Great Sage Above Brockton [Worm/Chinese Myth] Sakadagami 2.08

Now we were speaking of the Handsome Monkey King’s triumphant return to his home country. After slaying the Monstrous King of Havoc and wres

Now we were speaking of the Handsome Monkey King’s triumphant return to his home country. After slaying the Monstrous King of Havoc and wresting from him his huge scimitar, he practiced daily with the little monkeys the art of war, teaching them how to sharpen bamboos for making spears, file wood for making swords, arrange flags and banners, go on patrol, advance or retreat, and pitch camp. For a long time he played thus with them. Suddenly he grew quiet and sat down, thinking out loud to himself, “The game we are playing here may turn out to be something quite serious. Suppose we disturb the rulers of humans or of fowls and beasts, and they become offended; suppose they say that these military exercises of ours are subversive, and raise an army to destroy us. How can we meet them with our bamboo spears and wooden swords? We must have sharp swords and fine halberds. But what can be done at this moment?” When the monkeys heard this, they were all alarmed. “The great king’s observation is very sound,” they said, “but where can we obtain these things?”

• Journey to the West, chapter 3 

-x-

As surprising as it was for some to hear, Sun Wukong was no stranger to teaching. Shortly after he was crowned the Monkey King by the simians of Flower-Fruit Mountain, many of them came to him in the hopes of learning some of his greatness. Naturally, he always obliged; he could never refuse his delightful subjects. When he trained under the venerable Master Subodhi in the Cave of the Slanted Moon and Three Stars, he gained a new appreciation for the role of the educator. His old master managed many disciples, not all of equal rank and skill  - especially when compared to him - but held them all to the same standards. Even through the menial labour, the endless repetition, and the absolute perfection Master Subodhi demanded of him, Wukong held nothing but respect for his teacher, even after he was told to leave. A healthy dose of fear, too, but may the heavens turn him into a brothel dancer before he admits it. He still had nightmares of the old sage coming to whack him ten thousand times on his red arse for telling others he was his student.

It wasn’t his fault that the 72 Transformations weren’t exactly common poems sung by street bards! Where else could he have learned them? Denying it further would only prove foolish.

Anyway, add to that his experiences under Master Tang and his fellow pilgrims, and he found a profound understanding of why the role of the teacher was so revered. The honor and duty of passing down knowledge taught since ancient days, the joy of watching your disciples slowly finding their path, and their wide eyes of delight at pulling a trick they never knew about were only a few treasured examples.

But above all those reasons and duties, one stood atop the mountain:

‘I now understand why guilty pleasure is a teacher’s privilege!’

“Recover and strike, disciple! An enemy will give you no pause to breathe, and neither should you! Press onward!”

The reply to his pearl of wisdom was a pointed glare and a flaring in nostrils. After inhaling, Taylor resumed punching the wooden dummy before her. His own creation, made from his hair. Her mortal fists pounded the sacks of rice he had… borrowed from a local vendor, and her focused gaze returned, overshadowing her irritation.  

And right as her punches settled into a rhythm…

The dummy snapped forward and struck her in the face. She fell back with a pained yelp, clutching her forehead and rubbing the small bruise. A hiss crept from her lips as the irritation returned twicefold, as it did throughout the day.

Naturally, he ensured his giggle was loud and clear.

“Remind me again why you rigged the dummy like this?” she grumbled, picking herself up.

“A real opponent is flesh and desperation, dear girl! Not an immobile hunk of wood that accepts your blows! Foes react and counter, and you must adjust the moment they do!”

“...I still don’t like this thing,” she replied and pointed at the wooden device. In addition to the tied-up rice sacks, sets of stubs jutted from its back. If one were to look closer at its base, they’d spot that it was resting on a wooden sphere rather than a flat surface.

“Whether you like it or not is immaterial. I admit, it pales in comparison to the more complex mechanisms my Master Subodhi kept in his palace, but I know this one’s workings well enough to replicate it. I used to train my subjects with devices such as these for years, and they all turned out fine warriors, so you have no excuse.” Wukong leaned backward, crossing his arms as he observed her from atop the westward crate. “Now, repeat! And add some kicks!”

