Chapter Thirty: Sun Wukong

Feng Huyuan was like a headless serpent that refused to die; whenever he recovered slightly from the backlash, he would impatiently stage a comeback to attack the dojo. That night, Teacher Yang was incensed. Her Primordial Spirit, the Third Princess, separated from her body in a flash, soaring into the clouds to seize Zhu Bajie—the entity currently possessing Feng Huyuan. After giving the pig demon a sound thrashing, she bound his limbs with the Immortal-Binding Rope, intending to drag him to the Heavenly Prison of the Divine Realm for punishment.

While she was escorting him mid-journey, a massive black cloud accompanied by a hurricane surged forward, blotting out the sky. A formidable force swept toward her. The Third Princess dodged with lightning speed, her Fiery Eyes flickering as she pierced through the dark barrier to identify the hidden enemy.

"You possess Fiery Eyes," the Third Princess snapped, "do you truly believe no one else does?"

Realizing his identity was exposed, the black clouds dissipated to reveal a malevolent-looking monkey. He bore a striking resemblance to the Sun Wukong from the 1983 television adaptation of *Journey to the West*, though in reality, the true Sun Wukong stood only about a meter tall with a slightly rounder face. He gripped a Wish-Fulfilling Golden Cudgel that shimmered with an eerie glow; it was with this weapon that he had just struck at the Princess.

Zhu Bajie had once been tasked with protecting the Tang Monk on his journey to the West, eventually achieving enlightenment and being titled the Altar Cleansing Envoy. However, because his reincarnation, Feng Huyuan, had committed atrocities in the mortal world using dark arts, he had long since been struck from the registers of the Western Lingshan. After his expulsion, he had defected directly to the Demon Realm. The Third Princess had long suspected that Zhu Bajie had connections in both the demon and monster worlds, but she had never imagined it was Sun Wukong.

Although Sun Wukong had been titled the Fighting Buddha after completing the pilgrimage, his inherent nature remained violent and impatient. To temper his spirit, Heaven had once exiled him to the mortal realm, where he inhabited the body of an elderly villager, practicing folk shamanism to accrue merit and cultivate his heart. Back when Teacher Yang and Feng Huyuan were still associated, Feng had even taken her to see this elderly shaman.

It was shocking that Sun Wukong had chosen to betray the Buddha Realm for the sake of brotherly loyalty, sacrificing the enlightenment earned over a hundred thousand miles and the merit of years spent healing the sick, all to become the bridge between Zhu Bajie and the Demon Realm.

Sun Wukong glared at the Third Princess with ferocious eyes, emitting a low, guttural growl from his throat. "Release him," he threatened.

"Impossible!" the Third Princess declared resolutely. "He has committed countless evils, and his human reincarnation, Feng Huyuan, has harmed countless people for his own gain. I will take his Primordial Spirit to face justice."

"Then don't blame me for not holding back!" Sun Wukong moved like a streak of light, closing the distance in an instant. The Golden Cudgel danced in a flurry of shadows. The Third Princess brandished the ancient Xuanyuan Sword, and for dozens of exchanges, they clashed with such intensity that the very mountains and rivers seemed to tremble. Finally, she thrust her sword into Wukong’s abdomen while simultaneously hurling a pitch-black Demon-Subduing Bead with her left hand, which struck him squarely in the nose. Blood sprayed instantly, and, reeling in agony, Sun Wukong clumsily summoned his Somersault Cloud and fled in a panic.

Sitting in the dojo after hearing Teacher Yang recount this, I asked in astonishment, "Is Sun Wukong really that weak? Doesn't *Journey to the West* say ten thousand heavenly soldiers couldn't subdue him at Flower Fruit Mountain?"

"There was never any siege by ten thousand heavenly soldiers at Flower Fruit Mountain," Teacher Xing said, twirling his prayer beads with a mocking tone. "When Sun Wukong first achieved the Dao, the Jade Emperor appointed him as the Keeper of the Heavenly Horses—a position that was not an insult at all. Given his cultivation and power, he was only fit to be a stable hand."

Teacher Yang added with a sigh, "The author of *Journey to the West* harbored resentment toward the imperial court and depicted Sun Wukong as an omnipotent force capable of defying Heaven and Earth—a boast too grand to walk back. That 1983 television series further cemented this image, making it so deeply ingrained that no one is willing to believe what the real Sun Wukong was like. In truth, the Sun Wukong who struggled against even the mounts of minor deities on the road to the West was exactly at his true level."

Perhaps it was the mention of Sun Wukong that stirred a memory from my own time in the Divine Realm. That night, I had a dream.

On Kunlun Mountain, I wore a pristine white battle robe over silver-shimmering armor, standing guard at the gates of the Kunlun Palace. A group of heavenly soldiers patrolled around the magnificent structure. My female deputy led the patrol, and as they approached, I stepped forward to remind her, "The Peach Banquet is approaching. Increase the patrols around the Peach Orchard; do not spare the effort, lest we have a repeat of the incident with Dongfang Shuo."

"Understood, Commander," she replied with a salute.

