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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton [Worm/Chinese Myth] Sotapanna 1.11
🕑 Added 2025-01-07 16:01:55 +0000 UTCAgain they heard the monkey yelling, “Further still! Further still!” So Tripitaka and the others went still further until they had left the mountain. All at once came a crash so loud that it was as if the mountain was cracking and the earth splitting wide open; everyone was awestruck. The next moment the monkey was already in front of Tripitaka’s horse; completely naked, he knelt down and cried, “Master, I’m out!” He bowed four times toward Tripitaka, and then, jumping up, he said to Boqin respectfully, “I thank Elder Brother for taking the trouble of escorting my master. I’m grateful also for your shaving the grass from my face.”
When Tripitaka saw that the monkey was truly a person of good intentions, someone who truly resembled those who had embraced the Buddhist faith, he called to him, “Disciple, what is your surname?” “My surname is Sun,” said the Monkey King. “Let me give you a religious name,” said Tripitaka, “so that it will be convenient to address you.” “This noble thought of the master is deeply appreciated,” said the Monkey King, “but I already have a religious name. I’m called Sun Wukong.” “It exactly fits the emphasis of our denomination,” said Tripitaka, delighted. “But look at you, you look rather like a little dhūta. Let me give you a nickname and call you Pilgrim Sun. How’s that?” “Good! Good!” said Wukong. So from then on, he was also called Pilgrim Sun.
-Journey to the West, chapter 14
-x-
Is this a dream?
To say Taylor Hebert’s day was shitty was a bullseye. First, the whole of Winslow High was paranoid because the ABB and the E88 decided to have another fight, and it was sending anyone allied or identifying with each gang’s views at each other’s throats. Two fights had broken out by lunch - and not broken up - and the whole debacle might last until the end of the week. On top of that, she had to endure the usual torment of her eternal trio of bullies, led by her (former) childhood friend Emma. This time it was a heap of mud on her desk just before class, and Ms. Gladly had read her the riot act for damaging school property, all while Emma and Sophia’s smug faces laughed at her silently from outside the classroom.
As if those desks weren’t one kick away from ending up in the junkyard.
After hours of listening to droning, enduring more insults and whispers, and acting dead to the world, Taylor finally managed to escape her hell for the past year…and the bus almost came late.
Dark clouds, silver linings, right?
She was about to repeat her usual routine of heading home and collapsing on the bed - maybe doing some homework if she mustered the energy to care - when a bird chirped on the porch. Taylor didn’t think anything of it, but something felt off the third time she tried to enter her house and the bird chirped again.
To think she actually tried to talk to it! Talking to a bird! Was she that desperate!?
To top it all off, the stupid bird flew into her house and wouldn’t leave until she gave it some food! Which she didn’t have because her Dad forgot to buy it and he was away at an emergency Dockworker’s meeting, most likely because of the gang war. It looked happy with that bread chunk though, so that was a plus.
Just when she thought the day would end in peace…the street exploded.
Gunshots. Blood. Roars. And all she did was stand there.
Somehow she fled. Her foot slipped and she kissed the pavement. Tried to grab the fucking groceries like they even mattered but her Dad wouldn’t be hungry -
Car horns. A sound she could never forget. How could she?
Helpless to move, she could only watch as they came closer and closer until they were rightinherfaceandsheddielikemomnadEmma-
But no pain came. She remained as it was instead of flying across the asphalt. She felt glass fly around her, the horrid screeching of the vehicle ripping her ears to shreds…but nothing hit her.
Someone was talking above her. Their - no, his - words were muddled but sharp. A ping came from next to her and that of all things snapped her to attention, and she looked up.
No way. It had to be a dream.
How else could she explain the sight of a talking monkey offering her a hand?
“...to ask, but are you alright?”
She blinked, stammered silently, then shook her head. This was…she reached to adjust her glasses and - yep, there was still a talking monkey.