Holding back what he was sure was a curse, despite the brief mollification on her face, Taylor followed his instructions and resumed punishing the apparatus. In the meantime, Wukong nibbled another nacho from his bag and stared at the music player in his hand. Indeed, a gift beyond measure from his generous host and he had enjoyed its musical fruits for days on end. Yet right now it was not the harsh strumming of strings or thunderous beating of drums that garnered his attention, but rather the glowing blue screen.

“The ‘electricity’ is contained fully within the device, yes?”

“It comes from the battery inside, yeah,” she replied as she kept punching. “It travels through paths in the circuit board into the chip.” The dummy shuddered under her kick. 

Wukong nodded and looked at the small pile of scrap next to him. It was a collection amassed from the dumpsters and cast-offs that littered the Trainyard, given newfound educational purpose. On top lay a faded green card inscribed with copper lines, flowing to an empty square spot near the middle. It reminded him of the old bagua formations Venerable Laozi kept experimenting with in his lab, only far more simplified and no hint of ink.

“And when I press the button, a pulse of electricity is sent to this chip?” He asked and pressed a button to open the menu. The novelty of the action never faded, and Peizhi-xiansheng had to coax him from constantly pressing it, lest it break. “And how does it work with our dear host’s device? He only presses a glass screen.”

“Pretty much, and…” Taylor’s face scrunched up in thought. “I’m not sure. I think the screen has tiny sensors that can pick up if someone presses it, and they’re connected to the chip…”

Rice shuddered under her blow, after which she shook her hand. 

“Sorry, I never studied it that much.”

“Fascination to no end,” murmured Wukong, another nugget of insight deposited within his mind. So many new terms and concepts that no mortal alchemist or scholar he knew could conjure up, and not even many immortal ones. “This Old Sun has a great deal to learn - focus on the sides, not just the front. Wings out.”

His disciple narrowed her eyes and, after summoning her golden wings, shifted her stance, trying new blows and attacks while staying light on her feet. Allowing himself a smile of satisfaction, Wukong returned to his musing and picked out two frayed wires from the pile. Its colored casing had grown stained and withered to near nonexistence, but the faint gleam of copper was still visible. 

‘Copper pots cook faster and trap heat for longer. The same principle seems to apply for electricity.’ He brushed his fingers against the wire. ‘Specks of charged matter moving around the wire, traveling at divine speeds. Piecemeal fragments of creation, harnessed not by sorcery, but from pure understanding of nature. Lightning stripped down to its purest and basest form. Heh, I suppose when one cannot grasp the higher mysteries of the realms beyond, they instead gaze upon the reality of the earthbound and lay it bare.’

As an enlightened being, Wukong was very much aware that the material world worked through forces unseen by most. It was part of his instruction and a key component of learning the Dao, to listen and feel the changes of the world. But his foundations were based upon abstract conceptualization and the mechanisms of the heavens. While he had a decent grasp of the more physical aspects of cultivation and the Dao, he never once had thought of delving into the whys and hows of it. 

It was… humbling, in a way. ‘And under my nose this whole time. I never bothered to observe, and why would I? When the power of qi, magic, and the heavens are at your fingertips, you need not concern yourself with the workings of the lower realms.’ He glanced at a streetlight on the edge of the makeshift training yard. With his sharp ears and Golden Eyes, he honed in on the object and listened to its resonant hum. Fireflies trapped in glass cages, he once thought, but what a fool he was. Flickering specks, spiralling around cords of metal, up and down their destined path. Electrons, he remembered Taylor calling them, particles revolving around a unit of mass so small even his Golden Eyes couldn’t perceive them called atoms. Nature’s essence in its smallest form, wrenched from the order of the cosmos through nothing more than understanding and clockwork precision, used to engineer devices ranging from a simple lamp to his wondrous music box. 

‘I will know more. Nay, I must know more. When the gods and demons turn their noses up at the lesser beings, I shall learn from them and cackle at their awe and despair.’

“Gah! Fucking-stupid wooden-ah!”

Understandable. “Carry on. This time, apply my other lesson. Do you recall the Ordeal of Fleeting Impressions?”

“You mean when you turned your hairs into basketballs and threw them at me like a pitching machine?” she deadpanned as she rose, the fall dispelling her wings.  

