"Yes, I just came out."

Sun Wukong chuckled and said, "Old man, please open the door quickly and let my master stay for a night."

"Master and disciple?" The old man then noticed that next to the monkey stood a handsome monk wearing a bright robe.

This monk looks very young, with fair and smooth skin, but from his eyes which have a slightly weathered look, he looks like an older wise man. The two combined make it hard to guess his real age.

"Elder, please come in."

After all, it is a country that strongly supports Buddhism. When the old man saw Chu Qi, he immediately opened his mouth and respectfully invited her to come in.

"Excuse me, old man."

Chu Qi showed a compassionate smile: "I have been traveling for a long time, and my stomach is empty. I am already starving. I wonder if the old man can give me a vegetarian meal."

"Of course, but my family is poor and the food is simple. I hope the elder will not despise me."

The old man waited for Tang Seng and his disciples to enter the door, then closed the gate of the courtyard again.

The white horse was carrying Tang Monk's luggage on its back and was on its way. It had just been whipped by Sun Wukong with malicious intent, so its butt was still a little painful. It walked in with a wronged look on its face. It was afraid of Sun Wukong's aura of the Horse Keeper, so it didn't even dare to act coquettishly in front of Tang Monk and could only stay away from him.

Chu Qi led the white horse to a nearby weed-covered area in the farmyard, then tied the reins to a branch. She stroked the horse's head and said, "Eat well and set off tomorrow morning."

The white horse snorted from its nose, lowered its head and began to eat grass.

On the other side, the old man hurried to the kitchen to prepare vegetarian meals for Chu Qi. Although Sun Wukong was careless and spoke irritatingly, he was essentially a good monkey. He couldn't bear to see the old man, an old guy, having to prepare vegetarian meals for his master, so he went into the kitchen to help cook.

Seeing the old man's bare house and the weeds in the yard that were taller than a person and no one was trimming them, I couldn't help but wonder:

"Old man, have you been living alone for so many years?"

"Alas, my wife passed away ten years ago. I have a son, but he became a robber, so I am all alone."

Although the old man has gray hair, he is actually not very old, about fifty years old. From this, we can infer that his son should be around thirty years old.

"Wouldn't it be easier to take care of you if I became a bandit?"

Sun Wukong sneered, washed his hands, and then washed the vegetables that the old man had just picked.

Even though he was pinned under the Five Finger Mountain for five hundred years and could not move, when he first became a disciple of Patriarch Bodhi, he actually lived in the Lingtai Fangcun Mountain for twenty years.

At that time, he had not yet started fasting and had to be self-sufficient in food and drink, so he developed mediocre cooking skills.

Small things like washing vegetables are easy to do.

After washing the vegetables, Sun Wukong looked at the old man chopping vegetables tremblingly and couldn't help but hold his forehead and said:

"Old man, go and have a rest. I'll cook."

*

After dinner, it was completely dark.

The clothes that Sun Wukong wore were made of tiger skin he had hunted along the way.

It was loose on Wukong, making him look quite funny.

Chu Qi kept repeating to Wukong not to kill, while holding out her hand and saying:

"Wukong, give me your tiger skin so I can sew a skirt for you."

Sun Wukong was originally listening impatiently, but when he suddenly heard about sewing a skirt, he couldn't help but be stunned. He thought to himself, "Didn't you, a monk, say that killing is bad? Why are you helping me sew tiger skin?"

He opened his mouth but didn't ask.

He felt a warm current flowing through his heart. He didn't know why he felt warm inside. He took off the tiger skin skirt he had casually put on and handed it to Chu Qi.

He said sarcastically:

"Master, you have to sew it nicely. If it's too ugly, I won't wear it."

Chu Qi glanced at him and sneered, "Can it be uglier than this?"

Sun Wukong was stunned. He didn't expect that Tang Seng, who seemed to have a soft temper, would actually stab people.

This is not consistent with the etiquette and morality that Tang Seng talks about.

He scratched his head and smoothly changed the subject, "Master, take your time sewing. I'll go out for some fresh air."

Kerosene lamps were lit in the room and some mosquito-repellent herbs were placed.

Under the dim light, Chu Qi was sewing the skirt very carefully, stitch by stitch, without even raising her head.

"It's so dark, are you going out to feed the mosquitoes?"

When the window was opened, the monkey was hanging on the window unruly and laughing, "I am different from my master in that I have mortal flesh and delicate skin. Even if I let the mosquitoes bite me, they can't bite even a bit of my skin."

It was probably late autumn now, and the night wind was quite strong, blowing in a little, causing the candle flame to flicker.

Chu Qi glared and said angrily:

"Close the window quickly, don't let the wind blow out the candle."

Sun Wukong tilted his body, with his tail, which was almost as long as his body, hanging on the top of the window. He hooked his toes on the eaves and leaned his whole body out. Then he pushed his palms forward, and with a "yeah", he closed the window.

Unable to enjoy the breeze and appreciate the process of making his tiger skin skirt, Wukong felt a little bored, so he flew to the roof, sat on it and looked up at the moon.

The moon was exceptionally round tonight, and he saw two silhouettes swaying on the moon. He guessed that it was Chang'e and the Jade Rabbit playing.

He had seen Chang'e many years ago, at a banquet that was held once every three thousand years. When he made a scene in the Heavenly Palace and frightened the old emperor into crawling under the table, Chang'e was surrounded by a group of dancing sisters, staggering away with a pale face.

I wonder how the children in Huaguo Mountain are doing?

In the past five hundred years, have you been bullied by other monsters?

I think about all sorts of random things in my mind, my imagination is totally divergent.

Sun Wukong put his hands behind his back, rested his head on them, and pricked up his ears to listen to the movements below the house.

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