Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

Chapter 105 A World Within a Sleeve

He approached for a closer look and recognized him as the servant who had brought him tea a few days ago. At this moment, Shen Feng was covered in blood and seriously injured. Qingfeng casually took out a pill and fed it to him. The medicinal power instantly dissolved and completely repaired his injuries.

Fan Yuan was greatly surprised to see this. He had originally planned to make the most of this clone before it completely collapsed, and then withdraw the feedback. However, he did not expect that the clone would be saved by Qingfeng.

Since his clone still existed, Fan Yuan abandoned his original idea; being alive was ultimately the best outcome.

Inside the Wuzhuang Temple, in a side room.

Mingyue brought over several plates of vegetarian food and placed them on the table, forcing a smile: "Elder, I was very rude yesterday. Please accept this vegetarian food as an apology."

Having said that, he left through the door.

A soft click.

The sound of a brass lock clicking shut came from outside the door.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang's expression changed, and he put down his chopsticks: "Wukong, why did he lock the door?"

Sun Wukong sat on the windowsill and sneered, "Master, those two young disciples went to the back garden and found out that I knocked down that broken tree. They were afraid we'd escape, but they didn't dare to do it in front of us, so they pretended to appease us while actually trapping us here to die."

"When our master returns, he will decide what to do."

Pigsy, who was stuffing a steamed bun into his mouth, was shocked by the words and choked so badly that his eyes rolled back: "Brother! Why didn't you say so sooner that you'd caused such a disaster! If that ancestor of earth immortals were to return, how would we possibly survive?"

Sha Wujing silently stood up and picked up his demon-subduing staff.

"What's the panic?" Wukong plucked a hair from his body, put it to his lips, and blew on it. "Transform!"

The hair transformed into a file, slipped through the crack in the door, and quickly shredded the brass lock to pieces.

"Walk."

Wukong pushed open the door, and the four of them, leading horses and carrying loads, took advantage of the night and fled from Wuzhuang Temple, heading straight west.

The next morning.

Above Longevity Mountain, a golden light pierced through the clouds, and Zhenyuan Daxian, leading forty-six disciples, returned from listening to a lecture at the Mi Luo Palace in Shangqing Heaven.

As soon as they landed on the clouds, they saw that the temple gates were tightly closed and the courtyard was in a mess.

Qingfeng and Mingyue knelt before the hall, tearfully recounting how Tang Sanzang and his disciples stole the immortal fruit, knocked down the spiritual root, and fled in the night.

Upon hearing this, the disciples were all enraged and drew their swords, ready to go down the mountain to pursue and kill him.

Zhenyuan Daxian stood on the steps, his gaze sweeping over the empty back garden, but his face showed no anger whatsoever.

"What a wicked monkey!" The Great Immortal sneered, flicking his whisk lightly. "You don't know the immensity of heaven and earth, daring to damage my spiritual root. You all stay in the temple and wait for me to go and bring them here."

Having said that, the immortal rode on auspicious clouds and hurried westward.

A moment later, they saw Tang Sanzang and his disciples galloping on horseback on the main road ahead.

The immortal descended from the clouds, blocking the way.

Seeing this, Wukong drew his golden cudgel and attacked without saying a word. Bajie raised his nine-toothed rake and Sha Wujing grabbed the demon-subduing staff, and they all attacked together.

Zhenyuan Daxian stood in mid-air, watching the three people charging towards him. He simply raised his right arm, and the wide sleeves of his Taoist robe fluttered in the wind.

boom!

The sleeve expanded instantly, as if transforming into a black hole that devoured everything, sucking in all the surrounding spiritual energy, light, and sound.

Space Avenue.

Wukong felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, and instantly activated his Somersault Cloud, intending to leap 108,000 li.

However, to his horror, he discovered that the surrounding space was being stretched and folded infinitely, and the faster he flew, the closer the sleeve became to him.

This is not a magic weapon at all, but an absolute crushing of the laws of heaven and earth.

"receive."

Zhenyuan Daxian uttered a single word.

The gale suddenly subsided.

Tang Sanzang, Wukong, Bajie, and Sha Wujing, along with the white dragon horse and their luggage, all fell into the immortal's sleeve.