“Do you desire a refresher?” he asked in his most innocent tone. “I have this exciting new technique I learned from observing some of those ruffians -”

“Ah, no! No, it’s fine.” She hurriedly exclaimed with widened eyes. “I just don’t know what else to do. You didn’t place a timer or anything on this thing, and I can’t react fast enough to it.”

“That is precisely the point, dear girl!” He raised his finger high. “If you cannot predict the unpredictable, you must brace for it! Most times, foreknowledge of your foes will only reveal itself throughout the fight and not before. Match them not with a defence or offense beyond your grasp, but with their own actions! Push them aside, force them to exhaust their strength if need be, and when their guard is down-” He punched the air with a single, unwavering motion. “End it.”

Taylor’s frustrated rictus slowly dulled as he spoke, then she turned to the dummy with hesitance. Wukong smiled, though not out of malice; her fear was natural. A lesson rarely sinks in the first time it is taught. Before he could throw in a few supportive words, she steeled herself, stepped forward, and renewed her assault. Wings flaring behind her once more, they hummed with every flow of her limbs. Her attacks were methodical but relentless, her pace increasing steadily. Wood buckled under her blows, but remained ever-steadfast.

The dummy tilted back, the barest crawl of a pinky, flew forward -

-and flew to the side, courtesy of Taylor’s crossed arms. She then spun in place, using the wings to slash at the dummy fourfold. It tilted back, creaking loudly before snapping into place with a wobble. 

“Much better,” Wukong said, his smile breaking into a full grin. He leaped from the crate and walked over to Taylor. “May I?” he asked with outstretched arms. Taylor blinked in surprise, but then quickly nodded. “Adjust your arms so they do not lock in immediately, but slide for a bit.” He grabbed her arms and positioned them as he said. “Spread out your palms to catch the incoming blows.” He pushed her fingers apart and then lightly pushed her legs. “And your knees must become the bamboo stalk; flexible yet implacable. This will direct your opponent’s momentum into the ether instead of entirely into your body.” Finally, he stood behind her and pulled back her elbows. “Once a foe is trapped by his body’s impulses, the opportunity to strike will reveal itself.”

Bafflement never left his dear disciple, but understanding slowly dawned above her cliffs of ignorance.

“Are you ready to try again?”

“Yeah… I think I am,” she replied. Wukong smiled and, with a wave of his hand, the dummy began to bob back and forth. 

“Catch and parry, O disciple. Let the stream flow around you. Oh, and do not neglect your qi; keep its flow slow and steady.”

Taylor nodded and began react to her opponent, slowly improving with every hit and miss. As she swatted and palmed the dummy, Wukong fixed his Golden Eyes on her wings. Qi flowed from their tips into her body, sending out brilliant pulses in the hidden realm. Her apparition hovered above her, shifting with every pulse of qi. Its form had not taken on anything beyond the barest resemblance of an insect, and Wukong couldn’t help but frown internally. The apparitions were still a quandary he had yet to solve, and he lacked the means to do so in-depth. Direct observation of the one before him was much more promising than spying on others from afar, though the one belonging to the bandit with the thunder-weapon - no, the gun - was peculiar. Long, thin arms with needles thinner than hair strands, it was quite intriguing. The spirit had actually stung him in combat, though he felt only a minor discomfort. A draining power perhaps? 

‘Eh, irrelevant for now. If that was the extent of his abilities, Taylor should have no issue dealing with him.’

The dummy’s speed began to increase, and with it, Taylor’s deflection grew harsher and fiercer. Qi rapidly circulated in her body as her wings drew more and more of the quintessential force in, along with the ritten, vile cloud -

“Cease!” 

Taylor froze as Wukong grasped her arm and halted the dummy with the other. Her breath came out lurching, and Wukong sighed in relief as the foul qi circled around them but never touched Taylor’s golden wings. 

“Disciple, have you been practicing qi circulation without my knowledge?”

Taylor ducked her head, but steadfastness remained even in her diminished glare. Wukong tutted and let her arm go.

“A master only walks across water when he knows he will not sink. I know you are eager to progress, disciple, but you cannot allow that desire to blind you to the consequences of rushing through the practice.”

“But I feel it all the time now!” she exclaimed and crossed her arms. Her wings shuddered with her words. “Every time I punch or do anything, I feel it around my skin. If I lose focus, it goes away. I’m never gonna be able to beat the Empire if I stay at this level.”

