A Secret Journey ( Wukong X Sanzang )

Chapter 6: The Not-So Great Sage

In the midst of this chilly, lonesome night, Wukong paced restlessly around an ancient, gnarled tree, his impatience searing evidently. Pigsy and Sandy finally scurried back, panting.

"About time! So, is that brat done with his sob fest?" Wukong quizzed, arms folded.

"He's still a crying mess– you really hit where it hurts, you know," rasped the fishy fiend, casting a downward glance at the 4-foot ape.

"Oh, spare me," Wukong scoffed, his tone oozing indifference. "He's not the victim here! It's us who've been enduring his nitpicking, day in and day out- This should be considered animal abuse! We should ditch this time-sucking adventure and head back home." He threw his arms up, ready to throw in the towel and reclaim his throne atop Flower Fruit Mountain.

The pig, struggling to hold back laughter, teased, "You don't actually mean that, do you?"

"What the hell do you mean, you fatass? Asking for a good beating?" Wukong's tone dipped dangerously.

"I know you fancy him, Big Brother..." Pigsy's whispered, carrying an air of secrecy.

Wukong's eyes widened, realizing that Pigsy knew something he shouldn't. Swiftly, he yanked Pigsy behind the tree, ensuring Sandy couldn't eavesdrop on their conversation.

The furious primate pressed Pigsy against the rugged bark, claws biting into his attire. "Tell me what you know this instant, perv!" he demanded.

"Perv? I'm not the one slipping into the bushes at night for a quick wank and then turning into a whining dog for a Buddhist monk."

Wukong's face turned as red as a ripened Sichuan chili, matching the color of his exposed act. He had always been cautious, ensuring his 'self-soothing moments' were concealed from prying eyes. He rarely let his guard down this much!

"If you dare breathe a word about this, I'll make dim sum out of you for the local gods," he snarled.

"Relax! I wouldn't dare jeopardize your oh-so-manly title as the 'Great Sage Equal to Heaven," Pigsy retorted mockingly.

"Plus, I want to help you mend things with Master."

Suspicion arched Wukong's eyebrow at Pigsy's uncharacteristic generosity. This swine usually wallowed in drama, whether he caused it or not. Throughout their journey, Pigsy had often prodded him and Sanzang, trying to ignite friction between the two. This sudden helpfulness was baffling.

"What's in it for you?" Monkey probed.

"Ouch, that stings. I genuinely want to help! And I don't enjoy seeing Sanzang crying, alright? Just because I was Marshal Tian Peng, the ladies' magnet, doesn't mean I never had a spat with a gal. It's about reconciling, Big Brother! Trust me, this can be fixed."

Surprisingly, Pigsy sounded sincere for once. Wukong sighed, releasing his grip on the pig, who tumbled to the ground.

"Fine, Yue Lao, what's your 'fix' then?" Wukong scoffed, not fully buying into Pigsy's antics.

"Sanzang's a bit of a... pansy... , so I'll apply my tactics for appeasing women. Give him something he likes! Maybe some flowers or snacks, and deliver a heartfelt apology."

"That's it?"

"Life doesn't always have to be a puzzle, Big Brother," Pigsy patted Wukong on the shoulder and strolled past him.

"Who knows, you might even get 'lucky' with him," Pigsy whispered by Wukong's ear, turning his complexion a shade of instant pink.

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Now, the light brown macaque stood before the tent, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a basket of fruits in the other. He couldn't shake off the blush. Embarrassment crawled up his spine at the thought of going through with this. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven appeasing a mere human teen? It felt undignified. Nevertheless, he swallowed his pride, a rare occurrence, and admitted his faults for the first time in his 800 years.

"Hey, Master, it's me," he announced.

There was a moment's pause before Sanzang's face peeked out of the tent, locking eyes with his impulsive disciple.

"What is it? Go away..." a strained voice emerged from the monk. The night's darkness was broken by the faint gleam of moonlight, enough for Wukong to spot his master's rosy cheeks and swollen, teary eyes. Clearly, Sanzang had been weeping for some time, and that hurt Wukong's usual stone heart.

"I..." Suddenly, words deserted him. All he had said before was... far from the truth. He cared deeply for his monk, more than any other being. In fact, he loved him, though he knew Sanzang probably didn't feel the same way for a reformed immortal. But that was okay; he cherished their teacher-student relationship. He loved hearing Sanzang passionately recite scriptures and basked in the approval he received when he did something 'right'. Sanzang was his duty, his promise to Guanyin, to protect him until they reached Thunderclap Mountain and met Buddha. He would do anything for his master. But how could he convey all this without making things awkward? Did he even need to explain?

"I apologize, Master. I didn't mean to lash out," the flustered monkey murmured, holding up the apology-gifts. He wondered how ridiculous he looked at that moment. Fearless in the face of demons and deities, yet trembling at the thought of Sanzang's rejection. His tail twitched anxiously and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see any emotions that might cross the teenager's face.

Then, he felt the gentleness of Sanzang's fingers running through his hair. Slowly, he looked up to see a soft smile.

"Wukong... you didn't have to bring anything," Sanzang sniffled.

"I-I insist, Master! My outburst was uncalled for," he replied, the tip of his tail betraying his inner excitement with a subtle wag. He even emitted a soft purr as he nuzzled gently against Sanzang's warm hand.

Sanzang pulled his hand away (much to Wukong's dismay), raising the flowers Wukong had gathered.

The assortment was a burst of colors— yellow, pink, blue, white— a stunning array of nature's beauty. Sanzang's brought the bouquet to his nose, inhaling the fragrant perfume. He'd always cherished flowers, sometimes even penning down little poems for the particularly lovely ones he encountered.

"These are beautiful, Wukong," he smiled, admiring each petal's intricate detail. "You should come inside; it's cold out here."

With a nod, Wukong let out a sigh of relief and followed Sanzang into the tent, setting the basket of fruits aside.

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Wukong laid down on a sleeping mat next to Sanzang.

"Did... did you mean what you said? That you didn't care about me and found this journey a nuisance?" Sanzang suddenly broke the silence.

"What? No, of course not, Master... I was angry and spewed foolish nonsense," he murmured, placing a paw on Sanzang's shoulder.

"I care about you deeply, Master... I'd endure any and all pain for you."

Sanzang blushed at the tender comment. He never expected such sweet words from the simian. With a relieved sigh, he closed his eyes and settled in for the night.