He tilted his head at her, the brownish fur swaying in a breeze she couldn't feel. His smile was full of sharp teeth, but strangely, it didn’t seem mocking or hurtful, waiting to let loose a hail of taunts. Instead, it looked…almost tender. Reassuring.
When did she last see a smile like that?
Taylor finally found her voice, even if it sounded miles away. “I-I’m fine.”
The monkey - he looked familiar for some reason - looked her up and down and chuckled. “No need to be so modest, my dear. You almost took quite the hit.” He gestured with his clawed hand again and she tentatively reached out and grasped it. His palm was coarse, but he held her gently as he slowly pulled her up. When she almost made it, the ground gave way and -
“Easy now.”
When did he grab her other hand?
He pulled her up fully and felt a few quick brushes along her back. “There, that’s better now, isn’t it?”
Taylor glanced to her side and felt her blood rush away from her face. That could’ve been her bleeding corpse right there, lying on the road. Dad would get a call, rush from work only to hear that his daughter ended up in a -
No. She couldn’t think like that now. She was still alive.
Not like Mom. Not in a coffin.
“Y-yeah.”
She turned to the monkey who kept grinning at her. She wet her lips and spoke again, her voice still jittery. “Th-thanks…for saving me. I didn’t see the car coming and -”
“Now, now, no need to apologize. You were treated to quite the disorderly sight, all those ruffians going at each other like mad roosters in a cockfight; ‘twas only natural that your body failed to heed your mind.” He glanced at the smashed car and briefly frowned. “For all their convenience, these metal carts are hard to avoid. With all the ingenuity I’ve seen in this city, I thought they would have done something about that.” He then shrugged. “Bah, no matter. You are safe and they are gone.”
…
…
…
It must have been the shock of the blow because Taylor felt like her mind was swimming inside a whirlpool and a broken jacuzzi. Did he just call cars ‘metal carts’?
At least it wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Umm…ok?”
The monkey looked around before flashing another smile at her and looking down at her feet. “A pity for your errands though. Food is a terrible thing to waste.”
“Food?” Taylor paused to try and make sense of his words and her eyes widened. “Oh shit, the groceries!”
Everything in the bag was spilled or destroyed. The few vegetables she bought were scattered around the car and the milk carton was crushed under the broken car’s wheel. Taylor chided herself even as she gaped in dismay at the scene. It was just some groceries; that milk carton could’ve been her!
Another chuckle and a firm tug drew her away. “Yes, quite unfortunate, but a small price to pay in comparison, no?” The monkey pulled her to the sidewalk and into a nearby alley, a fair distance from the site. “The paths of karma are strange, but in the end, they can lead to great fortune. What greater fortune there can be than your own life?”
“If…if you say so.”
She discreetly took his features in. Charred blue-and-white robes - undoubtedly Asian, but she couldn’t place from where - bare clawed feet adorned with red…greaves - yes, that was the word - a long tail sticking out of his butt and she could’ve sworn there was a stick - no, a staff next to him. Where did it go?
More importantly, where did she see him before?
“Um…I’m sorry if I’m rude,” especially since you saved me right now, she thought. “But I didn’t really hear your name.”
Her savior seemed startled before he quickly nodded. “Ah yes, I suppose my little speech was the furthest thing on your mind.” He took a step back, clasped his hands together, and bowed. Wait, why was he bowing!?
“I am the great Sun Wukong, King of Flower-Fruit Mountain and a humble traveler to this great city. Might this former pilgrim ask for the fair lady’s name?”
Taylor blinked in surprise at hearing herself being called a ‘lady’. She never felt like one.
“T-Taylor Hebert and you don’t need to bow!” she hurriedly cried and waved her hands. “Y-you saved my life, not the other way around! Should I bow? Shake hands? Can I -”
Her mind froze when the name he gave finally settled in. “Did you say your name was…Sun Wukong?”
“Ah, so the name of this old traveler has reached your fair ears?”