“Already taking on my quest with gusto?” Wukong chuckled. “Admirable, but you will do little good if you charge headfirst into the snake’s den while poison runs through your veins. It’s unfortunate, but you must take care to regulate your circulation. I doubt you wish to succumb to another attack.”

She shivered at the reminder, but maintained her frustrated stance as she kicked a stray pebble and her wings dissipated into golden leaves. “I’m just tired of sitting back and doing nothing. I’ve got powers and you’re training me, and I know I can’t fight for shit right now…” She sighed and brushed back her hair. “It’s driving me kinda insane.”

“When you encounter a real enemy, you will peer through the fog of memories and wish to return to these simpler times. Dump your insanity in the sanctity of the training yard and reserve a cool head for battle, for the world is not so forgiving in such circumstances.”

His disciple exhaled again and sent him a pointed side-glare. “I like riddles and similes, but you lay it on way too thick at times.”

“How else would you learn such valuable lessons?” he retorted. Riddles and proverbs were essential to any foundational education, and may King Yama trap him in the 18 Hells before a disciple of his failed to answer a riddle!

Wukong stepped back and let the dummy sway. “Again, no wings. Parry with your feet as well, and focus only on the half so the rest may act.”

Her shoulders slumped momentarily, but nonetheless she returned to her practice with fierce abandon while he hopped back on the crate. An hour or so later, when the winter sun had begun to set, Wukong was scrolling through the assortment of songs Peizhi had prepared for him when he took notice of the time. 

‘Already?’ he thought with alarmed eyes widening. ‘Old Sun, you must whack your awareness back into shape!’

“Disciple!” he called out, leaping in front of her. “We are done for today. Gather your things so we may leave posthaste!”

Taylor blinked and glanced at him inquisitively, but donned her jacket without complaint. Once her water bottle was back in her hand, Wukong snatched her up and they leaped right back to Peizhi’s shop. Once there, though, he only dropped her off at the doorstep rather than going inside. 

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“An urgent appointment!” he replied and jumped to the rooftops. He hopped across buildings, cursing his ignorant self for not noticing the time. A few jumps later though, he landed right atop a streetlamp, gazing at the Willow Tree Park.

Peizhi and Taylor had told him its official name, but he didn’t care. He named it Willow Tree Park, and so it was.

‘This Old Sun is not too late, thank Amitabha,’ he thought as he stared at the mortals lounging around, even under the cloak of the winter evening. ‘They should be here any minute now.’ Now, this would normally be a moment where he would devote his complete attention, but alas, for all his wisdom and keenness, Sun Wukong was still a monkey, and such creatures get distracted by the most minute of things. Case in point, he looked down at the streetlamp he was perched on and listened to the humming of electricity. Bending down and using his tail to ensure his footing, he felt it rushing underneath the flaked metal, in and out of the lightbulb.

‘The current and power are far stronger than the music player. This much power, cycling through a simple lamp…far weaker than a lightning bolt, but nothing to scoff at; a current this strong can kill a mortal several times over if exposed, and I’ve witnessed enough of them struck by the heavens to know. Yet, for all its marvel, this is still energy.’ His hold clenched and he reached out with his senses. ‘Lightning is beyond my skillset to produce, but I have guided flames. I wonder…’

Wukong felt his qi flow from his palms and into the lamp. The rush of the lightning current seemed to thrum in his palms, despite touching only metal. With gentle care, he slowly began to coax it; an ebb here, a wave there. Nothing too strong, but just enough to grasp and pull.

‘Oh, how exciting for this Old Sun!’

He reached out again, the metal creaking under his hold, going for one more pull -

“Wukong! Guys, it’s Wukong, he’s up there!”

The excited voice broke his concentration and the lightning slipped past his ethereal fingers. After blinking, he looked down and smiled at the sight of young Thao pointing upwards, drawing his favorite gaggle of children around him, all bundled up in winter clothes and jackets. With additional company too!

“Hello and a fond evening to you, dear children!” he exclaimed and jumped down before the willow tree. The moment his feet touched the grass, the children rushed toward him with wide, happy smiles.

“Did you really fight the Nazis?” asked Thao. “I saw it on Mom’s phone! She tried to hide it, but it was so cool!”

