Volume 2: The Path That Can Be Told, Chapter 105: The Gate of Life and Death

Wukong glanced around the study casually; it was filled with manuscripts written by Mencius himself. He only skimmed through them without delving deeply. Even after Mencius left, these manuscripts would continue to be passed down, for in the hearts of the people of Qixin Country, Mencius was already like a deity.
Mencius had no cultivation at all; naturally, it was the Supreme Lord Laozi who led him out of the realm. Before leaving, Laozi gave him a hint—“to hear the Way.” “Hearing the Way” could be interpreted in many ways, but here it meant having a firm mind and reaching a certain level of understanding, just as Mencius did. In his past life’s terms, it meant establishing a complete worldview and value system. From the perspective of cultivation, it meant uniting the five powers: faith, diligence, concentration, stability, and wisdom.
Faith enables one to maintain a firm heart and resolve, avoiding wrong paths; diligence eliminates laziness, allowing progress every day; concentration helps one abandon illusions and follow the right path; stability dispels distractions, enabling focused attention; wisdom, being innate insight, helps resolve many doubts.
Wukong counted them over—he could achieve the latter four, but as for the first, faith that keeps one from going astray—though he understood it, he still wondered what a wrong path was.
Everyone believes that only the path they know is the right one. Who would bravely move forward even if they knew they were on the wrong path? Mencius believed “benevolence” was the Way, Han Feizi advocated “law” as the Way, Confucius emphasized “benevolence and ritual,” and Laozi revered the way of nature… Each had their own views and achievements.
After pondering for a while, Wukong couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Since there was no fixed way, why bother struggling over it? With this thought, the cosmic energy circle within him began to spin slowly again. This time, it rotated three times before stopping, resulting in even more growth of cosmic energy.
Wukong was overjoyed yet somewhat speechless. It turned out that cultivating cosmic energy was so easy. If so, why waste time reading scriptures? Unbeknownst to him, many people spent their entire lives without even approaching the state of “hearing the Way,” and even those who did so often wasted time debating the superiority of different paths.
Wukong saw that Mencius’s journey from confusion to unwavering dedication to “hearing the Way” was already a rare experience. As a Golden Immortal, he gained deep insights from it, which was even more precious.
Having tasted success, he was unwilling to continue sitting in meditation. He left Mencius’s residence and went to the mortal world to find the Three Great Immortals of Strength.
With his cultivation level, it was easy for Wukong to find them. In just a short while, he located them in a capital city. The three immortals were uneasy upon seeing Wukong again, unsure of what orders this supreme immortal would give. But even though they didn’t want to, they had to put on flattering smiles to respond.

Wukong asked, “You three have come here from another realm, passing through the ‘Gate of Birth’ and the ‘Gate of Seizure’. Do you know when these two gates open? Is there a set time?”
The Great Immortal Hu Li replied, “To the supreme immortal, there is no solar or lunar calendar here. It is said that the ‘Gate of Birth’ opens roughly once a month. It is located at the border between the Country of Constant Joy and the Country of Worry.”
Wukong recalled that both countries were at the very top of the Taiji diagram. So, the ‘Gate of Birth’ was indeed at the junction of the Yin and Yang fish. When Yin and Yang meet, life arises—quite interesting.
Now that he knew where the Gate of Birth was, he hesitated no longer and flew straight toward the area between those two countries on his cloud.
Upon arrival, he saw a towering mountain range. Wukong had already seen this range before—it was a continuous mountain chain spanning this realm. On the side belonging to the Yin fish, the mountains were entirely white, as if covered in snow, while on the side belonging to the Yang fish, they were completely black, as if dyed with ink. The boundary between black and white was precisely the junction of the Yin and Yang fish.
At the very top of this boundary, Wukong saw hundreds of people sitting on various mountain peaks, far apart from each other, living in peace. With a sweep of his spiritual sense, he counted 365 mountain peaks in total, matching the number of days in a year, with one person sitting on each.
In the air, many cultivators were either circling high above or sitting on the clouds, their eyes emitting cold glows as they searched each peak, seemingly looking for something extremely important.
Suddenly, one figure seemed to have found its target. It shot down from the sky and rushed toward one of the peaks. The person sitting there was already prepared and leaped up to fight back. The two engaged in a fierce battle. Wukong saw that both of them were at most at the level of earth immortals, but their moves were extremely ruthless, always targeting vital points.
In just a short while, the figure from the sky took out a magical artifact shaped like a small mirror with a lid. He lifted the lid, and a green light shot out, hitting the opponent’s chest. The opponent’s eyes showed disbelief as he fell from the sky, clearly dead.
Wukong was shocked—could killing even occur in this realm?!
After seeing the man kill his opponent, he took his place and sat on that peak.
Wukong began to understand. It seemed that these peaks had to be seized by force. But he didn’t know what the advantage of sitting on such a peak was. He had also wandered around the realm a few times and hadn’t found so many immortals. It seemed he couldn’t be too confident—each immortal had their own strengths in magic.
After a while, more people descended to fight for the peaks, with some winning and some losing.
Wukong didn’t understand the intricacies. Not far away, he saw a middle-aged man rubbing his hands together, ready for action. Wukong flew closer on his cloud. The middle-aged man immediately became wary. Though Wukong wore a smiling face, he still stared at him intently.

Seeing his expression, Wukong stopped from a distance and said, “I dare to ask my elder brother, why does everyone want to seize this mountain?” The middle-aged man replied, “I don’t know what use this mountain is. What are you doing here?”
Wukong said, “I’m here only to find the Gate of Life.”
The man, seeing Wukong’s scholarly appearance and such a simple question, showed clear disdain on his face and said, “Then you’ve come to the wrong place. There’s no Gate of Life here—only the Gate of Death.”
Wukong scratched his head. Could it be that the three Tiger Strength Immortals had deceived him? But upon reflection, this seemed unlikely. He hadn’t left this realm yet. If they had deceived him, wouldn’t they fear his revenge? Probably they didn’t know the truth either and were just making things up.
Wukong said, “A friend told me about it. I don’t understand the difference between the Gate of Life and the Gate of Death. I hope you can explain it to me.”
The man, seeing Wukong’s polite demeanor, didn’t want to be harsh on him and said, “This realm is for living beings. Once you leave these 365 mountains, killing is forbidden. So, the door from the other realm is called the Gate of Life. But to leave here, one must go through trials of life and death. The realm one enters isn’t much different from the realm of death. That’s why the door leading out of this realm is called the Gate of Death.”
Wukong suddenly understood: “So the Gate of Life and the Gate of Death are actually the same door.”
The man added, “Exactly. There are 365 Gates of Death, one on top of each mountain. This door opens only once a month, allowing just 365 people to pass through. If you don’t seize a mountain this time, you’ll have to wait until next time.”
Wukong was puzzled, “If the other side is the realm of death, why do people fight so fiercely to get there?”
The man gritted his teeth and said, “There are many enemies over there. If we don’t go and kill them, how can we relieve our hatred?”
Wukong, realizing the man’s cultivation was only around the fourth rank of immortals, shook his head, worried about him, and left after bowing in thanks.
The man also shook his head and said, “Knows nothing yet dares to come here. What a shame for such a good-looking face.” With that, he spotted a weaker person below and went down to fight him with his weapon.
Wukong pondered that if he wanted to go to that realm, he would have to kill people and seize mountains. But these over 300 people below had no grudges against each other. Who should he kill?
Just then, two earth immortals were fighting in the air. One who couldn’t defeat the other fled, and the other chased after him. That person rushed toward Wukong. Seeing Wukong in his way, he shouted, “Get out of the way!” His tone was rude.