Heaven-Defying Rebel Sage

When he discovered that the Journey to the West was but a fraud, and Water Curtain Cave had turned into scorched earth, everything seemed too late.

The vast land of Divine Land stretched countless miles, this wandering spirit didn't know for how long it had been drifting.

Within the Western Heaven Temple, he was reduced to ashes by a single palm strike, as if by the will of the heavens or perhaps aided by a great power working in the shadows, "subtracting one from the cycle of forty-nine." He then became that single slim chance of survival, even though this wispy spirit was so frail that a mere breeze could turn it into ashes of calamity, yet it hadn't been completely extinguished.

The spirit saw the once Water Curtain Cave, now turned into scorched earth.

The pitch-black land bore no hope.

Did pitch-black not represent despair and helplessness?

"Even Water Curtain Cave has become scorched earth? Could it be, that I am truly going to die?" he began to hold his head and weep bitterly.

As tears fell, they consumed his Spiritual Power, and his body became even more insubstantial.

"Drip, drop, drip, drop..."

The tears slowly slid down a stone and seeped into the scorched earth. His ears couldn't help but twitch lightly; he seemed to hear a sign of life within this charred soil. At that moment, he seemed to see something, that girl named Zixia, who died under Yang Jian's Three-pointed Double-edged Sword protecting Water Curtain Cave. She seemed to have left something in this scorched earth, an entity named—hope!

"I am Wukong!!!"

He suddenly raised his head, his profound eyes bursting forth with sharp, electricity-like radiance, piercing through the void.

The soil loosened, and a tender sprout slowly emerged from the scorched earth.

"Who is it? Who has given Water Curtain Cave a chance at life!" The Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons roared furiously, as though thunder was rolling.

"Humph, if not for Tathagata's treachery, I'd have beaten all of you to death with one swing of my staff by now!" Wukong thought bitterly. He understood he was far from being a match for the Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons at the moment. With a heavy heart, he transformed into a streak of green light and dove into that sprout, which suddenly contracted and retreated back into the scorched land.

Yakshas flapped their wings and descended from above, formidable even in their Dharma Bodies.

Following their descent were the other seven of the Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons.

"Strange, just now I distinctly felt a trace of life here! How come it's nowhere to be found?" Asura wondered.

"You're probably hallucinating. Let's go. If there was any sign of life, it can't escape our sight. The Monkey King is dead, no need to be so on edge," Garuda said indifferently, flicking a finger and instantly shattering the pitch-black cliffs of Water Curtain Cave.

The Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons rose again into the sky, disappearing into the clouds. Wukong, hidden within that sprout, finally heaved a sigh of relief.

Just as Wukong was about to struggle out of the sprout, he suddenly heard a voice as slender as a filament.

"Wukong, I knew someday you would come back to Water Curtain Cave, so I planted the seed early on. You shielded me from the wind and rain for tens of thousands of years; I was nothing but a Ziwei flower that grew leaning on you.... And now, this is all I can do to help you."

Wukong found himself unable to break free, and upon hearing that voice, he was startled and felt the sprout carrying him deep into the ground, to an unknown destination. Seeing no escape, he contemplated the voice he had just heard and a scene emerged in his mind—a Ziwei flower growing under a rock by the waterfall of Water Curtain Cave; the rock protected it from the wind and rain.... His heart ached at the thought.

All of a sudden, he found himself crying again, cursing himself inwardly for being such a crybaby, as sentimental as a little girl!

Unaware of where the sprout was taking him, it eventually stopped and began to grow slowly.

Thus, the once unbridled Great Sage Equalling Heaven found himself trapped yet again, looking on helplessly as the sprout grew.

The first time was beneath the Five Fingers Mountain, but that was not his willing choice.

Now, trapped within this sprout, he was content, even wishing to accompany it forever.

After ninety-nine days had passed.

Wukong noticed the sprout was transforming into a humanoid form, growing limbs and a head.

Time flew like an arrow, and another forty-nine days passed.

The sprout had now completely transformed into a humanoid figure, to be exact, a rather large monkey, precisely the former appearance of Wukong.

Before he knew it, a year had gone by.

This body had been slowly growing blood vessels and bones over the course of the year, until today when it finally finished developing completely.

Wukong felt his soul nurtured by the sprout over the year, growing stronger, albeit not as powerful as before, but it had become countless times more formidable than a year ago. Moreover, he felt his soul and this body that had sprouted were incredibly synchronized, as if this was the body he was born with.

"Zixia has been with me for tens of thousands of years, back when I was still an unenlightened rock... We have each other's presence, and perhaps that's why I could blend so perfectly with this body? However, my mana has been completely lost. To cultivate the earth-shaking spells of the past, who knows how many years and months it will take!"

Wukong pondered deeply in his heart. After skirting the edge of death, his mind had become even clearer.

"So, the Journey to the West was but a trickery... Tathagata killed me, and the one who must have replaced me on the Journey to the West is that Six-Eared Macaque! As for the Sea-Calming Divine Needle in my hand, I've no clue where it's gone. Once I regain some mana, let's see if I can summon it." Wukong's heart was like a clear mirror—every bit of the past was engraved in his memory.

He hollowed out the surrounding earth and then crossed his hands over his abdomen, settling into a seated position with his legs crossed.