That was…one way to put it. This was the cape that was all over the news! Even outside of PHO, he was all the city could talk about for the past few days, and his brazen challenge of Lung, which was still a proclamation she couldn’t believe. The PRT has made numerous statements like that before, and they never got close to capturing him. Even Winslow wasn’t exempt from the frenzy; she’d seen people try and organize bets on who was going to win. The last time she heard Greg Veder shout it in the halls, it sounded like a 50-50 chance, but maybe it was because of the novelty of a new cape. Punches were thrown of course, but she managed to steer clear of that.
“Sort of. A lot of people are talking about you and what you said to Lung.”
Sun Wukong - or was it just Wukong, because he was Asian, with the last name first? - snorted, looking somewhat amused. “The status your people give to the false long is woefully undeserved. In the end, a carp remains a carp if he leaps solely within his pond, much less a carp that hardly leaps at all. Swatting minnows with your fin is hardly an accomplishment.” He placed his hands on his hips and puffed his chest. “But this Old Sun was glad to provide him instruction in the ways of humility. I somewhat doubt the lesson has sunk in, even if his body did. Hm, did he ever manage to surface?”
Taylor, by that point, had recovered the majority of her mental faculties and had understood the cape’s words. But it took her a few moments for the actual meaning of what he was saying to sink in.
“You actually fought him!? Lung!?”
Wukong looked at her with a confused expression. “I have seen this reaction amongst you folk quite often whenever I bring that subject up. First my dear host and now you. His grip on your minds must have been greater than I anticipated.”
Again, the words didn’t register properly in Taylor’s slowly panicking brain. She’d heard some of the Asian kids in school whispering about an ‘epic-grade beatdown’ that got released on PHO and ‘ownage’ and ‘get wrecked, scrub!’, but she didn’t pay them any mind. There were dozens of cape fight videos on PHO, and while she saw the major highlights, she didn’t think of logging in yesterday. She would have logged in today…no, she was going to do it the moment she returned home.
“Young Taylor? Are you alright? Did a piece of metal find its way to your soft little skull?”
If anyone asked, she did not yelp when she felt a finger pressing her cheek.
“Ah-no,” she replied, closing her gaping jaw and trying to compose herself. “It’s just…like you said, he has a reputation.” Had. Did he really not know? Everyone in the city knew about the ABB and their monster of a leader.
‘Wait, he said he was a traveler’, she thought. ‘Flower-Fruit Mountain? Never heard of a mountain like that. Is it one of those towns with really weird names?’
“Well, I hope the people of Brockton dream at peace. He shan't be bothering you in the meantime…unless he finds the last morsels of his pride, in which case I will gladly repeat the lesson.”
“Oh…okay.” A well-known wailing rang in her ears, one that everyone in Brockton was accustomed to. She peeked over Wukong’s shoulder and her eyes widened again at the flash of red and blue.
Wukong also noticed, because he turned around and hummed. “I do not fancy a talk with the local city guard, and neither it seems, do you.” He offered her his hand again and flashed a smile that, if it were on a normal face, might’ve been charming. It still was, but the whole monkey look he had kind of threw it off. “Would you allow this Old Sun to escort you home in case more ne’er-do-wells disturb the remainder of your evening?”
Taylor just looked at the hand with total confusion. Was he…was he really offering to escort her home?
Normally, she would listen to her father’s insistent advice of not accepting offers from strangers to take a walk, doubly so when the chances of getting kidnapped or shanked in an alley were high enough for it not to be a creepypasta, yet…he saved her life. And he was a hero. Not a Protectorate Hero like Alexandria, and maybe a little dramatic, but still a hero.
Also, a small part of her, long dormant for years, was desperate for company.
“...sure.”
The girl took his hand and he led her out of the alley and down the road. What few people that walked outside at this hour were now long gone. They walked at a leisurely pace, even if Taylor’s heart beat like a machine gun when she heard the police cars come screeching behind her, but Wukong kept gently tugging her arm. It wasn’t like the forceful and nasty jerks Emma and her cronies sometimes pulled; it was urgent, yes, but she could feel he was trying not to hurt her.
