Chapter 214: Celestial Arts

Patriarch Bodhi did not blame Wukong for his earlier rudeness. After hearing his explanation, he let the matter slide.

In secret, Bodhi calculated the omens with his fingers and thought to himself, The time has come.

The moment he first laid eyes on Wukong, Bodhi had noticed his extraordinary nature. Some unknown entity had managed to alter Wukong's destiny, even under the watchful eyes of the countless Buddhas in the heavens.

Since Wukong's fate had already been changed, it was Bodhi's responsibility as his teacher to ensure the young disciple wouldn't follow his originally tragic path. It was time for Bodhi to make his move.

With an air of immortality, Bodhi stroked his jade-like beard and said faintly: "Wukong, let me ask you, how long have you been in this cave?"

Wukong scratched his head and replied, "Master, I don't know the years, but I do know that the mountain peaches have ripened seven times, and I've feasted on them seven times!"

Bodhi smiled as he stroked his beard.

"Seven years have passed… Tell me, what kind of Daoist arts would you like to learn?"

Hearing this, Wukong immediately lit up. He knew that Bodhi intended to teach him real techniques. Excited, he hopped and scratched at his ears before bouncing next to Bodhi and looking up at him expectantly.

"Master, whatever you teach me, I'll learn!"

Bodhi chuckled softly.

"Very well. Shall I teach you the arts of divination, demon-banishing, and warding off evil spirits?"

Wukong froze for a moment, finding the suggestion oddly familiar. However, he didn't dwell on it too long and instinctively asked,

"Master, with this kind of art, can one achieve immortality?"

Seeing Wukong's unwavering determination for immortality, Bodhi laughed heartily. "No, no, no… That won't grant you immortality."

Wukong shook his head firmly.

"Then I won't learn it!"

Bodhi continued, "Then shall I teach you how to chant scriptures, worship deities, and summon the sacred?"

Hearing the question, Wukong felt a stronger sense of déjà vu, as if someone had asked him these same things before. Though distracted, he respectfully asked, "Can it lead to immortality?"

"Like trying to grasp the moon's reflection in water," Bodhi responded with a smile. But then he noticed Wukong zoning out again and furrowed his brows. With a hint of displeasure in his voice, he said,

"Wukong!"

Snapped back to attention by Bodhi's stern call, Wukong quickly composed himself and answered firmly: "If it doesn't grant immortality, I won't learn it!"

"Then shall I teach you meditation, fasting, and ascetic practices?" Bodhi asked.

Hearing these words, Wukong fell completely silent. Memories of years past surfaced in his mind—specifically, the image of a white-haired, blue-eyed celestial being.

The questions his master was asking him now were the exact same questions that celestial being had asked him back then. Wukong hesitated, unsure if he should mention this encounter to his master.

Bodhi, noticing Wukong's distracted state once again, grew genuinely frustrated.

It wasn't the disrespect that angered him—it was Wukong's lack of seriousness in seeking the Dao. With so many Buddhas in the heavens scheming against him, how could Wukong ever hope to change his destiny with such an attitude?

Bodhi waved his whisk, letting it fall upon Wukong's body. To his surprise, a metallic clang echoed, as though divine steel had been struck.

Startled, Bodhi thought, When did this disciple's physique become so powerful?

Still, as a master of great cultivation, he kept his emotions hidden. His face remained calm as he scolded,

"Wukong, to be distracted in the presence of your teacher—what punishment do you think you deserve?"

Seeing his most respected master angry, Wukong dared not hide anything further. He immediately explained the thoughts that had distracted him. "Master, please forgive me! Just now, I was distracted because I remembered the celestial being who taught me the techniques years ago."

Hearing that Wukong's distraction involved the celestial who had imparted his unique abilities, Patriarch Bodhi's interest was piqued.

Bodhi had studied Wukong's techniques in the past.

The celestial arts Wukong practiced were indeed extraordinary. They bore a striking resemblance to the path of strength and primal power, akin to the Dao of Pangu, the primordial deity.

Even Bodhi himself could not comprehend such profound divine abilities. Without the intervention of that mysterious celestial, Wukong would likely have required countless eons to gain even a fraction of understanding.

The mere existence of such abilities proved the celestial's immense power—an existence far beyond Bodhi himself. Not even the saints of the heavens would casually pass on such abilities.

Through years of deduction, Bodhi had formed a theory about this celestial's identity.

Without a doubt, that being must have been akin to Pangu, a primordial deity who existed even before the heavens and earth were formed.

With this realization, Bodhi calmed himself, concealing his awe. He asked Wukong with an air of indifference:

"Oh? Tell me the details."

