Chapter 474: Time Reversal!

Expose the ugly truth of the True and False Monkey King!

The water mirror lit up.

The image was so clear it didn't look like a memory; it looked as if someone had set up a camera on the beam of Da Lei Yin Si, capturing even the dust's trajectory in sharp detail.

Everyone's gaze was forcibly pinned to the mirror surface.

Want to close your eyes?

Can't close them.

Want to turn your head?

Can't turn it.

Bodhi's method is just this simple and brutal; you don't want to watch?

No, you must watch.

In the image, Da Lei Yin Si is resplendent with gold and azure, myriad Buddhas seated on either side, their solemn visages majestic.

The Tathagata sits upright on the highest Liántái, eyelids lowered, left hand forming a seal, right hand holding a golden bowl.

Below, two monkeys kneel.

Same height, same Golden Armor, same Tiěbàng.

Even the frequency of their breaths shows no difference.

This is a scene known to everyone.

True and False Monkey King.

The Three Realms have all heard this story: the Buddha Patriarch discerns truth from falsehood, the Six-Eared Macaque is executed, and the Great Sage returns to the pilgrimage path.

What a wonderful ending.

What a just verdict.

But what the water mirror plays is not that scene from the hall.

The image rewinds three days.

The timeline rolls back to three days before the discernment of true and false.

Behind Ling Shan lies a tranquil bamboo grove.

The Tathagata stands there alone, not wearing a kasaya, only draped in a plain Sēngpáo.

A monkey stands before him.

Six-Eared Macaque.

The Six-Eared Macaque, not yet taking on Sun Wukong's appearance, reveals its true form: a body of gray fur, its six ears twitching slightly.

The Tathagata spoke.

You excel at hearing all sounds under Heaven, can discern all phenomena in the world, and are born as a seed for attentive listening.

The Six-Eared Macaque kneels, forehead to the mud: 'Buddha Patriarch, I dare not; I only wish to cultivate a proper fruition on Ling Shan.'

The Tathagata smiled.

That smile, magnified countless times in the water mirror's high-definition image, makes everyone who sees it feel a chill down their back.

Because that smile holds not a trace of compassion.

Only calculation.

'Proper fruition?'

The Tathagata's voice is soft: 'I give you an opportunity ten thousand times greater than proper fruition.'

All six ears of the Six-Eared Macaque prick up.

'The pilgrimage's guardian, Sun Wukong, you know him, right?'

'I... I know him.'

'He doesn't obey.'

When the Tathagata says these four words, his tone is as flat as if he were mentioning how many bowls of rice he ate today.

'An disobedient pawn is useless; replace it with an obedient one, and the Fómén cause can proceed more smoothly.'

The Six-Eared Macaque shudders all over, lifts its head, eyes full of disbelief.

The Tathagata continues speaking.

'In three days, he will come to Ling Shan to discern true from false. Before then, act while he is unprepared and shatter his Original Spirit.'

'Once you succeed, you will be Sun Wukong.'

'All the merit from the pilgrimage journey, you shall claim.'

'After attaining Buddhahood, the fruition seat shall be yours.'

The image pauses here for a moment.

On the battlefield, not even a sparrow chirps.

The drop of a needle can be heard echoing.

Then the image continues.

The Tathagata takes out a black Mixed Origin Pearl from his sleeve and hands it to the Six-Eared Macaque.

'This is the Mixed Origin Pearl; strike it upon his heavenly crown and his Original Spirit will scatter. When you act, do not hesitate—one strike kills.'

The Six-Eared Macaque's hand trembles as it receives the pearl.

It is not fear.

It is excitement.

The image shifts.

The location changes.

Still the back mountain of Ling Shan, but changed to a more concealed cave abode.

Guanyin Bodhisattva sat on a meditation cushion, holding a pure vase, with a calm countenance.

Opposite her stood a guardian in Golden Armor.

"Bodhisattva, the Buddha Patriarch ordered this servant to deliver a message."

"Guanyin lifted her eyes: 'Speak.'"

"In three days, at the main hall we will discern true from false; we need the Bodhisattva's cooperation."

"How to cooperate?"

"Seal the heavenly secrets. Do not let any deity discern any clue during the identification process. Especially, the Earth Store Bodhisattva's attentive listening must be silenced."

Guanyin's finger lightly traced the rim of the pure vase.

"Understood."

Three words, crisp and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

The scene shifted again.

Above the main hall.

On the day of identification.

Two monkeys knelt in the hall, surrounded by myriad Buddhas sitting upright.

The attentive listener lay prone beside the Earth Store Bodhisattva, ear to the ground, listening for a long time.

Then it raised its head and said a sentence to the Earth Store Bodhisattva.

The water mirror amplified the sound a hundredfold, letting everyone hear it clearly.

"Master, I've discerned it; the one on the left is merely a fake."

The Earth Store Bodhisattva's expression changed; he was about to speak.

