They spoke of crossing the Flaming Mountains, where the very earth seethed with unbearable heat, the air thick with smoke and fumes, resembling a massive furnace.

To traverse the peaks, one had to walk only after a rainfall, maintaining absolute focus, treading lightly and slowly.

Should one carelessly brush against the rock face, flames would erupt and scorch.

They then passed the Flowing Sands River, in the midst of which rose a Crystal Mountain, its sheer cliffs plunging straight into the heavens, glittering brilliantly on all sides.

Next, they encountered a narrow pass, so constricted that only a single cart could squeeze through.

This defile was guarded by two dragons, their jaws locked in an eternal intertwinement.

To gain passage, one had to first pay respects to the dragons, and only when they consented would their jaws open.

The dragons were snow-white, their scales as translucent as cut crystal.

The monks recounted that their journey had spanned eighteen years of freezing winters and burning summers; of the original twelve who set out, only two remained upon reaching the Middle Kingdom.

In the West, it was rumored that the Middle Kingdom possessed Four Great Sacred Mountains: Mount Tai, Mount Hua, Mount Wutai, and Mount Luojia (Putuoshan).

The lore held that these mountains were paved with gold, and that Guanyin and Manjusri resided upon their summits.

It was believed that reaching these Four Great Mountains would transform a pilgrim into a Buddha, granting them eternal life.

Listening to their words, one realized that the reverence foreigners held for the Middle Kingdom was no different from the reverence the common folk held for the Western Lands.

If a traveler from the West and a pilgrim from the East were to meet halfway, each recounting the wonders of their homeland, they would surely exchange knowing glances and smile, instantly losing the ambition for any further thousand-mile trek.