The universe is turned upside down, and a single sleeve determines the outcome.

The immortal turned around and rode a cloud back to observe.

The main hall of Wuzhuang Temple.

The four members of the group, master and disciples, were tightly bound by magic ropes on four thick, coiled dragon pillars.

Zhenyuan Daxian sat on the high platform and ordered his disciple to bring a dragon-skin seven-star whip. This whip was made by kneading the skin of a dragon from the East Sea with star-refined iron, and it was specially designed to strike the soul, impervious to water and fire.

"Strike that Tang Monk first," the immortal ordered.

The disciple raised his whip to strike.

"Wait!" Wukong shouted sternly from the pillar. "Old Taoist! I was the one who stole the fruit, I was the one who ate the fruit, and I was the one who knocked down your tree! I take responsibility for my own actions. If you want to fight, fight me first, don't touch my master!"

Zhenyuan Daxian looked at the unruly Sun Wukong, a strange light flashing in his eyes.

"You mischievous monkey, you do have some sense of loyalty." The immortal nodded slightly. "Fine, I'll hit you first, give me a good beating!"

""

Snapped!

The Seven Star Whip tore through the air and lashed hard at Wukong's leg.

Sparks flew everywhere, producing a metallic clang.

Wukong secretly activated the Eight-Nine Arcane Arts, turning his legs into wrought iron. No matter how the whip lashed him, not even a single hair on his body was broken. Instead, he chatted and laughed on the pillar.

Seeing this, the immortal did not expose the truth, but simply ordered someone to lash him thirty times and then let it go.

That night.

Taking advantage of the absence of others in the temple, Wukong once again used his shrinking technique to untie the immortal ropes, release his master and junior brothers, and escape for the second time.

However, within the Daoist temple of this ancestor of earth immortals, any struggle is futile.

The next morning at dawn, the immortal once again used his hidden power to easily capture the four people who had escaped over a hundred miles away.

This time, the master is serious.

"Set up the oil pot."

Outside the palace, a large bronze cauldron, about ten feet wide, was set up in the square. A raging fire was burning underneath, and clear oil was bubbling inside, emitting a burnt smell.

"Throw that monkey in and blow it up," the immortal coldly ordered.

Several disciples stepped forward, untied Wukong, and carried him to the oil cauldron.

Looking at the scalding oil pot, Wukong sneered inwardly. He suddenly plucked a hair from his body, transforming it into his own likeness, while his true form turned into a flying insect and disappeared into the air.

In mid-air, Wukong revealed his true form, picked up the stone lion weighing ten thousand catties outside the hall, and smashed it down hard on the oil pot.

"thump!"

The stone lion fell into the pot, and the boiling oil splattered everywhere, causing the surrounding disciples to scream in agony.

With a loud crack, the stone lion smashed through the bottom of the bronze cauldron, causing the hot oil to leak out and the fire to go out.

The immortal looked at the shattered oil pot but did not get angry.

He had long seen that this monkey was indestructible; even Laozi's Eight Trigrams Furnace couldn't refine it, so how could a mere pot of clear oil harm it?

What he wanted was not the monkey's life, but an explanation from the Buddhist community.

"You impudent monkey." The Great Immortal looked up at Wukong in mid-air. "Your methods are indeed remarkable, but my ginseng fruit tree is a spiritual root that created the world. You destroyed it, and you cannot escape the karma."

Wukong descended from the clouds, leaning on his golden cudgel: "Old Taoist, what do you want?"

The immortal slowly said, "If you have the means, find a remedy to revive my precious tree. As long as the tree lives, I will forgive your past grievances, become sworn brothers with you, and let you and your master go west."

Upon hearing this, Wukong's eyes darted around.

This old Taoist's cultivation is unfathomable; he is no match for you in a direct confrontation. Since he has offered you a way out, you might as well go with the flow.

"Alright! It's a deal!" Wukong readily agreed. "I'll go find the remedy right away. You'd better serve my master well. If even a single hair on his head is missing, I'll tear down your Wuzhuang Temple!"

Having said that, Wukong soared into the clouds and headed straight for the East Sea.