Heaven-Defying Rebel Sage
Chapter 194 - 187: No Turning Back in the Boundless Sea of Suffering

Chapter 194: Chapter 187: No Turning Back in the Boundless Sea of Suffering

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It was said that when the Great Sun Tathagata returned to the Esoteric Sect, he summoned the sect’s masters to challenge Water Curtain Cave.

However, the gates of Water Curtain Cave were tightly closed, and the Myriad Immortals Formation had been activated. No matter how much they were cursed at, not a single demon emerged, nor was a single word spoken in reply. Now, Water Curtain Cave was the leader of the Demon Tribe, and a defeat there was tantamount to the defeat of the entire Demon Tribe. Thus, in Wukong’s absence, it was best to merely defend their stronghold.

Water Curtain Cave had long since changed; because members from various tribes had gathered there, all the great beings with divine powers had moved mountains, controlled rivers, planted spiritual medicines, flowers, and trees, expanding Water Curtain Cave more and more. Nevertheless, each cave abode was equipped with a teleportation formation. In case of emergency, one could teleport directly to the main peak of Water Curtain Cave.

Frustrated by this, the Great Sun Tathagata’s forehead throbbed with veins, but he was powerless to act otherwise. Since the Hong Jun Taoist Patriarch had already decreed that Saints were not to intervene, he naturally did not dare to defy the order. He had to withdraw his forces back to the Esoteric Sect and wait for the right moment when they could finally kill the rebellious Sun Wukong!

Meanwhile, the battle between the Great Tang of the Eastern Lands and Western Heavenly Tianzhu Country was unceasing, with the sky alit with war fires. Fortunately, after Li Shimin’s Reign of Zhenguan, the Great Tang had amassed substantial resources, enabling them to sustain this protracted war. In contrast, the national power of Tianzhu couldn’t match that of the Great Tang, whose people were devout Buddhists and thus neglected their lands as they worshipped Buddha frequently. Furthermore, the Tianzhu emperor was far less wise and capable than Li Shimin. This disparity naturally became evident once they engaged in battle.

After Ksitigarbha King joined the fray, Immeasurable Light Buddha clashed with him twice, suffering defeats each time. The Tang army advanced irresistibly, capturing three strategic cities. Once these fortresses were controlled, a steady supply of provisions and reinforcements could be secured, making them defensible positions for either attack or retreat. Even in the event of peace talks, the Tang army had significantly levered the advantage.

Half of the Buddha Land of the Western Heaven was a desert, but the area occupied by the Tang army was fertile and rich in water resources, a vital section of Tianzhu Country’s food supply. If peace talks were to happen now, while both sides recuperated, the first to recover would undoubtedly be the Great Tang. By then, conquering Tianzhu Country would be even easier. So no matter how difficult it was, the king of Tianzhu vehemently refused peace unless the Great Tang yielded the land.

Where could Li Zhi, this cunning little emperor, consent to such terms? So, the battle raged on, with the Tang army already controlling a quarter of Tianzhu’s territory. With the Great Tang’s national strength, continuing the war for several more years, even a decade, would not be an issue—it would only be a matter of whether Tianzhu could endure it!

Although it was a war between mortal nations, it was intertwined with the fate of both the Buddhist and Taoist paths. If Tianzhu fell, then Buddhism was in peril; if Great Tang were defeated, it would damage their own fortunes.

To contain Ksitigarbha King, there was support from the Medicine Buddha, Pharmacist Buddha, and Peacock Great Bright King Bodhisattva, while the other Buddhas were busy with the plans to rebuild the Spiritual Mount. The battle at Mount Putuo had greatly depleted their energy.

Let’s put this situation aside for now and return to Wukong, who, after experiencing a lifetime of reincarnation, carved the statue of Xuan Ming. Exhausted by the effort, he died.

It began to rain again in Jiangnan.

