Chapter 777
Guanyin forcibly stuffs hair into his mouth, Tang Seng clings to her legs and begs, Lin
Even if you don't want the treasure, you have to have it.
Guanyin Bodhisattva gritted her teeth and forced a smile back onto her face, but the smile looked forced no matter how you looked at it.
Without seeking Sun Wukong's opinion, she directly pulled out three emerald green willow leaves from the jade bottle, flicked her finger, and three beams of green light shot out, tracing three arcs in the air.
Sun Wukong's expression changed, and his body instinctively tried to dodge.
His reaction was quick; he was about to dodge to the side, but he was still a step too slow. Three beams of green light pierced through his protective aura and went straight into the back of his head, turning into three golden hairs at the base of his hair.
The three hairs shone with golden light, shimmering faintly in the sunlight. On the surface, they looked no different from ordinary hair, but upon closer inspection, one could see that each hair was covered with dense, tiny runes, which were layered and wrapped around the hair like invisible chains.
Guanyin Bodhisattva breathed a sigh of relief, and the smile on her face became more natural again.
She withdrew her hand, her voice regaining its distant and solemn tone: "These three life-saving hairs can be used in any situation. If you are in a desperate and helpless time, they can save you from your urgent troubles. You should cherish them and not let my good intentions go to waste."
Sun Wukong raised his hand and touched the back of his head.
His fiery eyes burned brightly in their sockets, and the image of Guanyin Bodhisattva was reflected in his golden pupils. There was no gratitude or awe in his gaze, only a kind of dissatisfaction at being forcibly plastered on.
When his fingers touched the three hairs, he clearly felt a force that did not belong to him pulsating slightly under his skin, as if three invisible threads were extending from the back of his head and connecting to a place extremely far away.
His teeth were grinding together.
Sun Wukong raised his head, staring intently at Guanyin Bodhisattva, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. It was a smile that was hard to define—it was neither laughter nor anger. His lips were stretched wide, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth, but the flames in his eyes burned even brighter.
He slowly opened his mouth, squeezing out each word through his teeth: "Thank you, Guanyin and your family."
The tone of those five words was incredibly unpleasant.
The word "thank you" was pronounced with particular emphasis, as if the speaker wanted to chew it up before spitting it out. The phrase "Guanyin's whole family" was deliberately drawn out, with the final syllable rising slightly, carrying an indescribable sense of irony.
But Guanyin Bodhisattva didn't care.
Now that the seeds had been sown, it didn't matter what he said; the mission was accomplished. She sighed softly, a look of exhaustion on her face, and rose a few feet onto the lotus, preparing to leave this place that had caused her so much humiliation.
Sun Wukong stood still, the tip of his tail drooping down, his fingers gripping the golden cudgel turning slightly white from the force.
He felt the three hairs take root and sprout on the back of his head, deeply embedding themselves in his flesh and blood, intertwining with his primordial spirit, inseparable from each other.
He could feel that his power was enough to destroy stars, shake the heavens and the earth, and make all the gods and Buddhas tremble. At the level of a Great Luo Golden Immortal, there were only a handful of beings in the Three Realms who could rival him.
But so what? Faced with the hair that Guanyin Bodhisattva forcibly planted, he couldn't even dodge it and could only be manipulated like a puppet.
This feeling of being manipulated was even more unbearable than when he was imprisoned under the Five Elements Mountain.
Five hundred years of suppression had worn away his spirit, and these three hairs today have worn away his pride.
Sun Wukong raised his head and looked up at the sky.
Above the clouds, a faint, elusive pull emanated from the western sky, as if an invisible thread extended from behind his head, connecting to the distant Great Thunderclap Temple.
The line was so thin that it was almost imperceptible, but it was real and would continue to exist.
He wants to become stronger.
We must become stronger.
He was so powerful that no one could tamper with him, so powerful that no magic weapon could restrain his will, so powerful that he could attack the Lingxiao Palace whenever he wanted, and overthrow the Great Thunderclap Temple whenever he wanted.
Lin Zhu stood aside, quietly watching all of this.
He saw three green lights enter the back of Sun Wukong's head, and saw the three hairs take root and sprout on Sun Wukong's scalp. At the same time, he saw an invisible line extending from Sun Wukong's body, passing through layers of clouds and void, all the way to the direction of the Western Paradise.
The line was so thin that it was almost invisible, but it was incredibly clear to him.
That's not an ordinary wire.
That's the line of cause and effect.
It is a causal bondage that is more powerful than any magic weapon.
