The Monkey King Returns After Five Centuries

"Lingshan, the four disciples of Tang Monk completed their merits, and Buddha personally bestowed titles: Tang Monk as the Virtuous Merit Buddha, Sun Wukong as the Victorious Buddha of Combat, Zhu Bajie as the Purification Altar Emissary, and Sha Wujing as the Golden Body Arhat. The small white dragon, who had been carrying Tang Monk, also successfully transformed into a dragon and was honored as the Dragon Bodhisattva of the Eight Departments. In no time, the entire Lingshan was bathed in radiant Buddha light, with lotus flowers blooming everywhere.

At the foot of Lingshan, a lean beggar looked at the radiant Lingshan with disdainful eyes, accompanied by a subtle trace of imperceptible resentment.

The Three Realms noticed that the Buddha of Combat, who had achieved enlightenment, was indeed different from before. The once impulsive monkey, after attaining Buddhahood, chose to seclude himself for five hundred years. He did not return to Flower Fruit Mountain, nor did he wander around causing trouble as before. Instead, he dutifully stayed at the mountain gate designated for the Victorious Buddha of Combat in Emei Mountain, immersed in deep meditation, resembling a statue in a temple, refraining from worldly affairs.

As time passed, the legend of the Monkey King gradually became just that – a legend. In the Three Realms, except for a few who remembered the audacious monkey, most cultivators only knew that there was a formidable being named the Victorious Buddha of Combat in Emei Mountain.

In Western Niu Hezhou, since Tang Monk and his disciples subdued demons and monsters five hundred years ago, the entire Western Niu Hezhou was left with only Buddhism and its country. All other beings, whether demons or immortals, ceased to exist. Western Niu Hezhou became a land solely inhabited by Buddhist followers.

A frail beggar sat on the ground, his body weakened to the point that he could no longer continue the journey.

"Plop!"

A piece of coarse bread was tossed in front of the beggar. He glanced at it but showed no intention of picking it up.

The woman who offered the coarse bread was around forty years old. Seeing the beggar unmoved, she clasped her hands together and uttered, "Amitabha."

The beggar, upon hearing the Buddhist chant, seemed a bit stirred, but he quickly composed himself, staring blankly at the sky, indifferent to the food before him.

Suddenly, rain poured from the sky. People in the city sought refuge indoors, leaving the beggar sitting motionless, letting the rain wash over him.

After a while, a little girl, holding an umbrella, stood in front of the beggar, sheltering him from the rain.

"Why did you become a beggar? You could become a Buddhist disciple in a temple and avoid enduring wind and sun here, you know?" The innocent girl asked the beggar.

The beggar, who hadn't spoken for a long time, finally broke his silence. His voice was hoarse, revealing a trace of untamed spirit.

"I don't believe he deserves my worship," the beggar said, pointing towards the sky.

The girl's face showed surprise, quickly covering the beggar's mouth, "No, you can't blaspheme the Buddha; you might be burned as a heretic."

The beggar smiled bitterly, choosing not to speak further.

The girl left her umbrella with the beggar and soon a group of people appeared, taking the girl away.

From the passersby, the beggar learned that the Guanyin Temple had accepted a new female disciple with innate Buddha nature. She could invoke the statue of Guanyin Bodhisattva while reciting scriptures, making the reputation of the Guanyin Temple skyrocket.

The beggar looked at the umbrella in his hand, a look of sorrow on his face. He knew that the innocent girl had disappeared.

The beggar gazed deeply into the distant Guanyin Temple, holding the umbrella, and began walking in a direction engraved in his memory.

In the Western Paradise.

Buddha opened his eyes; five hundred years had passed, and his strength remained unchanged. He knew that his power had reached a bottleneck, and time could no longer bring any improvement.

Seemingly recalling something, a compassionate expression appeared on Buddha's face. He formed a hand seal, and golden light emanated from his body. Soon, a monk wearing a kasaya appeared before Buddha, addressing him, "World-Honored One."

This monk was Ananda, one of Buddha's disciples.

"Ananda, is the elixir ready? It has been five hundred years," Buddha spoke slowly.

Ananda respectfully folded his hands and replied with a solemn expression, "Reporting to the World-Honored One, the disciple has been refining the Luminous Fire for five hundred years, but the elixir has not yet taken form. Rest assured, in another two hundred years, it will surely crystallize."

"Two hundred years, well done, well done," Buddha said with closed eyes, as if transforming into a golden statue.

Ananda silently bowed and then gradually disappeared.

"Exhausted... feeling weaker and weaker. D*mn it... Laozi, someday, I, your old Sun, will make you regret this."

The beggar felt his body growing weaker, cursing as he spoke. However, when he mentioned a certain name, he seemed to remember something and forcibly swallowed the words back.

Fatigued from walking, the beggar lay down under a large tree. On the tree, several monkeys curiously observed this unexpected guest, making faces at him.

Waving at the monkeys, the beggar signaled them to come down from the tree. The mischievous monkeys, for some inexplicable reason, seemed unable to refuse the beggar. They descended from the tree in unison, holding various fruits as offerings to the beggar.

The beggar stroked the monkeys in front of him and accepted the fruits they offered, eating heartily.

Juice flowed down the beggar's mouth, making him appear quite disheveled.

"Let's go, my little monkeys. Don't tell anyone you've seen me."

After finishing the fruits, the beggar waved at the monkeys, and they scattered, disappearing in an instant.

In the sky, auspicious clouds drifted by. A faint golden light flashed in the beggar's eyes, then he closed them, falling into a deep sleep under the tree.

In the sky, seated on a lotus platform, Guanyin Bodhisattva suddenly opened her eyes. She frowned, directing her gaze towards the mortal world, but found nothing suspicious.

"Bodhisattva, what's wrong?" Behind Guanyin, a child-like figure spoke. This was Red Boy, a disciple of Guanyin, but now lacking the arrogance he once had, appearing more submissive.

Guanyin shook her head without saying anything. She felt she might have been mistaken. There were few beings left in the Three Realms who could secretly observe her without being detected, and they rarely paid attention to her affairs.

Mount Lingtai, Square Inch Mountain, as the beggar gazed at this familiar place from his memories, deep excitement filled his eyes. After enduring countless hardships, he had finally returned to the location where he originally began his martial arts training.

"Master, your disciple has returned."

The beggar took each step with great effort, staggering towards the Three Stars Cave beneath the slanting moon. It was winter, and the cold weather made the beggar's bare feet turn red. However, he seemed completely impervious to the cold; perhaps, the chill meant nothing to him.

Within the Three Stars Cave, the patriarch Xuputi was in the midst of enlightenment. Having comprehended the intricacies of existence, he was already one of the strongest beings in the Three Realms. However, the more powerful one became, the harder it was to advance, often requiring thousands or even tens of thousands of years for each meditation session.

Xuputi opened his ey