Guanyin's gaze swept over.

Just a glance.

The Earth Store Bodhisattva's mouth closed.

The attentive listener lay prone again, making no sound.

What about the other Buddhas in the main hall?

The water mirror's view pulled back, scanning over those seated faces.

Manjushri Bodhisattva half-closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth bearing a faint arc.

Samantabhadra Bodhisattva pressed palms together, chanting sutras without cease, as if self-hypnotizing.

Kashyapa the venerable lowered his head to gaze at the ground, as if a flower had grown there.

No one stepped forward to speak.

No one attempted to expose it.

They all knew.

They all knew.

From beginning to end, this is merely a show put on for the world to see.

The Buddha Patriarch wishes to replace a disobedient pawn; the entire Ling Shan, over a thousand people up and down, know full well and cooperate collectively.

No one felt there was any problem.

The water mirror played to this point; the image began to spread rapidly.

No longer confined to this battlefield.

Bodhi's right hand extended from his sleeve, fingers splayed.

The image was projected to every corner of the Three Realms.

On the market square of Dongsheng Shenzhou, the old man selling buns stared blankly at the huge water mirror appearing in Heaven.

In a village of Southern Zhanbu Continent, the hand of a praying farmwoman holding her prayer beads froze.

The fisherman of Bei Ju Lu Zhou lowered his fishing rod.

The pilgrims of Xiniu Hezhou halted on the temple steps.

Everyone was watching.

They saw it clearly.

As it turns out, the Buddha Patriarch is not a benevolent saint.

As it turns out, Guanyin Bodhisattva is not a living Bodhisattva who saves from suffering.

As it turns out, the faith they have believed, worshipped, and offered to for so many years—the Fómén—is no different from the swindlers cheating on the street.

Hum.

In a certain ancient temple of Southern Zhanbu Continent, the Golden Body of the Tathagata enshrined for three hundred years showed a crack.

The crack split the Buddha statue's forehead down the middle and spread all the way to the base.

With a crackle, the Buddha statue split in half, its gold lacquer falling to the ground.

The presiding monk widened his eyes; the wooden fish in his hand fell to the ground and rolled away far.

It was not just one temple.

Upon the land of Dongtu, the Buddha images in thousands of temples simultaneously cracked.

Some split in half down the middle.

Some directly exploded into fragments.

Some had their gold lacquer peel off in flakes, revealing the cheap clay inside.

Faith Power collapsed before the eyes.

The incense-wish power, vast as mountains and seas, flowed backward and scattered from the direction of Ling Shan, like a burst dam flood that could no longer be contained.

On the battlefield.

The Tathagata lay in the ruins, half his face pressed against the rubble-strewn ground.

His body trembled violently.

Not from pain.

Because that water mirror was stripping bare his most shameful secret, displaying it before all living beings of the Three Realms.

He wanted to open his mouth to explain.

As soon as he moved his mouth, only a hoarse 'huh-huh' escaped his throat.

Bodhi's sealing spell still held.

He could not utter a word.

He could only lie there, enduring the gaze of the whole world.

Sun Wukong stood beside his master, watching those scenes in the water mirror.

His iron staff was planted in the ground, its butt sunk deep into the rubble.

He did not fly into a rage.

He did not roar.

He simply stood there, watching.

Watching the full process of how he had been framed and had heaven and earth switched back then.

Watching those he had once called 'Buddha Patriarch' and 'Bodhisattva' scheming against him behind his back.

His eye sockets grew hot.

A drop of water slid from the corner of his eye, rolled over his cheekbone down his chin, and fell onto the collar of his linked golden armor.

It was not sorrow.

It was relief.

It was the relief of a grievance suppressed for who knows how many years finally being dragged out and laid bare in the sunlight.

A withered hand landed on his shoulder.

The force was very light.

Light as a falling leaf.

Sun Wukong turned his head and met his master's gray eyes.

Bodhi uttered no grand principle, offered no comforting words.

The old man simply patted his shoulder.

"Your days of grievance are over."

Sun Wukong's nose felt sore; he sucked in hard and broke into a grin.

He grinned wide, like a silly monkey.

"Hehe, master, I am not wronged."

"With you here, I am not wronged at all."

Bodhi withdrew his hand and snorted.

"Oily tongue, slick words."

The old man turned, his gaze falling back onto the water mirror.

The images in the mirror continued to play.

Many accounts remain unsettled.

And the sounds from afar grew ever more numerous.

Throughout the Three Realms, the sounds of temples collapsing rose and fell like an earthquake long overdue by ten million years,

was toppling a supremely corrupt faith empire from its foundations.

Bodhi watched all this, expressionless.

Then he spoke.

His voice was not loud, yet it covered the whole heaven and earth.

"Tathagata."

That lump of rotting-flesh-like figure in the ruins shuddered violently.

"The accounts of those years—we have only just turned to the first page."

"You think it's over just like that?"