When Sun Wukong opened his eyes, he heard the roaring mountain wind in his ears and the sky above his head that had not changed in five hundred years. He was stunned as heavy rocks pressed down on him.
The memory of becoming a Buddha is still rolling in my mind, the golden battle to defeat the Buddha, and the seemingly supreme glorious title. But he also remembered that after becoming a Buddha, the monkeys in Huaguo Mountain grew old one by one, and no one could remember the name of the Monkey King anymore. At the banquet in heaven, those smiling faces turned into alienation, and he himself, like a tiger with its claws removed, was ridiculously docile.
"So that's it." Sun Wukong murmured, "The so-called becoming a Buddha is just to smooth out the edges of my old grandson and make me become a piece on their chessboard."
He slowly clenched his fists. The Five Fingers Mountain was still pressing on him, but this time, there was no fear or helplessness in his heart, only overwhelming anger and clarity.
"In this life, I won't play with you anymore."