Wukong suddenly felt a breath pulsing at his dantian. Startled, he recited a Dharma Decree with great effort, just managing to discern this breath within him.

This breath was a purple mist, ethereal and elusive.

"Hongmeng Purple Qi!"

Wukong couldn't help but rejoice in his heart, "That Tathagata killed me, but he didn't anticipate that in the final moment, I would understand one of the escaping parts of the Great Proliferation Four Nine Secret, thus gaining a sliver of life to escape. This Hongmeng Purple Qi must have been inadvertently captured by me at that time! With such a treasure, I should be able to re-cultivate my spells very quickly."

Hongmeng Purple Qi first appeared after Hong Jun's disciple Pangu split Heaven and Earth. Most of it was obtained by Hong Jun, which led to him attaining his position with the Heavenly Dao. The remaining Hongmeng Purple Qi, except for the few captured by some, all escaped into the universe; other than those who captured one of the escaping parts, no one else could obtain it. A poem attests to this: "Hong Jun, the first immortal, his disciple Pangu splitting Heaven and Earth at the dawn."

Wukong, with his intention, touched that strand of misty purple Qi, and instantly, an overwhelming power emerged.

The cycle of the universe, the Primordial Heaven and Earth!

Scene by scene, they were vividly imprinted in his vision, and his eyes, which had lost the Fiery Eyes with Golden Vision, gained an unprecedented clarity.

"Primordial Great Strength Technique," "Primordial Formation," "Primordial Three Thousand Transformations"...

Techniques after techniques flooded in like a waterfall. Wukong caught only glimpses, his vision a blur, but he was in no rush.

In the past, Wukong had cultivated the Seventy-Two Transformations, but now he saw the Primordial Three Thousand Transformations. Could it be that there were actually three thousand variations of these spells? A tremor passed through his heart, but then he thought it through: "Three Thousand Great Paths, thus three thousand variations!" He used to think himself mighty, self-proclaimed as the Great Sage Equalling Heaven, but only now did he understand how weak he was back then. The Seventy-Two Transformations, in front of these three thousand variations, were no more than ants!

"Great Sage Equalling Heaven... If I can master all the spells within this Hongmeng Purple Qi, that would be more like it. Before, I truly was a frog in a well! Hmph, once I've learned these abilities, I'll definitely ascend to the Western Heaven and settle the score with that Tathagata!"

Wukong thought angrily, clenching his fists so tightly they "crackled," and the surrounding earth began to collapse.

"Buddhism took advantage of the Journey to the West to spread Buddhist Sutras to the Central Earth. Then, they could compete with Taoism for Incense Willpower to expand their influence! Sakyamuni, you indeed had a good scheme. But what a pity, you didn't slay me, Grandpa Wukong, with one palm slap—probably the biggest mistake of your life. Once I've mastered these abilities, one day I will tear you to shreds!"

Having considered this, Wukong once again submerged his consciousness into his body to feel the Hongmeng Purple Qi.

Within this strand of Hongmeng Purple Qi were countless Dharma Gates, all of which were born from splitting Heaven and Earth and experiencing the Heavenly Dao, the closest spells in this world to the "Dao," extremely formidable, yet incredibly abstruse. Even with Wukong's profound ability to comprehend, he could only grasp the surface.

Wukong merged with the tender sprout left by Zixia, extremely fragile in the flesh, far from being indestructible. Even a regular adult could likely wound him with a little force. Therefore, he quickly chose a technique called "Primordial Body Refining Technique" from within the Hongmeng Purple Qi to cultivate.

Thus, over the past month, the villagers living nearby would often feel tremors in the land.

At first, they were terrified, offering daily prayers to the God of Soil, but they eventually grew accustomed to it.

Wukong refined his body daily with Hongmeng Purple Qi and endured pain beyond imagination.

The Hongmeng Purple Qi was so domineering that it often shattered his sinews and bones to pieces, but then it would immediately heal him. After such repetitive forging, Wukong's physique grew increasingly robust.

Immortal cultivation truly requires enduring solitude, and Wukong could certainly quiet his mind and meticulously study the myriad spell variations within the Hongmeng Purple Qi. He had withstood five hundred years imprisoned under the Five Fingers Mountain by Tathagata; what was today's suffering in comparison?

Days and months slowly trickled through Wukong's fingers, and he had no notion how much time had passed.

One day, the Hongmeng Purple Qi suddenly surged into his brain and burst open. Streaks of purple light spread throughout his body, and his originally frail physique became firm in that moment. His pores all opened, his skin rippling like it was breathing. Each pore was inhaling and exhaling Hongmeng Purple Qi.

"At last, some success!"

Wukong was ecstatic and, calculating with his fingers, realized another month had passed.

Considering the time, it had been one year and seven months since he had been nearly obliterated by Tathagata's palm.

That night.

With a loud bang, rocks shattered, and a stream of purple light shot into the sky, soaring into a household.

But in a moment, a graceful young man dressed in green quietly walked out.

The next morning, the villagers woke to find a pit so deep in the open ground that it was nearly bottomless. Recalling the thunderous noise from the night before, they wondered which demon had cultivated to transcendence? They shivered and scattered like birds and beasts, returning home to quickly slaughter a chicken, scattering chicken blood and glutinous rice at their doorsteps.