Once the crime scene was well behind them, the monkey cape decided to chime in.
“So, in the spirit of pleasant conversation, would you mind telling me about yourself?”
Taylor jerked up before looking away. “Um…there’s not much to tell.”
Wukong chuckled good-naturedly. “Come now, every person bears a story, no matter how small it may appear to them. Even the shortest scroll can contain great wisdom, and you seem like an intelligent lass.” He gestured to himself with a flourishing wave. “Tell this Old Sun a chapter of your life.”
She couldn’t help but huff in laughter, though it came out as more of a snort. “There isn’t much excitement or wisdom here, I’m pretty normal. I live with my Dad and I go to school.” A school where everyone hates me and a Dad who’s like a ghost.
“School? Ah, is your father a man of great riches? To afford his daughter an education is a true mark of love.”
If she wasn’t so thrown off by the first part of his reply, Taylor would’ve laughed. If Winslow was a school for wealthy people, then Arcadia was for multibillionaires. Or maybe it was wealthy in wannabe gangbangers and queen bitches, then it was practically Forbes’ Top 10.
“N-no, it’s a school. Everyone goes to school.”
Wukong blinked and he looked at her with visible shock. Was it something she said?
“Everyone goes to school? Even the peasants?”
Taylor nodded, though it was more out of reflex and she felt her eyebrow twitch. Did he really call her a ‘peasant’? Who the hell uses the word ‘peasant’ nowadays? A talking monkey, that’s who. One’s who’s looking a little too invested in his cosplay.
“Then, that would mean…” his smile suddenly returned and he threw his head back, laughing merrily. “Oh, this is a delight! Old Sun, you have found a true treasure!”
As he kept laughing and clutching his robed chest, Taylor was left utterly bewildered. Yeah, she could think of more than a few kids in Winslow who honestly didn’t deserve the efforts of the American education system, but this was a little too much, no?
“Uh, are you okay?”
Wukong’s laughter died down and he propped himself back up, his fanged smile still present. “Pardon this one’s humorous outburst, my lady; I recalled an acquaintance of mine, quite the old wooden plank, who would grow constipated at hearing your words. I find it a joy, education is paramount and essential for the young ones.”
“Okay…” she trailed off, even as she blinked again at the ‘my lady’ comment. Where did he come from that the mention of a school seemed so funny? It was like that all over the world. And ‘old wooden plank’? “Where did you say you were from again?”
“The Great Flower-Fruit Mountain, beyond the eastern sea and west of the land of Aolai.” He rubbed his chin as he started walking again. “The land it resides near is called China in this tongue.”
That…made some sense. Taylor didn’t know a lot about the CUI, what with its isolationism and hostility to the US, but what little she’d heard didn’t paint a nice picture. She almost asked how he came to Brockton but held her tongue. A journey like that couldn’t have been easy. Still, an unusual name for a mountain, and she didn’t know of a place in China called Aolai.
“But regardless, what else do you do?”
“...not much,” she replied, looking away. What little hobbies she had seemed to have been whittled away this past year. “I had a flute once…it was my mother’s.”
Before they broke it.
Even as she chided herself for letting that slip, Wukong’s eyes softened and his rasp grew smoother. “Ah, my condolences, dear child. How long?”
“...two years.”
“Was she a musician?”
She blinked the incoming tears away and forced down the rising clouds of depression. “She played for fun, but she was an English Professor.”
Wukong moved to ask something before his eyes widened again. “Ah, a scholar! Quite the achievement! You must be very proud.”
A bitter smile came on Taylor’s face, the memories ripping at her heart bit by bit. “Yeah, she was the best.” She kept them together, Dad actually used to smile…but it all went downhill from the moment that damned call came.
“You share an interest in the scholarly world as well?”
