Chapter 765
The Tightening Spell Turns into a Massage, and Guanyin's Defenses Are Completely Br
Thinking about it this way, the phrase "keep reading" wasn't a clue, but rather a natural reaction to his twisted personality.
Sun Wukong rolled on the ground, nearly kicking himself for his stupid mistake. He quickly intensified his performance, drowning out the earlier "keep reading" with the loudest wails.
He covered his head with his hands, curled up into a ball, and kicked wildly on the ground, causing the rubble to tumble down the cliff.
"Stop chanting! Bodhisattva, stop chanting! I, Old Sun, know I was wrong! My head hurts! My head is splitting open!"
His wailing was so shrill it could bring down the birds in the sky, and combined with his tears, snot, and distorted expressions, his acting was practically perfect.
He howled and banged his head against the ground, making a loud thud, his forehead covered in dust and pebbles.
Guanyin Bodhisattva nodded in satisfaction upon seeing this. That was right; that aligned with her understanding of the golden headband. A monkey tormented by the golden headband should be in this pitiful state, crying and screaming for its parents, rolling on the ground, not begging for more.
But she still wasn't going to stop. Once wasn't enough, twice wasn't enough, three times wasn't enough. Today she was going to teach Sun Wukong a lesson, to crush that unruly monkey heart into dust, so that he would never dare to be arrogant in front of her again.
So she didn't stop and continued reading meticulously.
Once, twice, three times.
Guanyin Bodhisattva recited the Tightening-Headband Mantra three times, but she didn't stop, continuing to recite it a fourth time. Her lips moved faster and faster, and the mantra poured down like a storm, giving Sun Wukong no chance to catch his breath.
Sun Wukong lay on the ground, his curled-up body initially struggling and twitching, but as time went on, his movements became lighter and lighter, his struggles less and less, his body slowly relaxed from tense to relaxed, and finally he lay limply on the ground as if his bones had been removed, no longer moving.
The real reason he didn't move was that Sun Wukong had fallen asleep.
To be precise, I fell into a deep sleep amidst the ultimate comfort of the massage.
The massage force transformed from the headband was incredibly comfortable, the pressure perfectly controlled, as if the most skillful hands in the world were kneading every acupoint on his head. The relaxation made him want to stay still and simply sleep soundly.
Anyway, I can't beat that old woman Guanyin Bodhisattva. I can't fight her, and I can't keep up my acting skills all the time. When I feel comfortable, I get sleepy, and when I get sleepy, I just take a nap.
He lay on the ground, his body completely relaxed, his breathing becoming even and long, and there was even a faint smile on his lips.
As Guanyin Bodhisattva was chanting, she suddenly noticed that Sun Wukong had stopped moving. Her brow furrowed, and a chill ran down her spine—had she been chanted to death?
She immediately stopped chanting and extended her divine sense to scan Sun Wukong. Her divine sense swept over his body; his heartbeat was steady, his breathing even, his soul stable—all his vital signs were normal. Thankfully, he wasn't dead; he could still breathe.
Guanyin Bodhisattva breathed a sigh of relief, but then her brows furrowed again. She stared at Sun Wukong lying on the ground, and that uneasy feeling in her heart resurfaced.
Logically speaking, after enduring the pain of the Tightening Spell four times, even someone with an indestructible body should be in so much pain that they wish they were dead.
A person who faints from pain should have bulging veins on their face, distorted features, clenched teeth, muscle spasms, and their whole body stiff as a stone.
But Sun Wukong's appearance didn't look like he had fainted from pain at all.
He lay face down on the ground, his mouth slightly open, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth in a glistening thread. His expression was one of complete relaxation, with no eye twitching, no muscle spasms, and his breathing as even as if he were having a sweet dream.
It looks like she's asleep.
She examined him closely, even taking two steps forward and bending down to look closely at Sun Wukong's face. What she saw made her lips twitch.
A small puddle of drool trickled from the corner of Sun Wukong's mouth. His expression was as peaceful as if he were dozing in a hot spring, and you could even hear soft snoring. Sleeping like this, he wasn't fainting from pain; he was clearly fainting from comfort.
Guanyin Bodhisattva straightened up and rubbed her temples. She wondered if she had seen things wrong, but after checking several times, she thought she might be overthinking it.
After all, it's a headband given by the Buddha, something personally crafted by Tathagata, so there couldn't be any problems. If the headband were to malfunction, wouldn't that mean even Tathagata could make a mistake? That possibility simply doesn't exist.
She found a reasonable explanation for herself—perhaps when Sun Wukong was in extreme pain, his body would enter a special state, outwardly appearing as if he were asleep, but in reality, he was using sleep to escape the pain.
