Chapter 10: Sun Wukong Becomes a Disciple and Learns the Arts

Meanwhile, in another parallel realm.

Sun Wukong stepped through the gate of immortality, only to find himself surrounded by a world blanketed in snow. The monkey was immediately stunned. He clearly remembered that just moments ago, it had been the height of summer, with the scorching sun baking the earth as if it might roast it alive. He had only stayed at the Immortal Lord’s farm for two or three days, so how could the mountains suddenly be enveloped in endless snow and ice?

This was truly uncanny!

Wearing only thin clothing, the monkey shivered and cried out in the cold. He wanted to turn back, but the immortal gate had vanished like a phantom.

Well, returning to the Immortal Lord's farm was impossible now.

Heh! Old Sun’s fur is thick and warm; why fear the cold? Without delay, he followed the Immortal Lord’s instructions and went in search of Patriarch Bodhi to become his disciple.

The monkey was clever enough; braving the wind and snow, he stumbled along and asked a few passersby, finally discovering the location of Spirit Platform Mountain.

At the foot of the mountain, white mist curled about, the peaks sculpted in ice—a perfect place for meditation and cultivation.

Sun Wukong ran forward with delight.

Upon reaching Spirit Platform Mountain, he noticed an elderly man with snowy white hair sweeping the deep snow from his doorstep.

Excited, the monkey hopped over and called out loudly, “Old man, old man, hello! Is this Spirit Platform Mountain?”

A monkey suddenly leaping out, behaving so strangely and rudely, calling “old man” without a hint of respect, made the elder quite displeased. His expression darkened as he demanded, “Where have you come from, wild monkey? What is your purpose here?”

Uh… the old man seemed angry. But why? He hadn’t offended him, had he? Perhaps his reckless behavior had annoyed the elder?

That must be it!

Sun Wukong’s monkey eyes rolled quickly, and he bowed hurriedly. “Ah, sir, please forgive me for my earlier rudeness. My surname is Sun, and my name is Sun Wukong. I have come to seek Patriarch Bodhi to learn from him. Could you tell me if this is Spirit Platform Mountain?”

“You are called Sun Wukong? Hmm, a well-chosen name, carrying a touch of Buddhist destiny, very meaningful. I am Bodhi himself. But you, monkey… sigh…”

Heavens! It was as if a flood had swept through the Dragon King’s temple.

This old man sweeping snow was none other than Patriarch Bodhi, master of the Cave of Three Stars on Spirit Platform Mountain!

Disaster! He had inadvertently offended him; surely this would not end well.

Sun Wukong thought quickly and knelt down, calling out, “Patriarch Bodhi, I apologize for my ignorance and disrespect. Please forgive me, and accept my apology.”

“Master, please accept me as your disciple! I have crossed mountains and rivers, braved the elements, all for the sake of becoming your apprentice!”

Bang, bang, bang!

Sun Wukong performed three kneelings and nine bows, his sincerity evident.

But Bodhi was unmoved, looking coldly at the kneeling monkey. “Stop kneeling. Even if your bowing caused the heavens and earth to collapse, I would not accept you as my disciple.”

“Why? Master, why won’t you take me as your disciple?”

Just as the Immortal Lord had foretold. His uncanny foresight was extraordinary—predicting what had not yet happened, strategizing with ease, truly a high being.

Patriarch Bodhi indeed refused to take him as a disciple at first.

Yet Sun Wukong had already apologized!

Was this old man so petty? How could he be a transcendent sage with such a narrow heart?

Bah!

This old man was truly difficult.

The ground was freezing cold; his legs were nearly numb from kneeling.

Huff!

The monkey grumbled inwardly.

Bodhi had no further words for him, turning away and leaving.

“Master…”

Sun Wukong continued kneeling all the way to the doorway.

Bodhi had vanished.

Should he get up, or keep kneeling? Sun Wukong felt conflicted.

The Immortal Lord had instructed him: kneel for three to five days, and the patriarch would surely accept him.

But the Immortal Lord had not warned him that kneeling for days in this snowy winter might freeze him to death.

No, to be precise, it might kneel the monkey to death.

“Hehe! Senior brothers, come look! There’s a monkey here!”

After kneeling for a while, Sun Wukong noticed a few disciples gathering around him, curious and laughing as they discussed him.

Sun Wukong was annoyed—what a bunch of country bumpkins, had they never seen a monkey?

Well, they had seen monkeys, but never one so large, dressed in human clothing, and behaving so much like a person.

“Hey, where did this wild monkey come from? Seeing you kneel, are you hoping to become our master’s disciple?” a chubby one asked.

Whenever he was called a “wild monkey,” Sun Wukong grew inexplicably angry.

Your father is a wild monkey, your mother is a wild monkey, your whole family is wild monkeys.

He was about to curse them, when he noticed that the chubby disciple had a pair of shiny black horns growing from his head.

Uh… a person with horns?

Bah, that’s no person! Is he a bull-man, or a man-bull?

He certainly looked like some kind of hybrid.

“Uh… what exactly are you?” Sun Wukong blinked his monkey eyes in curiosity.

The chubby one instantly grew angry and muttered, “You damned monkey, you’re the thing here! Monkey, listen up—I’m not a thing. I come from Thunder Mountain and gave myself a fierce and imposing name: Bull Demon King.”

“Thunder Mountain? Bull Demon King? Heh, your name rolls off the tongue; Old Sun likes it.”

“Bah! Who cares if you like it? You’re just a wild monkey who hasn’t awakened.”

“You…”

Hiss!

The monkey was so angry, he nearly exploded. He wanted nothing more than to beat the chubby one up.

“Who’s making such a racket outside? Noisy!”

“Ah! It’s the master! Run!”

The disciples scattered.

Sun Wukong looked left and right, but saw no one approaching.

Huff!

The monkey felt miserable.

Would he really have to kneel for three to five days? Such a long time—he wondered whether he could endure it.

But the Immortal Lord said: Seven days at most.

If, after seven days, the patriarch still refused to accept him, he’d have no choice but to slink back to the Immortal Lord’s farm.

So conflicted! His face twisted in frustration.

The first day passed, full of disappointment.

On the second day,

Sun Wukong remained kneeling, maintaining his posture.

He was cold and hungry.

But he dared not rise, fearing that if the patriarch saw him standing, he would think him insincere, and all would be lost.

Fortunately, he had pilfered many good things from the Immortal Lord before leaving; secretly nibbling on them kept his belly satisfied.

Delicious, chewy little white rabbit milk candies—rich and flavorful, though every bite made him wince with regret.

Still, it was worth it.

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