I am submissive in Journey to the West, I strike hard at the gods

Upon hearing this, Pigsy couldn't help but say, "Brother Monkey, you're really done for this time."

In my humble opinion, we should ask the Jade Emperor; he has treasures in Heaven.

Wukong sneered: "Fool, the road to Heaven is far, are you going to carry your master there?"

Pigsy scratched his head: "Then...then I'll carry the old turtle?"

While the master and disciple were chatting, Tang Sanzang suddenly felt the glue loosen, as if there was a sign of relief, but then it tightened again, making the pain even worse.

He murmured, "Amitabha... If this is the will of Heaven, I will accept it willingly."

Seeing this, Wukong felt a pang of heartache and vowed inwardly, "Master, I will definitely break this deadlock! Jiang Wang, you just wait and see!"

As the sun began to set, wildflowers swayed along the riverbank. The master and his apprentice faced a predicament, their journey as turbulent as the flowing river.

Wukong, stuck to the shell, was lost in thought, recalling the sigh of the Bodhisattva of the South Sea, the shaking of Bodhi Patriarch, and the casual wave of Shennong.

The bone spears wielded by the two human guards were filled with resentment and nearly cost him his monkey life.

But when the Holy Emperor appeared, the black lightning swept away everything in its path, its power like a mountain pressing down, even making this Great Saint feel awe.

"Since the Holy Emperor knows about glue, why doesn't he solve this problem?"

Wukong muttered to himself, but had no answer.

Pigsy, gnawing on grass roots nearby, said with a loud chewing sound, "Brother Monkey, what are you thinking about? I'm hungry, Brother Sandy, share some of your dry rations with me."

Sha Wujing handed over a steamed bun: "Second Brother, eat this."

Master, senior brother, we need to think of a long-term solution.

This shell, stuck to the body, exposed to wind and sun, is barely holding up the master's golden statue.

Tang Sanzang nodded: "Sha Wujing is right."

"Wukong, when you went to Shouyang, did the Holy Emperor say a single word to you?"

Wukong shook his head: "He only said that Laozi was in seclusion for three to five years."

He spoke so casually, as if I, Old Sun, owed him money.

I didn't stand on ceremony with him, and he didn't mind either, just waved me off.

Who knew that when I woke up...

He looked down at the glue and said angrily, "This glue must have been the culprit on the way here! The moment my spirit wavered, it pounced on me."

The old turtle sighed, "Great Sage, my shell is the place where Yin and Yang meet. The glue uses the shell to generate strength, making it stickier."

"This humble monk is innocent, yet I cannot escape this predicament."

Upon hearing this, Wukong patted the shell to comfort him: "Old turtle, don't worry."

"I, Old Sun, will protect you."

But as soon as he finished speaking, the glue got even hotter, causing everyone to cry out in pain.

Night falls again, and the stars twinkle.

Wukong blew on a monkey hair, which transformed into a small monkey, to guard the river at night.

Pigsy snored loudly, Sandy silently recited scriptures, and Tang Sanzang closed his eyes to rest.

The glue glowed with a ghostly green light under the moonlight, like a whisper from a ghost.

Wukong knew that this tribulation could not be resolved in a day; it was as difficult as a mountain and full of twists and turns.

But the journey to the West was inherently like this, and Sun Wukong never retreated. The next morning, the fog rose.

When Wukong woke up, the first thing he looked at was his master. Seeing that Tang Sanzang was barely breathing, he quickly said, "Master! Hold on! I have a plan—grow bigger and break this glue!"

He channeled his divine power, causing his body to swell. The glue stretched like silk, causing excruciating pain that could crack bones, yet it only lengthened without breaking.

"No! Too tough!"

When Pigsy woke up, he saw the sight and laughed, "Brother Monkey, you've turned into a giant turtle? Haha!"

Wukong glared at him: "Idiot! Laugh again and I'll really beat you up!"

Pigsy shrank back: "I dare not."

"Brother Sha, tell me, this glue sticks to monkeys and people, but not pigs. Why is that?"

Sha Wujing said, "Second Brother, don't talk nonsense."

Perhaps because of the senior brother's supernatural powers, the glue feared him, thus adhering firmly.

Upon hearing this, Wukong smiled wryly: "What's there to be afraid of! This is revenge for me cutting it down earlier!"

The old turtle chuckled: "The Great Sage is wise."

On this humble monk's body, this glue is like home, binding loved ones even more tightly.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang reluctantly replied, "Old turtle benefactor, do not worry."

As a teacher, I believe in cause and effect; this glue will surely be dissolved eventually.