While this situation is rare, it's not entirely impossible. She didn't doubt it much; after all, things given by Buddha couldn't possibly be wrong—this was a deeply ingrained belief of hers.
Guanyin Bodhisattva stopped chanting the incantation, withdrew her hand seal, and stood upright on the lotus platform again, looking down at Sun Wukong who was lying on the ground. She said in a calm tone, "Considering this is your first offense, I will forgive you this time. If you dare to disobey me again in the future, I will not let you off lightly."
Sun Wukong was sleeping comfortably when, in his drowsy state, he suddenly felt the tingling massage sensation on his head disappear, leaving only a feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction.
The feeling is like when a masseur suddenly stops and leaves while you are enjoying a massage. The pleasant sensation throughout your body comes to an abrupt end, leaving behind a lingering tingling and itchy feeling in your bones.
"Keep going, don't stop."
Sun Wukong muttered something in dissatisfaction, his voice still full of sleepiness and discontent.
These words were spoken so clearly that all the gods present heard them perfectly.
Jin Tou Jie Di had just escaped death and was huddled behind Guanyin Bodhisattva, recovering his strength. Hearing this, he was stunned, his eyes wide open, his mouth agape, not knowing what to say.
The group of six Ding and six Jia exchanged glances, and in each other's eyes they saw an unshakeable confusion and bewilderment.
Guanyin Bodhisattva was also stunned. Her composure cracked visibly for a moment; her lips twitched, and her brows furrowed into a tight knot. What was going on? She had stopped the headband spell; shouldn't Sun Wukong be in so much pain he couldn't even speak? Shouldn't he look like he'd just escaped a calamity? Wasn't that enough?
After uttering "Keep going, don't stop!", Sun Wukong suddenly snapped back to reality. He sprang to his feet, as if a gong had been struck in his head—he'd overdone it! He'd been exposed again!
He quickly wiped away the sleepiness and comfort from his face, instantly switching to a gritted-teeth, bloodshot-eyed expression. He took several steps back, feigning extreme pain yet stubbornly refusing to collapse, staring intently at Guanyin Bodhisattva, his voice filled with hatred and fear: "Shut up! Bodhisattva, I won't kill that Jiedi anymore! Please stop chanting!" His tone trembled perfectly, his eyes revealing the terror of being tortured, and his body deliberately swayed twice, giving the impression that he was about to collapse at any moment. This performance could be considered the pinnacle of his acting skills to date.
The problem is, he is not Lin Zhu after all.
Lin Zhu's talent for deception and fraud is innate. When she tells a lie, her heart doesn't even skip a beat, and she can switch her facial expressions however she wants.
Although Sun Wukong is intelligent, his personality is too violent and direct, and acting is a skill beyond his capabilities.
Even if one can manage to act reasonably well, the transitions between lines are always somewhat abrupt. The shift from "Keep going, don't stop" to "Stop reading" is as awkward as a tree branch being snapped in half. Anyone with a slightly observant eye can easily spot the problem.
However, Guanyin Bodhisattva did not pursue the matter further. On one hand, her confidence was simply too strong; she did not believe that the golden headband given by Buddha would cause any problems. On the other hand, Sun Wukong's final words, "Please stop chanting," were already a public admission of defeat.
She had achieved her goal—to subdue Sun Wukong—and she didn't intend to delve into whether something was amiss.
"It's good that you know you were wrong."
Guanyin Bodhisattva looked down at Sun Wukong, her tone regaining its previous cold and authoritative tone, "Since you have entered my Buddhist order, you must abide by my Buddhist precepts. It is the Buddha's decree to have you escort Tang Sanzang to the Western Paradise. You should be diligent and conscientious, so why did you attack your fellow disciple? The Golden-Headed Jiedi is a deity specially sent by the Buddha to protect the journey to the West. What is the reason for you to swing your staff at your fellow disciple?"
She originally intended to ask this question casually, and then let Sun Wukong lower his head and admit his mistake to smooth things over.
She didn't want to make a big fuss about it, since the matter of Jiedi failing to save someone in distress was indeed hard to explain, and arguing about it wouldn't do any good for the image of the Western Paradise.
But to her surprise, before Sun Wukong could answer, a figure rushed out from behind the rock.
When Tang Sanzang jumped out, his bald head reflected a blinding white light under the Buddha's halo around him. He looked like a stone launched from a slingshot, his face filled with undisguised murderous intent. Standing before Guanyin Bodhisattva, he pointed at the Golden-Headed Jiedi, his voice trembling with rage, almost shouting, "Bodhisattva, please witness! That Golden-Headed Jiedi is the murderer who caused the tragic deaths of my brothers!"
