Volume 2: The Path That Can Be Told, Chapter 140: Hearing the Sound of Strings

The fields here were not far from the houses. In the distance, smoke could be seen rising from many rooftops. After the rain, the weather was clear, creating a picturesque scene. Green trees lined the road; peach blossoms glistened with fresh rain, and willows appeared even greener with the warm mist. Many farmers were returning home, carrying hoes and leading oxen. Insects chirped in the fields, and a brilliant rainbow arched across the sky—truly a serene rural landscape.
At that moment, Wukong seemed to have forgotten who he was, lost in this realistic yet beautiful atmosphere.
When they reached a large house at the edge of the village, Chi Songzi said, “This is my humble abode.” Wukong came back to his senses and saw Chi Songzi smiling at him. His cloth shoes were now clean as new—unknown when Chi Songzi had cast the spell. Wukong did the same. Chi Songzi led him inside. Though it was a simple house, they sat down according to their roles as host and guest.
A young boy brought over two cups of tea—plain in color, yet sweet as honey when drunk. It was clear this was no ordinary tea.
Chi Songzi put down his cup, signaled Shang Yang to leave, then asked Wukong, “Since you, a distinguished guest, have come here, what urgent matter brings you?”
Wukong smiled bitterly and said, “To be honest, I was captured by the Kunpeng.”
Chi Songzi nodded. “He hasn’t captured anyone in a long time. Unless he permits it, no one else can enter. But…” He paused and asked, “Why did he capture you?”
Wukong shook his head. “We were talking normally, and for some reason, he used his whiskers to tie me up and threw me into his mouth.”
Chi Songzi said, “Though you differ from those Seven Mischievous Apes, you are still a rare species. The Kunpeng loves to collect various species from the world, which is why he captured you.”
Wukong thought to himself that although Chi Songzi was the Rain God, he wasn’t aware of everything. From what he said, it seemed Chi Songzi only knew of the Seven Divine Apes and was unaware of other monkey species in the world. He also didn’t recognize that Wukong was actually a divine ape. However, it was likely true that the Kunpeng sought rare species—there were indeed many creatures here that Wukong had never heard of before. But he firmly refused to believe that the Kunpeng had captured him just to complete his collection.
Chi Songzi continued, “The outside world is vast and boundless, but it’s not as peaceful and quiet as here. Since you’re here, make the most of it.” His words carried a soothing tone.
Seeing that Chi Songzi was worried about him, Wukong felt slightly grateful. “Thank you for your concern. But once I’m here, can I really leave?”
Chi Songzi replied, “It’s possible, but not necessarily. It depends on your own determination.”
Wukong said, “In that case, the Kunpeng won’t stop me either.”

Chi Songzi said, “Of course not. This place is originally a refuge. Since I’ve come here, I won’t leave. As for whether you want to leave, I have no idea.”
“A refuge? What do you mean by that?” Wukong asked.
Chi Songzi hesitated, as if touching on some past events he didn’t wish to mention. Since Wukong had come here—though he didn’t know why he was brought in—he naturally wouldn’t miss any clue. So he said, “If you say this is a refuge, it must be because you’ve made enemies outside, right?”
Chi Songzi laughed heartily and said, “Enemies? What’s there to fear even from the most formidable foes?” As he spoke, a glint appeared in his eyes, faintly revealing his once heroic demeanor. But soon he lowered his gaze and said, “It’s true to say I have enemies. Only these enemies are extremely powerful and impossible to trace. They secretly steal away your cultivation and lifespan, making you gradually transform from an omnipotent immortal into a wretch worse than an ordinary person. That’s even more terrifying than killing you.”
Wukong exclaimed, “How can there be such powerful people? Could it be… poisoning?”
Chi Songzi shook his head and said, “It’s not poisoning.”
Wukong thought carefully before slapping his thigh and saying, “I know!” Then he pretended to be profound and said, “The enemies you mentioned are actually something everyone finds hard to resist or escape—because they are—time and age. Am I right?”
Chi Songzi was stunned before bursting into laughter. “Your reasoning is interesting, but you’re still wrong. As time passes, people’s lifespans and vitality fade, and most can’t escape fate. But ancient cultivation methods have their wonders; immortality isn’t just empty talk.”
Hearing Chi Songzi speak of eternal life, Wukong guessed that his cultivation must be quite high for him to say such things. Seeing that Chi Songzi had lowered his defenses under his gentle guidance, he asked, “Then I refuse to believe it. Where in the world could there be such powerful people?”
Chi Songzi chuckled and said, “You can’t help but believe it. That thing is—fate!”
“Fate?”
“Fate!”
Wukong suddenly remembered what Wu Zhiqi had told him in the bottomless abyss behind the Great Sage Zen Temple. “…Fate is karma, it is cause and effect. It is both good intentions and evil thoughts, both blessings and disasters, both merits and retribution. Those who cultivate gain strength through fate, beasts and birds can also become immortals through fate, and ordinary people can see their fortunes increase in the records of yin and yang…” Could Chi Songzi’s so-called fate actually refer to retribution here?

How can fate become karma? Fate is everywhere in the world. If fate also possessed consciousness and sought to bring misfortune upon someone, that person would surely not fare well. Yet… Wukong knew little about fate and couldn’t figure out the reason behind it.

At that moment, Chi Songzi called for more tea, and with another person in the room, the atmosphere of their earlier conversation was disrupted. Wukong realized that if he asked a few more questions, Chi Songzi might reveal the reason, but he was interrupted.