“A little. I loved when she read to me.” She didn’t mind the questions, but the way he asked them was…old-fashioned. Taylor didn’t think she’d hear that kind of talk outside of old movies.
The monkey tipped his head, still bearing that smile. “She has raised quite a daughter, to pass on and nurture her talents. Take pride in that.”
Red finally came full force to Taylor’s face and she averted her gaze. It wasn’t flirting - she would’ve bolted the second he tried - but so genuine she couldn’t help herself. ‘Like some of Dad’s coworkers at the Docks the times they came over. Ruffling my hair and laughing at whatever I did.’
Familiar houses soon came into view, and the police sirens were well behind them. She panicked at first at the thought of a neighbor spotting her and the monkey-man beside her, but no one seemed to be outside, and the faint lights streamed from shuttered windows. A draft flew down the street and Taylor pulled her hoodie tighter. Yeah, it didn’t look like anyone wanted to be outside. Wukong didn’t seem to react at all to the chill, instead, he kept looking around as he walked, smiling and chirping seemingly at random. It had to be all that fur. That robe wasn’t in the best condition.
“This Old Sun apologizes if he is intruding, but I sense dark rainclouds hovering above your bright mind. I know that nasty encounter with those ruffians was far from your idea of a pleasant evening. Yet something else seems amiss. What seems to trouble you?”
Taylor winced at the polite yet nonetheless blunt question. Was she that obvious? Did she become so used to being invisible that she didn’t think anyone would pay attention?
“It’s…” The desire to just spill it out was there. To this total stranger, even if he saved her life. But what could he do when no one else noticed? In the end, she sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Life isn’t great. Shitty even. Not since Mom died.”
Wukong solemnly nodded at her words. She wanted to continue, but her vocal cords failed her. That was it. The root of all her problems, neatly summed up in a singular sentence.
Everything stemmed from that. Thanks to the frigging car crash that came rollingandscreamingdownandnoonecouldstop-
Taylor chewed on the inside of her cheek and shook her head. It all had to come and smack her in the face, didn’t it?
When she didn’t continue, the cape took up the proverbial mic. “A candle’s absence is felt even in a room full of lights, for its flame made the room a little brighter. That pain surpasses the deadliest warrior’s wound in its bite, for the soul cannot be mended as the flesh can.” He met her eyes, and little of the joking monkey from before was there. “Your father must have felt her loss most keenly.”
A grimace passed over her features and a pang went through her heart. “...yeah, he did.” One crowning understatement after another.
She expected him to add: ‘It’s good you have your father’, or ‘Have you tried talking to him’ - advice she’d tried again and again - but to her surprise, Wukong said none of that.
“I’m sure her spirit would weep with joy at seeing her husband and daughter still alive and well. I have seen families torn apart and destroyed from far less.”
Alive? Yes. Well? Not really, neither of them. She couldn’t bring herself to refute him though, not after all he’s done, so she just attempted a smile. Wukong returned the same, fangs poking from under his lips, but there was an odd…knowing…in his eyes. It sent a shiver down her spine, but she didn't let it show. He listened to her enough, there was no need to burden him further.
But why was he looking above her head? Was there a bug?
She shook herself to shoo whatever it was off, messing up her hair even more. Wukong tilted his head and scratched his chin again, clearly curious. What was it?
“Forgive me if this sounds unusual, but have you noticed any golden strands above the heads of your fellow townsfolk?”
It was her turn to look at him strangely, with a raised eyebrow even. “No…” she trailed off. What kind of a question was that? Golden strands? Was this a cape thing?
He seemed to chew her response for a moment before chuckling and dipping his head. “Apologies if this Old Sun’s ramblings confuse you, my sight seems to grow muddled at times. It must be all the smoke spewing from these houses that are harming my delicate pupils.” He waved in front of his face. “A good bath should clean things up, I have yet to properly try these new ones.”
…okay, that was a thing. There wasn’t much smog in Brockton though.
Probably cape bullshit.