Given the opportunity to explain, Wukong eagerly continued:

"From the moment you asked me the first question, Master, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. At first, I thought it was just my imagination, so I didn't pay it much mind.

"But when you asked me the same question again, the feeling grew stronger, and I suddenly remembered why it felt so familiar.

"It's because, years ago, that celestial asked me the exact same questions you've just asked—word for word!"

"What?!" Bodhi's composed demeanor immediately shattered, his face filled with shock.

He pressed Wukong urgently,

"Are you certain it was word for word?"

Seeing his master's strong reaction, Wukong was puzzled but answered earnestly, "Yes, Master, I'm absolutely sure. Is there something wrong?"

Bodhi did not respond to Wukong's question. Instead, he fell into deep silence.

If the celestial had indeed repeated Bodhi's questions word for word, this was no coincidence. It meant that years ago, the celestial had already foreseen Bodhi asking Wukong the exact same questions.

This suggested that to the celestial, Bodhi's actions were completely transparent—laid bare without any concealment.

If the celestial wanted to harm him, they wouldn't even need to act directly. A few well-placed moves within the web of cause and effect would be enough to end him.

This was the overwhelming power of a vastly superior being crushing a weaker one.

Ordinarily, such a scenario might be tolerable. However, Bodhi was no ordinary individual—he was a semi-saint!

Even the six saints of the heavens couldn't fully unravel his destiny.

Aside from Hongjun, the Dao Ancestor in harmony with the heavens, no one should be able to surpass him so thoroughly.

Yet Hongjun would never teach Wukong such techniques.

Could it be that there was another existence in the heavens as powerful as the Dao Ancestor?

At this thought, even Bodhi, with his vast cultivation, felt a chill spread through him.

The waters of this chaotic world seemed deeper than he had anticipated.

Was there more to the looming calamity of the Journey to the West than he had realized?

Still, Bodhi comforted himself: My mountain has long remained hidden from worldly matters. Even the calamities of the Journey to the West won't affect us much. Besides, this celestial seems to hold goodwill toward Wukong and has no reason to harm my mountain. Let the myriad gods and Buddhas worry about this mess!

Having reached this conclusion, Bodhi finally composed himself. He suddenly grabbed his ruler and smacked Wukong three times on the head.

"You cheeky monkey! You won't learn this or that—I'll teach you the weight of the discipline ruler!"

After delivering three smacks, Bodhi flicked his sleeves and walked away.

Behind him, the young celestial attendants scolded Wukong,

"You impudent monkey! How dare you offend the master!"

Other disciples also came forward to criticize Wukong.

Yet despite their reprimands, Wukong didn't look the least bit upset. Instead, he wore a cheerful smile.

After the others had left, he turned to the direction in which Bodhi had departed and bowed deeply, gratitude shining in his eyes.

...

In the dead of night, Wukong crept out of his bed and left the dormitory, quietly making his way to Patriarch Bodhi's quarters.

The moonlight illuminated the night, casting everything in a soft glow. Standing at Bodhi's door, Wukong hesitated for a long time before finally pushing it open and stepping inside.

Seeing his master sleeping peacefully, Wukong bit his lip and softly called, "Master, Master~"

Bodhi did not respond. Out of deep respect for his teacher, Wukong, though confident he had understood the intent behind the three strikes during the day, chose not to disturb his slumber.

Instead, Wukong quietly sat down in the room, waiting patiently. Only when the candles burned down to their final embers did he rise, preparing to leave as the fourth watch of the night began.

Just as he was about to step out, Bodhi's voice rang out behind him:

"Is that you, Wukong?"

Wukong was overjoyed. He immediately turned back, kneeling before his master with utmost reverence. "Master, I have been waiting for so long!"

Feigning confusion, Bodhi asked,

"You cheeky monkey, why aren't you asleep at this late hour? What are you doing here?"

With a mischievous grin, Wukong replied, "Master, you struck me three times during the day and closed the middle door. It was clearly a signal for me to come through the back door at the third watch to learn the true path! Master, Master, please teach me something of real value!"

Seeing that Wukong had indeed understood his intentions, Bodhi was delighted. "Since you are so eager to learn, I will teach you. I have two arts of transformation to impart to you. One is the 36 Heavenly Transformations, and the other is the 72 Earthly Transformations. Which one do you wish to learn?"

In the original tale, Wukong would have chosen the greater number. However, the guidance of the mysterious celestial had inspired Wukong to aim higher.

As that celestial once said, Wukong's destiny was to defy fate, overturn the heavens, and shatter the cycles of life and death, unbound by rules.

Thus, Wukong resolutely declared,

"Master, I want to learn them all! I want to master the very best!"