These three hairs are something that Guanyin Bodhisattva could not have created. Although Guanyin's jade vase is powerful and the willow branch is magical, they could not possibly create this level of causal connection.
To plant a causal thread in a great immortal like Sun Wukong requires power far exceeding that of Guanyin Bodhisattva, and an ultimate control over the causal laws of the entire Three Realms.
In the entire Western Paradise, there is only one person who can do this.
Tathagata Buddha.
Lin Zhu's gaze lingered on the three hairs for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly before relaxing. He said nothing, simply withdrawing his gaze silently. This matter had no direct connection to him, and he saw no need to meddle.
It's the Western Paradise's business to tamper with Sun Wukong, as long as it doesn't affect his mission.
Tang Sanzang climbed out of the ground.
He patted the mud off his monk's robe, straightened his hat which had been askew, and touched the spot on his chest where the white dragon horse had kicked him, his face full of resentment. He walked in the direction where Guanyin Bodhisattva had left, put his hands together, bowed, and muttered, "Thank you, Bodhisattva."
The tone was so perfunctory, it was like a routine matter, as if saying, "Okay, okay, I know, you can go now."
Guanyin Bodhisattva nodded, and the golden lotus beneath her feet shone brightly. She transformed into a beam of golden light and soared into the sky. Amidst the swirling fragrant breeze, her figure gradually blurred. As the colorful mist drifted by, a flash of golden light disappeared, and she vanished into the horizon.
They headed straight for Putuo Mountain.
Lin Zhu watched a grand spectacle, yawned, put his hands in his sleeves, and prepared to leave. The jade gourd in his arms was heavy, with the 100,000 merits of divine water lying securely inside. He had gained quite a bit from this trip, and it was time to go back and take a nap.
He turned around, waved casually at the master and apprentice, and said lazily, "Let's go, let's continue on our way. The road ahead is fraught with difficulties, so keep up the good work."
He had just taken one step.
Lin Zhu suddenly felt a heaviness in her legs. It was as if something was tightly binding them, making it impossible for her to take a step.
He looked down and saw a human-shaped pendant hanging on one of his legs—Tang Sanzang was hugging his calf, his arms crossed over his ankles, and his entire weight was hanging on it, making his leg sink a little.
Tang Sanzang raised his head, his face covered in tears and snot, his monk's robe sleeves smeared with dust and snot stains. His lips trembled violently, and he made muffled sobs, looking utterly miserable, as if he had suffered a great injustice.
"Don't go—boss, don't go!"
Tang Sanzang's voice cracked, and he cried out with tears streaming down his face, his throat splitting: "If you don't take care of this humble monk, I really can't live! What will I do if you leave!"
Lin Zhu was full of questions.
Tang Sanzang cried louder and louder, blowing snot bubbles from his nose. He pointed in the direction where Guanyin Bodhisattva had disappeared, his voice filled with anger and resentment: "That Guanyin is a complete idiot! A total idiot! She gave my powerful disciple three life-saving hairs, one after another, without even blinking an eye, but she couldn't give this mortal monk even the slightest bit of treasure to protect himself!"
He cursed with increasing fervor, his voice rising higher and higher, his grip on Lin Zhu's leg tightening as if afraid she would run away: "This humble monk is but a mortal, a mortal without the strength to even kill a chicken! What if I'm targeted by a monster on the road? What if I'm stopped by a bandit? What if I'm blown away by the wind? My disciple is powerful, but even he can't withstand the sheer number of monsters! Guanyin, on the other hand, the rich die rich and the poor die poor, she gave all three of her hairs to Sun Wukong, while this humble monk didn't even get a single hair!"
He raised a finger to the sky, gritted his teeth, and roared, "This humble monk will truly thank you! This humble monk will send her to the Western Paradise with one punch!"
Lin Zhu looked down at the monk who was crying his eyes out, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
Upon closer examination, Tang Sanzang's words do indeed make sense. Logically speaking, there's nothing wrong with Guanyin Bodhisattva protecting Sun Wukong, a key combatant, since Sun Wukong is the main fighting force and his safety is of paramount importance.
The problem is that Tang Sanzang is the core of Journey to the West; without him, there would be no pilgrimage. If Tang Sanzang were killed by monsters on the way, even ten Sun Wukongs wouldn't have helped.
The fact that Guanyin Bodhisattva gave all three of her life-saving hairs to Sun Wukong, but not a single one to Tang Sanzang, seems illogical no matter how you look at it.
Lin Zhu grinned.
He discovered that Tang Sanzang had actually found this blind spot.
A blind spot that even Guanyin Bodhisattva herself was unaware of.
