Volume 1: Unsayable – Chapter 32: Zhenyuanzi

The Golden-Winged Roc approached politely and knocked on the door. As the doorbell rang, two Taoist apprentices came out. The one on the left asked loudly, “There’s a visitor here. What brings you here?”
The Golden-Winged Roc replied, “I merely wish to obtain a few ginseng fruits from your master, Zhenyuanzi.”
Wukong sneered inwardly. This Golden-Winged Roc was quite direct—wasn’t this just the same as forcing things?
Sure enough, the two apprentices’ expressions changed drastically. They said, “We can’t decide on this matter. We’ll consult our master first and then make a decision.” With that, they hurried inside.
The Golden-Winged Roc said, “Won’t you even invite us three inside? Is this how you treat guests?” Then he strode into the temple, with Wukong and the Bull Demon King following naturally.
Suddenly, a clear voice rang out, “What rude guests! This Wuzhuang Temple isn’t something you can just come to at will.” An invisible force struck them, preventing them from moving forward. Wukong was astonished—no one was even visible, yet such supernatural power already existed. What should they do?
He glanced at the Bull Demon King and the Golden-Winged Roc, who also looked somewhat embarrassed. The Bull Demon King said with a wry smile, “It’s the same trick again.” It seemed they had experienced this before.
The Golden-Winged Roc took to the air and shouted, “You two hold off this old man while I go to the back yard to pick the fruits!”
Wukong suddenly realized what was happening and cried, “Brother, run quickly!” But it was already too late. A robe sleeve that swept across the sky enveloped the Bull Demon King and Wukong. The Golden-Winged Roc had already flown away, leaving only a strange laugh in the sky. Falling inside the robe sleeve, Wukong thought, “I never expected to experience Zhenyuanzi’s supernatural power again. The difference is that I haven’t even seen the ginseng fruits yet. What a grievous injustice!”
What a cunning Golden-Winged Roc! He brought Wukong and the Bull Demon King to Wuzhuang Temple, so Zhenyuanzi would surely think the three of them were a gang. How could he not take action to subdue them? Wukong had planned to take advantage of the fight between the Golden-Winged Roc and Zhenyuanzi, but instead, he ended up being outwitted by his own cleverness.
I am Zhenyuanzi, 20,267 years old. I currently reside at Wuzhuang Temple on Wanshou Mountain in Xiniuhuo Continent.
Among the vast four continents and countless cultivators, none is luckier than me. Likewise, I doubt anyone is more frustrated than me.
At that time, I didn’t know that true immortals existed in the world. I lived a muddled life for half a century until one day, a strange seed fell from the sky and landed right in my arms. It was this seed that led me on my path to transcendence and become an immortal.

Carrying this seed that made me light and strong, even if I were foolish, I knew it must be an extraordinary treasure, and keeping it in the mortal world was extremely dangerous. So I left home secretly with some food, keeping this secret even from my wife and children.

I chose remote and uninhabited places to walk in. This seed gave me endless strength; along the way, wolves, insects, tigers, and leopards could not approach me. Even when I encountered a group of mountain spirits and monsters, I drove them away with a few stones.

Yet, the more I walked, the more afraid I became. After all, it’s said that an innocent person bears guilt for possessing a precious treasure. The more valuable something is, the more people will try to steal it, and the stronger their opponents will be—this is an unchanging truth.

Finally, I reached Wanshou Mountain, this legendary peak thousands of miles away from my home. With its beautiful scenery and steep mountains, it was the perfect place for me to settle down.

Even though over 22,000 years have passed, I still remember that day clearly: I carefully selected a spot, dug a deep pit, and planted the seed inside. As soon as it touched the ground, green sprouts appeared, and within just an hour, a towering tree grew.

Instead of feeling joy, I was filled with worry. The sun shone brightly in the sky, yet I was drenched in cold sweat. The tree’s branches were like emerald rods, and its leaves resembled jade plantains, shining even more brilliantly under the sunlight.