In the blink of an eye, the day of the Peach Banquet arrived. I led a squad of warriors to guard the entrance when seven fairies in colorful, flowing dresses came running toward us, their faces pale with terror. "It’s terrible! A thief has broken into the Peach Orchard!"

My heart sank. I knew this was no small matter and immediately ordered the remaining guards to secure the entrance at all costs. Then, I led a dozen elite soldiers toward the orchard. The trees were heavy with tempting peaches, and with over ten thousand trees in the vast garden, the thief was nowhere to be seen. I had no choice but to split my forces. "You go east, you head north, I will take the south..."

After searching for a while, I reached a large peach tree and heard the sound of loud chewing from above. Looking up, I saw a macaque, seemingly drunk, swaying on a branch while gnawing on a peach.

"You wretched monkey! How dare you steal the peaches! See if I don't capture you to answer to the Queen Mother!" I leaped into the tree, drawing my War-Fire Divine Blade.

Startled, the monkey threw the half-eaten peach at my face, performed a series of somersaults in the air, landed on the ground, and began stumbling toward the exit.

"Stop right there!" I whistled, and the other warriors rushed to join the chase.

Sun Wukong’s magic was not high, but his speed was impressive. Seeing him nearing the Southern Heaven Gate, the guards there, unaware of the situation but seeing him fleeing from my pursuit, prepared to intercept him.

Furious, Sun Wukong swung his cudgel at the heavenly army. "Get out of my way! Do not block my path!"

The soldiers stood their ground, forming a defensive line. Their coordination was excellent, and for a time, Wukong struggled to break through. I caught up, my blade flashing. The War-Fire Divine Blade, forged from the bones of a warlike dragon and tempered for eighty-one days in hellfire, erupted with a killing aura and roaring flames as I struck. Wukong barely managed to block with his cudgel—a relic of Yu the Great, it was no ordinary iron—with a deafening *clang*.

My strikes were like a volcanic eruption. After a hundred exchanges, Wukong was nearly disarmed, and with one final, heavy blow, I left a deep gash on his back and subdued him. I shackled him and brought him to the Queen Mother, who ordered him imprisoned under the Five Finger Mountain for five hundred years.

In my sleep, I mused: so this was the "Havoc in Heaven." The Jade Emperor hadn't even shown his face, nor had he bothered to fetch the Buddha. The whole affair hadn't even caused a ripple in the Divine Realm, nothing like the sensationalized drama on television.

Suddenly, I felt a gaze burning into me. I snapped my eyes open to see Sun Wukong clinging to the ceiling, his face covered in fur, his malicious eyes staring straight down at me.

*Damn it,* this was clearly a revenge mission.

"Yuli—" he hissed, grinding my name through his teeth.

He lunged from the ceiling, but I kicked him mid-air. Having been severely wounded by Teacher Yang, he collided with a bookshelf and collapsed, bleeding profusely.

I crossed my arms and ruthlessly shredded his facade. "Do you really think you're the Great Sage Equal to Heaven? I recall the original candidate for the pilgrimage’s muscle wasn't you. That person refused to go and even beat the Tang Monk’s original form, Golden Cicada, to a pulp. You were only chosen as a backup, and they added two more disciples because they feared you wouldn't be enough."

Coughing up blood, Wukong wheezed, "Cough... don't you dare write this in your book! I am the Fighting Buddha!"

I sneered, "Fighting Buddha? The Buddha Realm struck you from their records ages ago!"

A dazzling golden light emanated from a photo of Yang Jian on the table. Yang Jian materialized, grabbed Wukong by the scruff of his neck, and turned to me. "Yu'er, keep this monkey detained in my photograph for the night. Go find Teacher Xing first thing tomorrow morning."

With a flick of his arm, he pulled the struggling monkey into the photo, which dissolved into a streak of light. Looking closely at the picture, I saw the scene had changed: Sun Wukong was now pinned ignominiously beneath the paw of the Howling Celestial Dog.

The next morning, I contacted Teacher Xing. He stared at the photo with a sharp gaze and flicked his palm. A shrill scream erupted from the image as Wukong’s legs were bent and twisted by an invisible force.

Teacher Xing’s expression remained indifferent. "Send him to the Kunlun Mountain prison for one hundred years."

With the matter resolved, I shared my thoughts: "The image of Sun Wukong as an invincible hero is carved into the genes of every Chinese person. He has been placed on such a pedestal by the public for so long that he can never come down. He feared I would expose his true capabilities and abilities, so he sabotaged my writing. I want to ask Teacher Yang about the Dragon-Seeking Ruler."

Teacher Yang’s reply came quickly: "The Ruler indicates that Sun Wukong did indeed tamper with your work, but..." Her expression turned puzzled, as if sensing something deeper. "I have a premonition that he was acting under someone else's orders."

I shared the same suspicion. This was not merely about past grudges. I frowned, asking, "With a character as lawless as his, who would he actually obey?"

Teacher Yang pondered for a moment. "The Tang Monk?" She shook her head. "No, that doesn't fit his personality."

A flash of insight struck me. I snapped my fingers. "There is one other person he would listen to."

My eyes brightened as I pronounced the name: "Wu Cheng'en."