Or perhaps, Guanyin Bodhisattva did it on purpose.
Because in the original plan of the Journey to the West, Tang Sanzang was destined to suffer.
All eighty-one tribulations are indispensable; each one is a preordained tribulation. Tang Sanzang must endure all these tribulations to demonstrate the arduousness of his journey to the West to obtain the scriptures and to satisfy the people of Mount Ling.
Giving Tang Sanzang a protective treasure? Isn't that like having a cheat code to clear the game? The Western Paradise doesn't want a Tang Sanzang who can easily reach Mount Ling, but an ascetic monk who has been captured by demons countless times and struggled on the brink of life and death before finally obtaining the true scriptures.
At this moment, high in the heavens.
Guanyin Bodhisattva stood on a cloud, her feet resting on a golden lotus, but her face was still incredibly dark. Her gaze pierced through the layers of clouds and landed on the monk who was crying and clinging to Lin Zhu's leg by the Eagle's Sorrow Stream, and her heart pounded with anxiety.
She had just given Sun Wukong three hairs, and Tang Sanzang had called her an idiot from below, which she could tolerate. But Lin Zhu was different. Lin Zhu was known for not playing by the rules, and he already had a grudge against the Western Paradise. What if he really pulled out some extraordinary treasure for Tang Sanzang to protect himself? How would the Journey to the West proceed?
With the magical artifact given to Tang Sanzang by Lin Zhu, which demon would dare to capture him? Which tribulation could possibly be completed? Wouldn't most of the eighty-one tribulations be wasted?
She became increasingly nervous as she thought about it, her fingers clenching so tightly inside her sleeves that they turned white.
At the edge of Eagle's Sorrow Stream, Lin Zhu looked down at Tang Sanzang, who was rubbing against his leg.
The monk cried his heart out, tears and snot streaming down his face, his voice hoarse from crying, but the hand gripping his leg remained steady, as if to say, "I won't let go until you give me something."
Lin Zhu grinned.
He actually found Tang Sanzang quite interesting. Although this monk was timid and liked to curse, he was quick-witted and immediately saw that Guanyin Bodhisattva's arrangement was problematic.
Moreover, he was extremely humble when asking for favors, readily offering help and crying without any psychological burden. Lin Zhu considered this flexible and adaptable personality a plus.
What's even more amazing?
Guanyin Bodhisattva must be watching from heaven right now.
Lin Zhu could crush the White Dragon's saddle, so naturally he could also provide Tang Sanzang with some means of self-defense.
Guanyin Bodhisattva watched all this from heaven, and her anxiety was probably even greater than that of Tang Sanzang—she feared that Lin Zhu might actually give Tang Sanzang some heaven-defying magic weapon, making it impossible for the Journey to the West to proceed as planned.
This is something that Guanyin Bodhisattva is suffering from.
If he doesn't give it to him, Tang Sanzang will be upset.
Who does Lin Zhu think is suffering?
Of course, it's Guanyin Bodhisattva.
Lin Zhu reached into his sleeve, rummaged around for a bit, and his fingertips touched several warm, smooth medicine bottles. His smile widened, revealing an undisguised mischievousness, as if he had thought of something particularly amusing.
Above the clouds, Guanyin Bodhisattva's heart was in her throat.
She saw Lin Zhu reach into her sleeve, which was bulging and clearly contained a lot of things. Her pupils contracted sharply, and her body involuntarily leaned forward, almost falling off her golden lotus feet.
Lin Zhu moved very slowly.
When he pulled his hand out of his sleeve, there were two things in his palm—two pills, one as red as fire and the other as blue as the sea.
The surface of the red pill glowed with a faint firelight, shimmering with an alluring red light in the sunlight and emanating a scorching aura.
The blue pill was covered with a thin layer of frost, and wisps of cold air emanated from it, condensing into tiny ice crystals in the air.
He held a pill in each hand, the red and blue colors contrasting sharply in his palms.
Lin Zhu looked down at Tang Sanzang, who was still clinging to his lap, his face beaming with a smile as if he had won the lottery. His voice brimming with indescribable excitement, he shouted with boundless pride, "Choose one!"
Lin Zhu held the two pills in his palms. The blue pill in his left hand was plain and unadorned, while the red pill in his right hand exuded a murderous aura.
The red pill gleamed with an eerie, blood-red light under the sunlight, with faint dark red patterns slowly flowing across its surface, as if something was trapped inside, struggling and roaring.
Just staring at it for a while made one feel as if they could hear the roars and battle cries of countless demons, sending chills down their spine. (End of Chapter)