“Yeah! You whacked ‘em and whacked ‘em like-” Rin mimed a staff over his friend’s head. “And there were those ghosts, they were everywhere-”

Mei, adorned with a woolen cap that smothered her twin-tails, shoved her brother aside and stared at him with starry eyes. “How did you summon those clones? I thought your staff was your power!”

“It was like the stories Nana told me,” fair Bǎihé uttered softly. Her blue earmuffs gave the impression of hairbuns. “I was scared when they s-stabbed you, but it didn’t work and you kicked the bag guy’s b-butt.”

Thao mock-gasped and pointed at the girl. “Rin! She said butt!”

“Girls can say things like kicking butt too!” Mei argued, almost shoving her face into her brother’s. “She can probably kick your butt!”

“She’s got a point,” said Rin with a toothy grin. “Remember when you wanted to watch Ward Adventures and fought you for the remote? You were all-”

“I had something in my eye!” Thao yelled, red-faced. Mei gave a triumphant look and the other children giggled. 

“Are you a hero, Mr. Wukong? Did the cape hurt you?” asked a child from the back. There were a small handful of new faces, effectively doubling the young retinue’s usual crowd. They all bore the same cautious and excited look he’d seen on Thao before their little game of ball. No doubt their parents had cautioned them against approaching him.

“Well, this Old Sun has certainly been called a hero many times in his past, and I will say that ruffians have the most unfortunate luck of crossing my path, but such is their karma for their misdeeds, which I am only too happy to deliver.” He bowed with a hand over his chest and fluttered his robes dramatically, causing their gold linings to glint against the manmade light. “As for my health, do not worry your young minds, dear children. This Old Sun did not face the Heavens just to fall to some armored thug with cheap tricks. Why, I merely toyed with him until my Rising Bamboo technique struck him where every man hurts!”

A wave of giggles erupted from the youths, though he caught Rin and another boy crossing their legs at the reminder of the, ahem, injury he’d inflicted on Crusader. 

“But remember, children! All’s fair in war, but friends should preserve each other’s dignity!” He sent a pointed but amused glare at Mei, who blushed at the apparent calling-out. ‘Ah, so she’d planned something similar against her dear brother?’

“But for Nazis it's good, right?”

He perked up at the familiar voice and snapped his gaze to the park. His smile grew wider as he waved the newcomer over. “Why, greetings and blessings to you, dear Missy! What brings you under the willow tree in this fair corner of the city?”

“I was looking for some food when I saw you show up,” the straw-haired girl replied as she walked over, drawing the attention of the other children. 

“‘Tis always important to remember your meals. Did any dish hook your nose yet?”

She shrugged, crinkling her dark-green jacket. “No, but I was thinking of some dumplings. There’s a great place down the street that makes them, and they also sell pork buns.”

“Oh, sounds lovely! I admit, meat is not my preferred dish, but I cannot deny the appeal of piping hot baozi with steamed vegetables!” He licked his lips as memories of campfires began to swim before him. ‘Oh, the treasures of Heaven for a dish of Wujing’s baozi…’

“Who are you?” asked Thao, narrowing his eyes at her. Rin crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, while Baihe and Mei glared at the boys for their rudeness.

“How rude of me!” Wukong exclaimed and gestured to the girl. “Children, this is my friend Missy. Missy, these dear children are my friends and game partners.”

“How do you know him?” asked Mei, a great deal more polite than her brother. “I’ve never seen you around when he comes here.”

“We met at a bookstore,” Missy replied. “He asked me to recommend him some, but he ran off before I could show him.” She crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. “For a hero, that was really rude, y’know?”

Wukong chuckled and rubbed the back of his mane. “Yes, that was rather rude of me.” He pinned his arms to the sides and bowed low from his waist. “This Old Sun deeply apologizes for his behavior. Alas, an urgent matter had come up which I couldn’t ignore. I would not have left such a riveting conversation otherwise. I beg your forgiveness.”

“Yeah, I heard. It was all over the internet. My…friends couldn’t shut up about it.” A shadow passed over her face, but left as quickly as it came. “I knew Shadow Stalker was shady for a Ward, but I didn’t think she’d go so low as to bully someone. Is the other girl okay?”