His voice echoed through the valley, each word brimming with genuine hatred. He raised his head, meeting Guanyin Bodhisattva's eyes without fear, his voice growing increasingly agitated: "This humble monk witnessed it with his own eyes on Shuangcha Ridge! That monster captured my two attendants and devoured them alive! He stood there in the sky, watching, he could have intervened to save them, yet he stood by coldly, motionless! What kind of deity is this? Does such a person deserve even a bow from this humble monk?"
Guanyin Bodhisattva looked at Tang Sanzang's face, which was distorted with anger, and her brows furrowed imperceptibly.
She never expected Tang Sanzang to jump out at this moment, and she never expected that this monk, who was usually as soft as dough, would dare to refute her in public.
But she quickly regained her compassionate and dignified demeanor, a gentle smile playing on her lips, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"Tang Xuanzang, do not let hatred blind you."
Guanyin Bodhisattva's voice was calm and unhurried, as if she were reasoning with an ignorant child, "Everything must be based on evidence. Do you have any evidence to prove that Jin Tou Jie Di killed your brother?"
Tang Sanzang was taken aback for a moment, then his voice rose even louder: "This humble monk saw it with his own eyes—"
"You saw it with your own eyes, but he didn't help."
Guanyin Bodhisattva interrupted him, her tone still gentle, but the meaning behind her words was as sharp as a knife: "Not offering help is not the same as harming. You should understand the difference between the two."
Tang Sanzang opened his mouth, an expression of disbelief on his face. Looking at Guanyin Bodhisattva's compassionate face, he suddenly felt that what was etched on that face was not compassion, but an indescribable coldness and hypocrisy.
They were clearly refusing to help someone in distress, clearly colluding with each other, yet they spoke as if the Golden-Headed Jiedi had done nothing wrong.
"fart!"
Tang Sanzang finally couldn't hold back any longer. His voice became sharp and shrill with anger, the veins on his bald head bulged, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Great Bodhisattva, please don't be deceived by this demon! This humble monk is certain that he is the wicked beast who harmed my brothers! Such a person is a malignant tumor if he stays in the Western Paradise. Bodhisattva, are you going to protect the murderer?!"
Guanyin Bodhisattva's expression turned cold. She looked at Tang Sanzang's face, which was contorted with rage, and a hint of genuine displeasure flashed in her eyes.
A pilgrim on a pilgrimage, a reincarnation of the Golden Cicada, actually accused her of protecting a murderer in front of so many people. If this got out, it would be a significant stain on Guanyin's reputation.
However, she was, after all, Guanyin Bodhisattva, a seasoned veteran who had lived for countless millennia, and had seen it all. Tang Sanzang's temper was nothing more than a minor disturbance in her eyes, utterly insignificant and posing no real threat.
Her expression hardened, and her voice carried an undeniable coldness: "This matter need not be mentioned again. The people of the Western Paradise are all compassionate and kind, without evil intentions or wicked deeds."
"Since the Golden-Headed Jiedi is a deity sent by my Western Paradise, his every action represents the will of my Western Paradise. To question him is to question the entire Western Paradise."
These words were perfectly watertight, directly linking the actions of the Golden-Headed Jiedi to the entire Western Paradise, essentially telling Tang Sanzang—you either accept it, or you're going against the entire Western Paradise.
Tang Sanzang wasn't stupid; he understood the meaning behind those words. His lips trembled, his teeth clenched so tightly they cracked, and his chest felt as if something was blocking it.
Looking at Guanyin Bodhisattva's indifferent face and the cowardly appearance of the Golden-Headed Jiedi after surviving a calamity, an indescribable anger and disappointment surged from the bottom of his heart. He wanted to say something, but it was as if a piece of cotton was stuck in his throat, and he couldn't say anything.
He finally lowered his head.
But his fists were clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, leaving several deep red marks. The anger in his eyes did not subside; instead, it burned even more fiercely.
That flame wasn't a superficial rage, but a deep, colder, and more profound hatred that had settled within him. Every word Guanyin Bodhisattva spoke was like a needle piercing his heart, shattering his illusions about the Western Paradise bit by bit.
This is the Western Paradise. This is the Western Paradise he traveled across mountains and rivers to worship.
They shield criminals, distort the truth, and use compassion as a pretext to cover up their own depravity. He used to think the demons and monsters on the journey to the West were difficult to deal with, but now he realized that what was more terrifying than the demons were these high and mighty gods and Buddhas. (End of Chapter)