But before he could finish speaking, the pain returned, and he gritted his teeth and endured it.

During a casual chat between master and disciple, Wukong suddenly recalled Shennong's words: "Seclusion for three to five years... Laozi, you old Taoist priest, what kind of elixir have you been refining for so long!"

He was so angry he wanted to grind his teeth, but Pigsy said, "Brother Monkey, don't be angry."

I think we should ask the Goddess Nuwa; she has the skills to mend the sky.

Wukong shook his head: "It's far away, Master can't wait."

Sha Wujing said, "Brother, why don't we try soaking it in the river? Last night I saw that glue softens when it gets wet."

Wukong's eyes lit up: "Brilliant! Bajie, carry the shell down into the river!"

Bajie snorted, "Me? Brother Monkey, you stick to me, I can't handle it all by myself."

With the help of Sha Wujing, the three of them worked together to push the turtle shell into the shallow water.

The glue softened slightly upon contact with the river, but then hardened again, sticking to Sha Wujing's hand.

"Ouch! Third Junior Brother has fallen for it too?"

Goku laughed.

Sha Wujing shook his head: "It's alright."

A fleeting moment of weakness is useless.

Pigsy said, "It's all for nothing."

In my opinion, this glue is a natural trial, testing our patience.

Tang Sanzang nodded: "It's rare to find someone as clever as Pigsy."

"This is precisely the kind of tempering a teacher needs to cultivate a firm character."

Day after day, the master and apprentice lived a life of sticky shells.

Wukong tried every day—swords, saws, fire, water, his own spirit, and monkey hair—and failed every time.

The glue was like a stubborn enemy, growing stronger with each battle.

The Bodhisattva and the Ancestor were helpless, Shennong acted arbitrarily, the guardian bone spear shattered in lightning, everything was like a nightmare.

Pigsy continued to mock, but gradually grew fearful; Sandy guarded him relentlessly, remaining silent as a mountain; Tang Sanzang's compassion remained unchanged, and he chanted Buddhist prayers amidst his pain.

Finally, a month passed, and the green luster of the glue faded, showing signs of fatigue.

Seeing this, Wukong was overjoyed: "Master! It's getting weak! I, Old Sun, will put in a little more effort!"

He blew away all the monkey hair, transforming it into a thousand monkeys attacking the glue. The green silk trembled and emitted a low hum. Pigsy exclaimed in surprise, "Brother Monkey, is it done?"

But then, the glue suddenly swelled up, sticking the little monkey completely to the glue. Wukong cursed, "Damn it! It cheated!"

In the vast wilderness of Journey to the West, the mist along the Tongtian River is like a veil, enveloping an eerie tranquility.

The river flows quietly, yet it seems bound by invisible shackles, its surface undisturbed.

On the riverbank, a giant old turtle emerged from the water, with four figures stuck to its shell—the four members of the Tang Monk's group, who were firmly stuck together by a strange glue and unable to move.

The glue seeped into their very souls like a living thing; its stickiness was so strong that even Sun Wukong's golden cudgel couldn't pry it open even a fraction.

This glue was a trap set by the mysterious Jiang Wang, specifically designed to hinder the journey to the West.

Pigsy, his face bruised and swollen, blood still trickling from his snout, lay pitifully on the edge of the tortoise shell, sobbing, "Master, you must do me justice! That damned monkey... Sun Wukong, he bullied me! I, Old Pig, just casually said, 'This glue is as sticky as your monkey hair, you can't pull it off,' and he summoned a bunch of little monkeys to beat me up! Look at my face, swollen like a pig's head!"

As Bajie spoke, he rubbed his eyes, tears mixed with nosebleeds streaming down his face, looking utterly pathetic.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang frowned and turned as pale as a sheet.

He sat cross-legged on the tortoise shell, his monk's robes soaked with glue and mottled, yet he still maintained a certain otherworldly air.

"Wukong, is this really true?"

Tang Sanzang turned to look at Sun Wukong, who was lazily leaning against Bajie with his arms crossed, looking completely indifferent. His golden eyes were narrowed into slits, and a mocking smile hung on the corner of his mouth.

Sun Wukong scratched his cheek and chuckled, "Master, why are you asking me? This fool talks without thinking. I'm just teaching him some manners."

Those little monkeys? Hey, they came to help on their own initiative; I didn't give them any orders.

"Pigsy, don't you agree? Watch your mouth next time, and stop trying to talk behind my back!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Wukong's golden cudgel transformed into a thin stick and gently tapped Bajie's pig's hoof. Bajie cried out in pain and quickly withdrew his hand, not daring to utter another sound.