Wukong smiled, touched at her concern. “Put your mind at ease, dear Missy. The girl you speak of is in full health, I can personally attest to that. Her trust, however, is another matter, and hers alone.” 

“I can’t believe a hero did that,” Bǎihé whispered, clutching at her coat. “Mom didn’t let me see it, but everyone said it was really scary. But why?”

Wukong sighed in dismay. He would’ve preferred to avoid such topics, but alas, life was never so kind. “Unfortunately, one who sits atop a throne may become so allured by the sky, they forget the earth below their feet. Shadow Stalker, as you call her, had grown drunk on the wine of power and believed it gave her the authority to tread on those she deemed lesser. The girl might not have even been the first to suffer her attention.”

“B-but heroes can’t be bad!” a boy cried out, wincing at the sudden attention. “M-maybe she did something wrong, but that doesn’t mean she’s all bad!”

“Heroes are as human as you or your friends,” Wukong replied with a firm yet gentle tone. “And humans can be disposed toward good or evil, regardless of whether they have powers or not. But do not blame power, dear children, for it is akin to blaming a hammer; it can be both a weapon and a tool. The only thing that matters are the hands that wield them.”

Thao and his friends let out a collective ‘oh’ at his nugget of wisdom, Amitabha bless them. Missy stared at them with similar amusement, though he didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered to him. 

“Well, enough sage wisdom!” Wukong clapped, breaking the contemplative silence. “I believe we are all here for something far more cheerful! Can anyone tell me what?”

“Ooh! Story, story!” exclaimed Thao and Rin simultaneously. “What are you gonna tell us this time? Is it another wolf? A new monster?”

Wukong couldn’t help but laugh merrily at their pure enthusiasm. Even the new children, cautious as they were, clearly looked interested. “Patience, patience! This Old Sun has plenty of stories hidden in his robes, do not fret!”  

“So you really tell stories?” asked Missy. “What kind?”

Gesturing to the ground before them, Wukong gave her his most inviting smile. “Why don’t you come and join us? All will be revealed then.”

Missy hummed loudly, looking back and forth between himself and the streets, then shrugged. “Okay. Sounds kinda fun, actually.” She sat herself down, and the rest of the children quickly followed. Thao and Rin took the front, as they always did. Mei and Bǎihé found themselves drawn to Missy, while the rest sat behind them. An eager crowd worth more than any Imperial court.

Wukong took a moment to savor the sight of the young ones, sitting before him and eager to learn. His monkey subjects were always thrilled to hear of his adventures, and these children were no different.

‘Time to set the stage.’

He picked up a bundle of fallen willow leaves and blew on them, sending them dancing in the air with golden trails. Awed cries left the children, and Missy stared at them with her own muted wonder.

“Deep in the misty highlands, where the mountains meet the plains, there lived a widow and her daughter in a woodshed. Her husband had died moons ago in a great battle, leaving them to fend for themselves. The mother sold pancakes in the nearby village, leaving the girl to the responsibilities of the household. She cooked meals, fed their sole chicken, ground grain and gathered firewood. They still clung to hope for a better future, though dark days would come.”

He exhaled and from his mouth, mist streamed out and surrounded them. Bǎihé and another girl flinched at the sight of his magic, but the others gasped in amazement. 

“Ceaseless rains had worn their humble wooden shack, long neglected despite the daughter’s meagre efforts. The father was no longer around to fix and teach, and they were worried for their home. They were right to do so, for after a particularly rainy night, the ceiling beams rotted through and their roof caved in.” He smacked his palms together and hissed through his teeth, causing the audience to gasp. “They were left homeless, surviving only thanks to the mercy of the nearby village.”

Mei began to frown, and Wukong snatched another leaf from the ground. “One day, when the daughter searched through the ruins of her home, she spotted a beautiful mushroom, vibrant and capped with dew like a shining porcelain bowl.” He blew on the leaf and it transformed into a pure red mushroom, with a cap that almost covered his hand. Sheer surprise overcame the group and they all leaned in to look closer, save Missy, who stared at the mushroom with wariness.

“She could not bear to pluck such a precious plant, so she sheltered it with straw and tended to it daily. Her mother had returned to making pancakes for their livelihood, but she required the daughter’s help more than ever, leaving her no time for friends or play. So all of her secrets, her dreams and fears, she whispered to her mushroom under its little straw hut.”