Bodhi, stunned by Wukong's bold ambition, smiled with satisfaction.

"Very well! I shall teach you all 108 transformations—the 36 Heavenly Transformations and the 72 Earthly Transformations."

Under Bodhi's guidance, Wukong diligently practiced the transformative arts. Though referred to as transformations, the techniques were, in truth, 108 divine abilities.

In no time, Wukong mastered several Earthly Transformations, such as:

Earth Traversal: Moving swiftly through the ground.

Water Walking: Running freely across the water's surface.

Stone Penetration: Passing through solid stone.

Wind Riding: Traveling with the wind.

Each ability came naturally to him, as easy as eating and drinking.

However, while the 72 Earthly Transformations came easily, the 36 Heavenly Transformations proved much more challenging.

Despite his talent and the aid of the chaotic power within him, Wukong could only master a few of the Heavenly Transformations. Without this innate power, he might have grasped even fewer.

It was then that Wukong realized the stark difference between the two arts.

The 72 Earthly Transformations were easy to learn, versatile, and highly practical, but they lacked overwhelming power. They had a low ceiling yet offered reliable utility.

In contrast, the 36 Heavenly Transformations were incomparably powerful, akin to wielding the majesty of the heavens themselves. They had a high ceiling but were exceptionally difficult to master. Without mastery, even the 72 Earthly Transformations would surpass them in utility.

This revelation spurred Wukong's determination to conquer the Heavenly Transformations. He vowed to break through his limits, no matter the difficulty, to master these supreme divine abilities.

Wukong believed that with his exceptional talent, mastering the 36 Heavenly Transformations was only a matter of time. This gave him immense satisfaction in his earlier choice to learn them alongside the 72 Earthly Transformations.

Moreover, the mysterious celestial who had gifted him the power of chaos years ago had left him with an incredible boon. Over time, this chaotic energy grew stronger within him, operating ceaselessly. According to his master, Wukong's innate spirit and the enhancement of the chaotic power had allowed him to attain the fruit of the Da Luo Golden Immortal realm.

Although Wukong didn't fully understand what being a Da Luo Golden Immortal entailed, his master's astonished expression told him it was something extraordinary. This realization only deepened Wukong's gratitude toward the mysterious celestial.

One day, while playing on the water's surface using the Overturning Water Technique, Wukong suddenly heard Bodhi's voice: "Wukong, how is your flying technique coming along?"

Wukong quickly came to the shore, bowed respectfully, and replied with a grin, "Master, let me demonstrate for you. Please offer your guidance!"

With that, Wukong leaped into the air, using the Wind Riding Technique to circle Mount Fangcun before returning to the ground.

"Master," he said, "this Wind Riding Technique is too slow. I must have made a fool of myself."

Having read the details of the 36 Heavenly Transformations, Wukong already knew of advanced escape techniques like Cloud Surfing, Golden Light Transference, and the Five Elements Escape. He understood that these techniques could achieve unimaginable speeds, such as traveling from the Northern Sea to Cangwu within a single day. Compared to those, his current flying speed seemed unbearably slow.

Bodhi looked at him and asked,

"Why not use the Golden Light Transference or other Heavenly Techniques?"

Wukong lowered his head and admitted, "Master, forgive my dullness. I haven't yet grasped the essentials of these techniques from the 36 Heavenly Transformations."

Bodhi nodded and reassured him,

"There's no need to rush. With your chaotic power, which surpasses even the 36 Heavenly Transformations, you will naturally master all of them when the time is right.

In the meantime, I can teach you a new escape technique as a transitional skill. Would you like that?"

Wukong was overjoyed. "Thank you, Master!"

Seeing Wukong's enthusiasm, Bodhi felt deeply satisfied with his disciple. With Wukong's unparalleled talent and the chaotic power coursing through him, Bodhi believed his student might even reach sainthood one day.

Smiling, he said, "I noticed that when you were flying earlier, you flipped in midair. I shall teach you the art of the Somersault Cloud."

"Master, is the Somersault Cloud fast?"

"With a single somersault, you can travel 108,000 li."

Wukong's eyes lit up with excitement. Though not as fast as the Golden Light Transference, this speed far surpassed his current Wind Riding Technique. He immediately bowed deeply and said, "Thank you, Master, for this precious art!"

As Wukong continued to refine his skills, his strength far exceeded what it had been in the original tale. Meanwhile, Alex left the joyful sanctuary he had called home for years.

After bidding farewell to the reluctant and affectionate group of demonesses he had befriended, Alex set his sights on the celestial heavens, ready to stir things up and embark on his next adventure.

°°°

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