Since obtaining this seed, I could vaguely sense the extraordinary powers of the immortals—far beyond imagination. Such a magnificent tree would eventually be discovered, and if I stayed here, I might die because of it. But giving up this precious tree was tantamount to killing myself.

So I resolved to build a house here and guard the tree. I could sense that, if nothing went wrong, this tree would bring me even greater benefits.

The tree changed every day as it grew, and I gradually became younger. Yes, younger—within a few days, I returned to my thirties. I grew three long beards, tied my hair into a topknot, and dressed like a Taoist priest. There was no other reason—I simply felt that this was the proper attire for an immortal.

I stayed here for over 200 years, knowing that my family members had long since entered the next cycle of life. What family, what kinship? They were all but fleeting illusions. Compared to the pursuit of immortality, nothing else mattered.

I often sit on the mountaintop, gazing downward. In this world, I wonder how many others, like me, are also on this journey toward immortality. Some give up halfway, some die prematurely, and some have just begun their quest… Anyway, as long as there is hope in one’s heart, that’s good. This force is the Dao. The Dao cannot grant eternal life, but it is the foundation of cultivation, enabling one to gain enlightenment, spur progress, and ultimately free oneself from worldly attachments to enter the realm of immortals.

Yes, after pondering for over five hundred years, I realized that a powerful force had emerged within me. But I knew that ordinary people live at most a hundred years; they also have the chance to achieve enlightenment, yet they don’t live long enough. I was different—I possessed a treasure that could extend life, a gift from heaven.

From then on, I regarded myself as heaven’s favorite, believing it was my fate, and I grew complacent, until that day, when that person appeared…

It was a sunny day with a gentle breeze and clear skies, yet my heart was filled with darkness. As usual, I sat on a large rock on the mountaintop, closing my eyes in meditation. I closed my eyes to calm my mind, but in truth, I already possessed divine vision—nothing within miles could escape my awareness.

Suddenly, my heart tightened as an indescribable sense of crisis arose. I scanned with my spiritual senses but found nothing. But when I turned around, I saw a monk standing under my precious tree, examining it closely.

The monk was extremely handsome, with a kind face and a smile on his lips. Yet I saw a peculiar expression in his eyes—a look I had also seen when I obtained that seed: greed.

The monk acted as if I didn’t exist at all. His eyes were fixed only on the tree, as if it naturally belonged to him and he was its rightful owner. I disliked this greatly.

I rushed at him and used the stone-throwing technique I had just learned to attack him. He didn’t even dodge or move a finger. With just a glance, the world came to a halt.

I stood there, stunned, watching the stones suspended in midair, filled with extreme fear. He was an immortal with great powers—his mere thought could reduce me to ashes.

The monk still wore that hypocritical expression. He said something, and I knew I could continue living. His words were, “It’s better left with you than with me.”

The monk retracted his powers and asked me in detail about the origin of the tree. I didn’t dare lie and told him everything truthfully. The monk nodded slightly, saying I was quite honest.

He then helped me repair the house and built a large estate. I said the estate was huge, and he replied it wasn’t an estate but a Taoist temple. “You should continue to be a Taoist priest and help me watch over this tree here.” I felt extremely uncomfortable—clearly it was my tree, yet in an instant it became his. He said, “You are fated to this tree, so I naturally won’t take it from you, but the fruits on the tree belong to me!” His tone was firm, unyielding, as if there was no one in the world he respected. Later, he set up many defensive formations to protect the temple tightly. He left behind many books on cultivation, instructing me to learn quickly, as the greater my skills became, the less worry he would have. I wanted to cry but had no tears—I felt like I had become a watchdog. The monk also gave me a name: Zhenyuanzi. “Zhen” means to guard, and “Yuanzi” refers to the seed of this tree. I didn’t know the origin of the name “Yuanzi.” The monk said he didn’t know; it was part of your fate. If you had known earlier, you would likely have died already. The answer is in the books I gave you—search for it yourself. After doing all this, the monk left. Later, I learned his name: Tathagata.