He laid the mushroom down with careful hands and gathered earth around it so it would not fall, enchanting the crowd with every motion. 

“Alas, as weeks passed, the widow’s health had taken a turn for the worse. She needed money for medicine, and time was running out. She summoned her daughter, and with heavy hearts, they decided to sell what remained of their house, hoping that whatever meagre price they would receive would be enough. Fortunately, a wealthy neighbor, who a friend of the deceased husband, offered to buy the house. However, his wealth had turned him stingy and he tried to exploit the widow’s illness to lower the price. He spread lies and falsehoods about the women, scaring away potential buyers and harassing them. The grief and anxiety drove the daughter to hide in the woodshed and cry, spilling her heart and soul to the mushroom.”

Missy’s fists clenched at her side and Wukong held back a smile. Yes, she would feel strongly about it considering her earlier words.

“Yet days later, something strange occurred at the greedy neighbor’s house. Overnight, mushrooms had sprouted all over the walls and floors with no apparent reason. He was most dismayed to see his precious home defiled by the lowly plants!”

He blew on the mushroom again and it sprouted into a three-capped mushroom and clapped his cheeks in faux-despair, eliciting more giggles.

“When he ordered his servants to clear them away, they discovered a large, eerie mushroom clinging to the main beam of the house, neither green nor yellow, reaching over a chi in height!” Wukong lifted his hand high up and their eyes followed. “When they tried to cut it down with sharp sickles, the mushroom rose into the air, opened its cap, and floated above them like a paper lantern!”

More leaves danced above, and Rin tried to catch one in his hands, only for it to slip away.

“Once it hovered above the greedy neighbor, it shook itself in the air and fell upon his head,” he smacked his fist again. “Crushing him on the spot!” They gasped again and he continued. “From the mushroom, countless spores filled the air and knocked the servants down to the ground, sending them fast asleep.”

He tapped the mushroom and faint dust popped from it. Thao scooted back while Bǎihé clung to Mei. 

“Then, to everyone’s surprise, the mushroom began to crawl out of the ground, sprouting gangly limbs. The mother and daughter froze when they approached, but instead of attacking, the newborn guai directed them to their house. There, the mushroom bloomed under straw still gleaming with dew. The guai helped the two women pack their scant belongings and left the village, disappearing into the mountains in search of a better life, never to be seen again.”

Taking a deep breath, the storytelling monkey sat down cross-legged and raised a clawed finger. “So do not demean or insult your neighbors, no matter how ragged or rich they are. You know nothing of them and the hardships they face. If their ire is directed at you, then always keep a good mushroom near you.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter, all traces of hesitation erased. Wukong dipped his head over and over as they heaped their praises unto him, enjoying every peal of joy that rang in his ears. 

“Okay, that was impressive. No, that was amazing!” exclaimed Missy, sporting a huge grin. “You can do that with your powers? But how?”

Wukong scoffed and waved his hand. “Twas nothing impressive. Mere parlor tricks I picked up. Not much useful in combat, but very entertaining, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Heck yeah! Wow, you’ll put every school reading time out of business if you keep this up.” 

“When one has traveled beyond the seas and across the earth, it would do well for him to never forget such tales, so he must recite them until they appear before him with every word.”

The children began peppering him with questions, asking about the monsters and wanting to see the mushroom again. But as Wukong began to answer, a sharp movement caught his eye from the edge of the park. He gazed at the small line of concerned adults, who held phones or stared with worry, going down the line until he came upon a rather nervous-looking man with rural features. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and a heavy brown coat settled on his shoulders. When their eyes met, the man’s countenance widened and nearly jumped out of his clothes before running away.

Not an unfamiliar reaction to the Monkey King. But while others in this city merely shied away, greeted, or attacked him, he hadn’t had anyone actually run for the hills. He reasoned it had to happen at some point…

‘But why does it feel like I’ve seen that terror before?’

Perhaps on the faces of the ABB criminals? ‘Could he be an agent, reporting to his masters of my whereabouts? Hmph, if they try to harm these children to get to me, I shall deliver unto them a punishment worthy of the 18 Hells!’

But there was something… not fond per say, but knowing about the man’s gait and shock. For the life of him, he couldn’t tell what it was.

