Volume 2: The Path That Can Be Told, Chapter 96: The Country of Deception

After laughing, Laozi declared loudly, “Since you were born from chaos, return to chaos. Enter my realm of creation, and I will restore your true self!” He lifted Wukong and carried him out of the Jade Pure Palace, then headed to the back garden, with the Two Celestial Venerables, Lingbao and Yuanshi, following behind.
In the open space of the back garden, surrounded by towering rocks, Laozi summoned the power to rise into the air. From above, these rocks formed the shape of a Taiji diagram. The outer circles represented the eight trigrams—Qian, Kun, Xun, Dui, Gen, Zhen, Li, and Kan—while at the center was the Taiji, with black and white alternating on either side. White represented yang, and black represented yin. Yin prevailed in the north, while yang emerged to counter it—this was the principle of “Zhen initiating the interaction between yin and yang, giving rise to yang.”
Laozi lifted Wukong and said to the two celestial venerables, “Brother, do not be stingy with this bit of creation.” Seeing Laozi’s urging, Yuanshi and Lingbao also rose into the air. The three of them positioned themselves according to the three elements, aiming to symbolize the creation of all things. Yuanshi raised his right hand, stretched out his index finger, which soon grew many times larger. With a gentle stroke at the boundary between yin and yang, a wave-like gate appeared right in the center of the Taiji diagram.
Laozi gently sent Wukong through the gate. Just as he was halfway in, Lingbao struck Wukong in the back, pushing him fully inside. Yuanshi retracted his power, and the gate disappeared. Laozi said angrily, “What is your intention, brother?” Lingbao replied with a laugh, “I saw his creation was chaotic, so I helped sort it out—haha.”
Laozi retorted mockingly, “Why didn’t you say so earlier? You scared me!” Lingbao did not answer Laozi but felt a sense of sorrow and sighed, “Upon reflection, this monkey’s actions are truly foolish—how similar he is to me!” With a swirl of his sleeves, he flew out of the Jade Pure Realm. In the distance, amidst the misty waves, a mournful song could be heard: “Heaven~does not understand~the heart of a fool; a dream~of life~—what can be done?”
Hearing this song, Yuanshi froze mid-air for a long time. Laozi too was filled with emotions. This song was one the three of them had sung when they first left their master’s school. Now, years later, it still echoed through the world.
Wukong didn’t know how long he had slept during this long dream. He only vaguely remembered fighting against Buddha in front of the Hall of Clarity in the Heavenly Court. After leaving that realm, Buddha had thrown him out, and then he felt a heavy blow to the back before losing consciousness.
“That despicable Buddha!” Wukong still thought it was Buddha who had done this. He cursed inwardly before opening his eyes and standing up.
What beautiful mountains, what beautiful waters—what a wonderful place for leisure!
Huh? This place… so unfamiliar. What a strange feeling.

It should be noted that in that Journey to the West realm, spiritual energy exists everywhere. Even in some barren areas where the spiritual energy is thin, it is not completely absent. Yet in the place where Wukong was now, not a trace of spiritual energy could be found.

Wukong saw that he was standing on the top of a high mountain, with a babbling stream at the foot and moss-covered cliffs, along with many strange flowers and plants that made the small mountain especially colorful.

Looking into the distance, Wukong saw a small town not far away, so he used his flying skills to head there. As soon as he activated his magic, he sensed something was wrong. There was no spiritual energy here, and his magic power merely dissipated without any replenishment—this was like burning through one’s resources without restocking them. With this thought, Wukong casually checked the essence within his body. This internal inspection brought him great surprise.

Originally, his body contained various essences—one from the Tao Te Ching, one from The Joyful Wandering, and another from his daily cultivation… But now, all these essences had merged into one solid, pale purple light mass, extremely pure, just like those from the Tao Te Ching and The Joyful Wandering before.

Who had thrown him into this realm and altered the origin of his essences? Was this person an ally or an enemy? Was this change in his essences a blessing or a curse?

With these questions, Wukong dared not fly any further, fearing that his essences might be exhausted in case of danger. He quickly landed and continued walking in the original direction toward the village.

Since he had learned his skills on his own, he had rarely walked on the ground before. Following the mountain paths, smelling the scent of grass and flowers, and gazing at the blue sky and clear waters, he felt a unique sense of pleasure.

Where exactly was this place? How had he come here from the Heavenly Court? At first glance, it resembled the Journey to the West world, but aside from the thin spiritual energy, there was something else amiss. What exactly was it?

After walking for a while, Wukong suddenly realized what was wrong: everything here was too real, too perfect. The sky was an unimaginably blue, every blade of grass was vividly green without even a hint of yellow, and the soil on the ground was as smooth as glass from his past life. Perfection beyond measure meant falsehood.

Could it be that Buddha had captured him again and thrown him into another artificially created world? It seemed very likely.

Wukong also noticed that there was no sun in this world’s sky! Without a sun, where did the light come from? The blue sky above was like a giant lampshade enclosing the world, with light coming from above.

Well then, since there’s a village, there must be people living here. I’ll go ask around first before trying to figure out the mysteries of this world. By now, Wukong had begun to doubt that this place was created by Buddha. He had no evidence at all; he merely felt that it resembled Master Subhuti’s Lingtai Fangcun Mountain, and in terms of the ability to create worlds, it was clearly superior to Buddha’s. After walking for half a day, Wukong finally reached the edge of the village. From afar, it looked no different from ordinary countries. With his exceptional hearing, he could already hear the residents talking, and their language was no different from that in the Journey to the West world. Since they spoke the same language, things became much easier. Wukong went over and found a peddler selling various goods by the road. He bowed politely and said, “Excuse me, sir. May I ask what place this is?” The peddler didn’t even lift his head and replied, “Just take my words as idle talk. There’s no use in asking.” What kind of nonsense was that? Seeing that the peddler had no intention of talking to him and kept saying strange things, Wukong tried another person—a man with gray hair, wearing simple clothes and straw sandals, carrying a load on his shoulder. Wukong stepped forward and bowed, asking, “Sir, may I ask what place this is?” The old man glanced at Wukong, his eyes lighting up, and said, “Young man, you have a handsome appearance—tall and striking. Have you gotten married yet?” Wukong’s face twisted in frustration. Since he had transformed into a monkey, his height was less than four feet, and he was thin and scrawny—how could he possibly be considered handsome? He quickly bowed and said, “Sir, you’re teasing me. I’m just a monkey—how could I be tall and striking—” A few people nearby heard Wukong’s conversation with the old man and burst into laughter. One of them said, “This monkey is funny. He actually took it seriously.” Another said, “Haha, he seems to be an outsider. None of the words in this Country of Deception can be trusted.” Wukong clearly heard everything. It turned out this place was called the Country of Deception. The old man wasn’t mocking him on purpose; that’s just how people spoke here. Wukong asked the old man again, “Sir, may I know which continent or region this is, and what’s its size?” The old man replied, “It’s the Heavenly Continent and the Underworld—boundless. I’ve lived for over 300 years, yet I still haven’t found its boundaries!” Hearing the old man’s nonsense, Wukong smiled bitterly and headed into the town. The town wasn’t large; he could see the end of it at a glance. There were earthen houses on both sides, and the passersby looked pale and thin, seemingly living in poverty and struggling to make ends meet.