I Am Not Sun Wukong

I am a casual cultivator in this world, extremely poor, and my greatest skill every day is to cut things worth three pennies down to two pennies. Until one day, a rusty iron rod that I couldn't throw away seventeen times caught up with me. The three realms are looking for it - the golden cudgel that defeats the Buddha. Rumor has it that when you put on those tight hoops, you are no longer you. The black-armored Buddhist soldiers chased me for half a street, the old bull from Jilei Mountain was waiting for me to grow tusks, and there was a boy who was always barefoot, spinning a fire-tipped spear like a gust of wind. Not many people follow me: A Ganoderma girl who talks little and is venomous always turns the hot side towards herself when handing out the medicine; A carefree Santan Haihui master, kicking stones more seriously than fighting. They all say that I am the reincarnation of the Monkey King, and when I wake up, I will be able to sweep across the three realms. But I don't want to be some unparalleled hero. I just want to know if I can still be myself after having a taste of power. Later, the fire in Lingshan burned for three days and three nights. Some people become Buddhas, some disappear, and some people kneel on the scorched earth holding a Ganoderma lucidum and wait for a whole thousand years. It turns out that the most powerful thing in the world has never been the Golden Cudgel. Knowing that he would lose, he still chose the path he wanted to take.