“So, uh, Mr. Wukong?” he blinked and saw Missy standing before him, confused. “You good?”

He smiled and rose from his seated position, gently prying a child’s hand off his robe. “Just lost in memories, my dear. So, I take it you will join us again for the next telling?” 

“If you can keep telling more stories like that? Da-er, darn straight I will!” she replied, covering up her swearing as Mei sharply turned to her. “I think I now owe you a year’s worth of book reports. My friends are gonna drill me to the ends of the earth when they see the ten A+’s I’m gonna get.”

Book report? “Ah, the study of literature! This Old Sun is honored you would consider his humble tales worthy of literary study! If you come by again, then I shall grace your ears with stories unheard by mortal ears!”

She whistled and crossed her arms. “Wow, you go all in on the cosplay, don’t you? You must’ve aced all your drama classes. But yeah, you can count me in for storytime.” 

“Cosplay? I’ve heard that word several times now, but what does it mean?” Wukong asked curiously.

“Uh, what you’re doing right now? Playing dress-up and acting out lines based on someone or something?”

“I shall take that as a compliment! I have played many roles and worn many different faces, all of them fooling even the sharpest eyes! But know that this Old Sun before you fakes nothing! The monkey you see is as genuine as the moon and stars on a clear night!”

Missy rolled her eyes, but her smile never dropped. Then her eyes widened and she reached inside her coat pocket. “Oh, that reminds me!”

She pulled out a folded note and handed it to him. Opening it, he saw a list of names. 

“When I saw the news report, I felt kinda bad for getting angry at you, so I wrote down all the recommendations I wanted to give you, even ones I saw you dig out but you just dropped. They’re all stocked in that bookstore, so if you want to buy them or go to the library, it shouldn’t be a problem. I talked to the owner and he seems pretty chill about the whole thing.”

A library? In the city? Oh, wondrous news! The last library he’d visited had kicked him out! How was he supposed to know those scrolls were silk? 

He read the note, taking note of the names. Indeed, they were all fascinating titles, though he knew not to judge them solely on that merit. His fingers brushed over another name and he paused, reading it in its entirety. It was written in messy, tiny Hanyu, with a small note in English next to it.

西遊記. Journey to the West. The bookshop’s owner helped me translate the title, just in case.

…how odd.

Stuffing the note in his robes, he bowed again to Missy, this time out of pure gratitude. “This Old Sun thanks you again my dear, and shall endeavor to repay your mercy and kindness tenfold!”

“Um, thanks! You don’t need to bow!” she stammered, shooting glares at the giggling children behind her. But Old Sun didn’t listen, excited at the thought of learning more books and sharing his findings with his disciple, who was bound to know more about these tales of her homeland.

What a fun day this had shaped up to be! Brockton Bay, you hide true treasures beneath your mired skin, and this Old Sun shall learn them all!

-x-

“Are you certain of this information?”

“My sources are rather thorough. Provide me an email address and I’ll send everything over.”

“Forgive me if I don’t immediately consider your generous assistance.”

“Is not believing in ‘the cause’ and wanting to assure the prosperity of my city a good enough reason?”

“Not when done with such anonymity and accosting one of my men.”

“Apologies, but you don’t exactly have a direct line and this information has to be heard by you alone. The courier did his job well enough.”

“You are treading on thin ice. You’ve given me no reason to believe the credibility of what you’re offering.”

“Do you not wish to act even if there’s a small chance if it’s true? Two of your best men were humiliated in public, with one sitting bound in a padded cell. The rivals you thought vanquished are still scurrying around, not knowing their time has ended. I’m giving you a chance to end those problems here and now, if not gain further insight on when and where to strike, considering your remaining eyes and ears have fled the district.”

“...what is your price?”

“Nothing but a guarantee that if you choose to act on this information, you do it with extreme prejudice. Consider it a donation from a concerned citizen, if nothing else.”

“...you better hope we never meet face-to-face. I’ve killed for far less disrespect than your jibes, and I do not appreciate such veiled insults.”

“Then I shall send it to your address and retreat into the comforts of my home, where we hopefully shall never meet again. Once again, I thank your efforts to cleanse the city and establish order. With luck, both of your eyesores will disappear and things will only improve.”

“Hmph. On that, we can agree.”