The drizzling rain struck incessantly, covering Jiangnan with a veil of mist, a place that was beautiful no matter the season. It was truly said: "West Lake in rain resembles the beauty ’Dongpo’ likened to a fair Lady, fitting softly or richly adorned." This layer of misty rain appeared as if light makeup had been applied, veiling a superb beauty with a layer of gauze.

There was a mystical island at the very center of West Lake, rumored to be home to a Bodhisattva.

Sheltering under an umbrella, Wukong gazed across the expansive West Lake and murmured, "It is said that West Lake is boundless; if one were to travel by boat, one might never reach the other side. Much like the Buddhist ’Sea of Suffering,’ turning back is the only shore. Have you laid such a formation here in the lake to test me?"

He borrowed a boat from a boatman, paid with Treasure Banknotes, and then boarded the boat to cross West Lake.

"Young master, West Lake is truly wondrous. If you keep going forward, you will never reach the shore, but should you decide to turn back, you may return to the shore in moments. If you venture too far and lose sight of the shore, do not panic—just turn back. The Bodhisattva on the island wishes not to be disturbed," the boatman reminded Wukong, having received a roll of Treasure Banknotes, equivalent to ten years of his hard work.

Wukong said, "Boatman, I understand."

Having said that, he was already paddling towards the center of the lake.

Seeing Wukong move further away, the boatman shook his head quietly and sighed, "Another fool hoping to meet the Bodhisattva. There must have been a hundred or so people this year alone?"

Wukong paddled the boat towards the middle of the lake and indeed saw a celestial island, but no matter how hard he paddled, he couldn’t reach it.

"Ah!"

Unable to restrain himself, Wukong sighed deeply under the open sky. He didn’t know how much longer he would have to keep paddling—it could be forever—but he was unwilling to give up. Since he had found a trace of the True Spirit of Xuan Ming, he should not abandon his quest.

And so, he paddled towards the celestial island for a month, yet he still had not arrived, not stopping and not willing to stop, without even turning his head once, because he didn’t want to look back. What were these hardships compared to all that Xuan Ming had done for him? His heart was as firm as Mount Tai.

One year.

Two years.

Three years...

Day after day, year after year, with the wind and frost striking his face, ten years had unknowingly passed, and his face was covered with a beard, the marks of time etched on his forehead.

"Nearly there, finally getting closer!" Wukong thought excitedly to himself. Though his clothes were tattered, the gleam in his eyes shone brightly.

The boat slowly approached the shore, and Wukong disembarked.

On the mountain stood a person, a woman.

This woman, too far to make out her face clearly, but Wukong understood—it was her. They looked at each other across the mountain in silence. Imagining that time had not faded, and that their affection had not drifted far. The wind steps seven paces into the rain, where does old sentiment reside? The heart, like polished glass, quietly guarding the sun and moon, is merely the incense of passing years, the texture of memories, not withstand polishing. Five steps beyond the window, the depth of dew grows heavier, tonight the fallen flowers form a mound, and time advances toward the evening.

Wukong walked on, yet found he could not get any closer; was this another test? Yet he was not afraid and continued firmly forward, ascending towards the mountain.

He walked for one year, the person on the mountain watched for one year.

He walked for three years, the person on the mountain watched for three years.

The Sea of Suffering, tossing up love and hatred, making it hard to escape fate in this world...

His gaze was as intense as fire, hers was calm but hinted at tears.

She was the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva must not feel emotion.

He was a mortal. Yet, even mortals possess a steadfast spirit for the Dao.

"Are you tired?" her eyes asked.

"I am not tired," he responded with his own gaze.

How many people bow their heads in search, never to emerge again?

In youth, one always thinks there will be answers to everything, but upon exhaustion, one realizes, what use are so many answers? Useless, utterly useless!

Searching for someone, searching for oneself, slowly drowning in the rivers of life, for life itself is a river, forever seeking you!

The woman with a smile that blossomed like a flower, do you know that your charming smile has been deeply imprinted in my heart?

He walked another ten years, she watched for ten more years.