Once the servant left, Chi Songzi regained his usual calm and indifferent expression. When Wukong spoke to him, he replied cautiously, never touching on the main topic.

Having lived for a long time inside the Kunpeng, Chi Songzi was actually very curious about the outside world. He listened to Wukong’s tales about the green lion subduing foxes and the white elephant fighting bears, and he was amazed—these species hadn’t existed during his time in the immortal realm.

Chi Songzi said, “Most of the creatures here are ancient species. Beifang, Xiezhi, Bai Ze, and Taotie are quite common. I’ve even seen a qilin. As for those you mentioned, I’ve never heard of them.”

A qilin? It seemed he had heard of a qilin somewhere before. Wukong racked his memory while chatting with Chi Songzi and finally remembered that the qilin was mentioned by the Nine Spirits Sage, who called it the king of all beasts, though it had disappeared without a trace, leaving it to rule on its own. It seemed he must go to see this qilin somehow.

Wukong suddenly asked, “If there are qilins here, there must also be phoenixes.”

Upon hearing the word “phoenix,” Chi Songzi’s expression changed. He said, “Why do you ask about this evil creature that aids tigers?”

Wukong was shocked. What did he mean by “aiding tigers”? He had no choice but to reply vaguely, “I just heard that the qilin is the king of all beasts and the phoenix is the ruler of all birds, so I asked. In fact, I’ve never seen either of them.”

Chi Songzi’s expression softened slightly, and he sighed, “So many years have passed, yet I still can’t forget.”

Wukong said, “If you can’t forget, why bother? Just let nature take its course.”

Chi Songzi replied, “You don’t know everything. When I say the phoenix aids tigers, it’s just like saying one who is fifty steps away mocks those a hundred steps away. Am I not the same? Sigh!” That sigh carried a hint of regret.

Wukong said, “Rain Master, please forgive my bluntness. If there’s something that could make you regret for ten thousand years, why not cut things off decisively? It would be better than carrying hatred for the rest of your life.”

Chi Songzi said, “I do wish I could, but I lack the strength.” He picked up his teacup and fell into thought. Seeing Chi Songzi hesitating again, Wukong grew anxious but couldn’t figure out a way to get him to speak.

Wukong thought for a moment and said, “I see many monsters here, yet none cause trouble. It’s quite strange.” Chi Songzi replied, “It’s only because we old folks keep them in check. There’s no need to worry about it.”
Old folks? Could it be that there are more ancient deities here besides Chi Songzi?
Wukong asked, “That monster guarding the pass has a strange appearance. Do you know its name?” Chi Songzi said, “Its name is Hua She. Back then, it was harmed by the forces of nature, and its cultivation has been reduced to less than one-tenth of what it once was. Since you’ve reached the level of a Taiyi Golden Immortal, I suppose it must have suffered a great loss at your hands.”
Wukong replied shyly, “Not at all. I only fought it once, and it let me pass.”
“Once?” Chi Songzi was skeptical. “Its Xuanqing Twin Swords are also rare treasures. If you defeated it in just one move, you must have some powerful weapon with you.”
Wukong took out the Ruyi Jingu Bang from his ear; it stretched to over four feet long. “This is my weapon,” he said.
Upon seeing the Ruyi Jingu Bang, Chi Songzi looked at Wukong in astonishment. “It’s actually in your hands!”
Wukong asked, “Do you recognize this weapon?”
Chi Songzi reached out and touched the patterns on the staff. “Not only do I recognize it—it was with me for many years too.” This time, it was Wukong’s turn to be surprised. He had never heard of the legend of the Ruyi Jingu Bang before and didn’t expect it to be connected to Rain God as well.
Chi Songzi continued, “Back in the days when Dayu controlled the floods, he faced countless difficulties yet made no progress for years. But he remained determined, and eventually, the heavens favored him, allowing him to dig up a golden iron staff from the bottom of the Huai River. Dayu had an idea: he refined this gold using the furnace of Xirang, and thus created four Ruyi Jingu Bangs.”
“Four?” Wukong exclaimed in shock.
Chi Songzi nodded. “That’s right. Since Xirang can adjust its own volume, these staffs can change in length and thickness according to the owner’s wishes, which is why they’re called Ruyi Jingu Bangs. Seeing their magic, Dayu thought they could be used to measure the depth of rivers, lakes, and seas. He gave one to each of the four directions—east, west, south, and north—and one was given to me.”
Wukong remembered the Ruyi Jingu Bang in the hands of the Six-Eared Monkey and asked urgently, “Where are the other three?”
Chi Songzi replied, “After I used mine, I returned it to Dayu. Another one was kept by the Golden God Rushou, who loved it greatly due to his pure gold body. After Dayu finished controlling the floods, it wasn’t needed anymore, so it stayed with him. The last two are buried at the bottoms of the East Sea and West Sea, known as the Sea-Stabilizing Divine Staves. But in reality, they only bear that name—they don’t actually stabilize the seas.”

Wukong said, “This one I obtained from the Eastern Sea; I suppose there’s another one at the bottom of the Western Sea.” He said this merely to test, really wanting to see if the Six-Eared Monkey was also connected to Dayu or Rushou.
Chi Songzi nodded and said, “That’s likely. Since Dayu and Rushou are both inside the Kunpeng, those two Ruyi Golden Cudgels probably won’t have another chance to appear in the world.”
Hearing this, Wukong had an idea—turns out the one in the Western Sea had already been taken by the Six-Eared Monkey.