgia

The air in the thick, verdant kingdom reverberated with the sound of damp footsteps. The humidity was stifling, causing the traveler's clothes to cling desperately to their weary bodies. The symphony of katydids and birds disrupted the rainforest's silence, filling the air with a melodic cacophony. Tang Sanzang sat atop Bai Long, his faithful steed, as they treaded upon the soft carpet of grass. Sweat trickled down his brow as he tried to alleviate the heat by fanning himself with Pigsy's folding fan.

A muffled thud broke the tranquility behind them. Sun Wukong, with his keen hearing, swiftly turned around, extracting his Ruyi Jingu Bang from his ear and brandishing it toward the source of the noise, poised for yet another battle. Scanning the mist-shrouded surroundings, Wukong failed to spot any demonic threats but a rotund mass sinking into the earth— an unmistakable figure of Pigsy. The lazy pig demon's laborious journey had left his large, exposed stomach rising and falling in exhaustion. Grumbling in annoyance, Wukong approached the slothful creature and swung his weapon at his ample belly, startling Pigsy and compelling him to sit up.

"Get a move on, you lazy bastard," Wukong demanded, towering over Pigsy with an air of superiority.

"Big Brother, I really can't go on... My legs ache so badly. Can't we make camp here and rest?" Pigsy whined, casting pleading eyes at Wukong in a feeble attempt to evoke sympathy. However, this sight only fueled Wukong's growing irritation. Before he could raise his arm to strike Pigsy once again, a firm grasp enveloped his wrist. He turned his head to find his master, Tang Sanzang, staring at him with a sigh, slowly releasing his grip.

"How many times must I tell you to treat your brothers more kindly?" Sanzang lamented, his hand withdrawing from Wukong's grasp.

"Besides, Pigsy has a valid point. We are all fatigued and famished. Perhaps it'd be wise to establish a camp here and rest for the night."

Wukong rolled his eyes, perceiving everyone in the group as weak, pitiful meatbags. If he could retrieve the sacred scriptures on his own, he would have concluded this arduous journey in mere minutes. But Buddha insisted that they travel mostly on foot, accompanied by a vulnerable mortal like Sanzang, as a lesson in "patience" and "perseverance"; stupid human concepts.

"Fine. But we depart as soon as possible," Wukong huffed, acquiescing to the fainéant hog's request. And so, they pitched their tents and prepared a fire for the night.

Pigsy and Sandy set out to forage for food, as their supplies had dwindled. Meanwhile, Sanzang and Wukong walked toward a nearby waterfall to collect water for Sandy, who would use it to cook some congee. As Wukong dipped his bucket into the gentle stream, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror-like liquid. Dirty. That's how he perceived his weary, golden eyes staring back at him. His fur was matted and itchy from dirt, debris, and dried blood accumulated during epic battles and long treks. His skin, too, bore a layer of greasy oil. Viewing this image of himself, Wukong struggled to recall the last time he had enjoyed a proper, thorough bath since leaving Flower Fruit Mountain. In those days, he would bathe daily under cold waterfalls, his loyal monkey companions meticulously grooming and cleaning his fur, ensuring he looked his best. He sighed, longing for someone to dig their fingers deep into his coat, relieving him of this torturous itchiness. He yearned for the special treatment befitting royalty.

"Are you alright? Your bucket has been submerged for quite some time," Sanzang's voice snapped him back to reality. Wukong shook his head and retrieved the now full bucket of water, placing it on the ground.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought for a moment," he muttered under his breath, hoping he hadn't caused his master undue concern.

"Are you missing home, Wukong?" Sanzang's words seemed to penetrate his eldest disciple's mind. After all, they had spent the most time together and perhaps understood each other better than anyone else, including Pigsy and Sandy.