Such folly, growing endlessly into the infinite, yet indeed persisting, persisting to insanity, in such pursuit that upon seeing you, a layer of oily heartache surfaces and cools down, solidifying... this life, how can a moment of joy justify a lifetime of illusory dreams, for a mere moment’s happiness.

Turning the endless grace into such foolishness and naivety? A life without you is like a color-faded phoenix crown and rosy clouds.

He finally reached the foot of the mountain, she was moved.

"Why are you so persistent?" the Bodhisattva suddenly said.

He didn’t speak but climbed to the summit, standing in front of her.

The Bodhisattva sighed, "Attachment as deep as the abyss, is a boundary entering death; attachment as light as dust, returns fruitlessly and vainly; attachment as tear, it shatters into pieces into the heart, scattering in flight."

Wukong suddenly smiled, "Have I died? Have I returned without accomplishment? Have I shed tears?"

The Bodhisattva paused, slightly shaking her head, "Don’t waste your life any longer, join my Buddhist gateway, transcend to Nirvana."

Wukong laughed, "I am Wukong, who long ago penetrated the emptiness of Buddha’s teachings. I have already become a Buddha."

The Bodhisattva said, "As a Buddha, you should not be so attached. Understand the emptiness."

Wukong said, "When you are on the lotus dais, without movement, you are the Buddha; when the Buddha is in the mundane world, any movement, you are human."

The Bodhisattva shook her head and sighed, "Fate comes as decreed by heaven, fate departs taken by men. Plant such causes, reap such results, everything is created by the mind. Face it with a smile, without complaint, leisurely, following the heart, nature, and fate."

Wukong stepped forward, "I have not complained. Seeking you, is my true heart; finding you, is my cause and effect; awakening you, is my will."

The Bodhisattva stepped back, "The sea of suffering is boundless, turning back is the shore. You have traveled for decades; have you still not understood?"

Wukong took another step forward, shouting, "If the sea of suffering is boundless, how did I cross this sea of suffering?"

The Bodhisattva asked, "Why must you see me?"

Wukong simply said, "Because...I love you."

I love you.

Such mundane three words.

Yet, unless you have heard them or spoken them, you cannot comprehend how much helplessness, how much bitterness, sourness, sweetness, and pain these three words contain.

Before uttering these three words, you must endure a journey long and painful.

After uttering these three words, you must accept the unknown future; will it be sweet? Will it be more painful? Is it helplessness? Or even more bitterness?

Thousands of years ago, many people have said these three words.

Thousands of years later, many will still say these three words.

Whether you say them or hear them, only by experiencing it yourself can you truly understand the helplessness of these three words.

The Bodhisattva put her palms together, her heart trembling so much that her entire body shook, her eyes slightly closed, yet tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes, she murmured, "Maintain a peaceful heart and dedicated spirit, and reach the ultimate path, like polishing a mirror, the dirt removed, brightness remains, sever desires and seek nothing, and attain your predestined fate!"

Wukong pointed towards heaven and bellowed, "The path of the heart resides in one’s true heart, a single thought deviates, errors spread a thousand miles, a tree breaks at its root, naturally perishing! How can something come from nothing? That would surpass the Heavenly Dao! Buddha is beneath the Heavenly Dao, how could Buddha distort his own true heart? I have become a Buddha, I want there to be no creature between heaven and earth that I cannot overcome—I desire, to fight and win!"

He took out a wooden carving from his bosom, placed it on the ground, and said, "This is my true heart!" He then gazed at the Bodhisattva,"Under the Dharma Eye of the Buddha Ancestor, there is nothing false, your true heart, I have seen it! Why suppress your true heart?"

"Xuan Ming!"

Wukong let out a long howl, his eye sockets burst, shedding two lines of blood tears, shouting, "Why not awaken, when else to wait?"

To find out what happens next, please await the next installment. (To be continued. If you like this work, feel free to cast your recommendation vote or monthly ticket at Qidian.com. Your support is my greatest incentive. Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to continue reading.)