Taylor nodded and the two resumed walking. She pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed. This was turning out to be the most peculiar day of the past few years. She needed a drink…then a nap. Yes, a nap would be great.
“Ah, have we arrived?”
Taylor stopped and took a moment to register his words. True enough, her house was right there, broken step and all. The lights were out, so Dad wasn’t home yet. Thank goodness for that; the last thing she wanted to do today was explain to him why she looked so worn and a talking monkey was accompanying her.
She saw the monkey look it up and down and felt a flush of shame run up her body. “Yeah, it’s not much but…it’s home.” Full of memories and ghosts, but it was theirs.
“A gold nest or silver nest, none are better than one’s home. A good hammer is what it needs and it would be a true wonder.” He turned to her and bowed again. “It was a pleasure to have your company, my lady. I would offer you this token of our new friendship.” Friendship?
Before Taylor could react, Wukong plucked a few hairs from his arm and blew on them. To her shock, they glowed gold before turning into a brush and a stone.
He held them out to her with both hands, as though he was offering tribute. “A fine brush and inkwell with stone, a worthy gift for any young and aspiring scholar.”
Taylor blinked, freezing in place. The usage of his powers, while certainly bewildering, seemed lesser in comparison to what he did with them. A gift for her? Why? She opened her mouth to try and refuse, there was no need for him to give her a gift - if anything she should be thanking him again - but she stopped when she saw his eager and welcoming smile.
Yeah, there was no way he was going to let her refuse.
She reached out and gingerly took the items from his waiting hands. She didn’t know much about art, but they both looked exquisite. The brush’s dark handle was smooth, the dark grooves adorning its length ghosting under her fingertips, ending with bristles that swelled at the hilt and gathered into a point at the tip. The well was polished and fit neatly into her open palm, ringed with swirled carvings, and divided into two: one half was sunken and oval-shaped, and in the other, smaller half was a rectangular pitch-black stone. Upon touching it, she realized the stone was removable.
For a whole minute, she didn’t move from her spot. She shifted her gaze from the gifts to the monkey. Finally, she managed to utter a single word.
“Why?”
Why her?
His smile widened and his red eyes sparkled with amusement. “Do I need a reason?”
When she didn’t answer, he pulled back his hands and bowed. “I would love to enjoy your company again, Taylor Hebert, but alas I must leave for now. I hope to meet again soon, you are a fascinating young lass.”
No, she wasn’t crying.
The brush was itchy, that’s all.
“Thanks. I-I’d love to talk to you again.”
He rose and turned around, his tail swaying in the faint breeze. She was about to do the same when he spoke one more time.
“Do not let the darkness of the room snuff out your light, young Taylor. If you can find a fire to keep you going, then you will soar.”
With those words, he bent his knees…and jumped high into the air, disappearing beyond the skyline.
What.
After standing there open-mouthed and feeling her eyes were going to pop through her glasses, Taylor finally managed to swallow and head to the door. She stared at the two gifts, and a warmth started to bubble in her gut and up her throat. For the first time in ages, she enjoyed talking to someone. She’d have to look up how to use these on the internet, no way was she going to let them lie in a drawer.
I could soar?
Taunts, pain, and misery haunted her life. Tomorrow, Emma was definitely going to do something that would further sink her into the mud. Dad would come home, and they’d talk and laugh at some joke, all while feeling hollow, yearning for a presence that would never come.
Who was she kidding?
This had to be a reprieve, and only a brief one.
It’s almost funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.
Comments
Daniel
It's nice to see someone be just... friendly to Taylor for once. Ol' Sun, I salute you. Amitābha!
Massgamer
Joined patreon just for this! Still though, poor Taylor's self-esteem will take more than one friendly chat to recover, but the Old Sun has blown on the embers a bit and with some work and time I'm sure that they can grow into the fire we know is there. No doubt Wukong thinks that the possible reincarnation of his old friend is being held down a great deal by her earthly troubles and wants to help her if he can, to return the favor.