"Wukong! Stop fooling around!"

Tang Sanzang rebuked, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority, "Now the four of us, master and disciples, are trapped by this strange glue, and our journey to the west has come to a standstill."

I know you have a rebellious nature, but Pigsy is also your junior brother. How can you act rashly? Quickly find a way to get out of this predicament!

Tang Sanzang's eyes were filled with sorrow. He was determined to go west to obtain the scriptures, how could he endure such torment? The glue could stick to their bodies, but it seeped into their souls, making it impossible for them to even use magic to fly away. They could only lie on the back of the old turtle like ordinary people, letting the river water beat against them.

Upon hearing this, Sun Wukong shrugged, lay down, and put his hands behind his head: "Master, I, Old Sun, have already gone to the Heavenly Court to beg Laozi for help."

The old man wasn't home; the alchemy room was empty.

I searched the alchemy furnace thoroughly, but I couldn't find any magic solution to this glue.

This glue belongs to Jiang Wang; according to his style, it won't expire automatically for three years.

I, Old Sun, advise you to just lie down. The scriptures of the Buddha in the Western Paradise aren't going anywhere.

Wukong's words carried a hint of helplessness, but more so a sense of laziness.

He was originally the Monkey King, unruly and arrogant. Faced with such an unsolvable predicament, he developed a bit of a "watching the show" mentality.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang felt as if his heart was being torn apart.

Three years? Wouldn't that mean the journey to the West would be indefinitely delayed? He murmured, "Three years... how will we, master and disciples, eat, drink, and relieve ourselves in three years? Wukong, do you have a good plan?"

Tang Sanzang's eyes gleamed with hope. He was the one on the pilgrimage; how could he stand by and watch the progress stall? Wukong rolled over and glanced at the river: "Eating and drinking? Simple. I, Old Sun, will transform into a group of monkeys and go to the mountains and forests to find fruits and wild game. That'll be enough for Master and my fellow disciples to fill their stomachs."

"Go to the toilet? Hey, just do it here. This is the wilderness by the river, who cares?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the old turtle's shell trembled violently. The old turtle was originally a thousand-year-old demon in the Tongtian River with profound cultivation, but because of a moment of soft-heartedness, it had been glued to the four masters and disciples. Upon hearing this, it immediately erupted in chaos.

"Stop talking nonsense! Let's settle this here!"

The old turtle's voice boomed like thunder from beneath its shell, causing the river to churn. "This turtle shell of mine is formed from my physical body and primordial spirit. If you defecate on it, the filth will seep directly into my very essence, damaging my millennia of cultivation! My cultivation has been arduous; how can I bear such an insult? Get down here immediately, I won't carry you any longer!"

The old turtle was so angry that its head popped out of the water, its beady eyes wide open, and its beard trembling wildly, looking just like a bullied old man.

Upon hearing this, Pigsy chuckled, his pig snout bulging: "Grandpa Turtle, you're right! I, Old Pig, can't stand it either! This glue is so tight, I can't move at all. If I poop, won't I just stink up myself? Master, listen to this monkey, he's always coming up with terrible ideas!"

As he spoke, he stole glances at Wukong, his eyes filled with schadenfreude.

Wukong was displeased and swung his staff: "Idiot, stop stirring up trouble! Old turtle, if you don't want to carry it, just say so, and I, Old Sun, will find a way!"

Seeing this, Tang Sanzang quickly waved his hand to stop them: "Don't fight! Old turtle benefactor, thank you for taking us in this time."

Please forgive me if Wukong's words are inappropriate.

"Does the benefactor have a way to relieve your predicament?"

Upon hearing this, the old turtle sighed, its glans slowly retracting to the surface of the water, its voice low and deep: "Elder Tang, although I have no way to untangle the glue, I do have something that may temporarily alleviate your thirst."

As soon as he finished speaking, a ripple appeared on the water's surface, and a crystal-clear pill was spat out of the old turtle's mouth and floated onto its shell.

The pill was entirely emerald green and emitted a faint fragrance. It was the Bigu Pill, cultivated by the old turtle for a thousand years. One pill could ensure that one would not eat or drink for five years, without hunger or thirst, and without any worries about defecating or urinating.

Tang Sanzang's eyes lit up, and he put his hands together in prayer: "Thank you, benefactor! This humble monk will take it now."

He carefully put the elixir into his monk's robe, tilted his head back, and swallowed it.

The elixir melted instantly upon entering his mouth, and a warm current flowed straight into his dantian. Tang Sanzang immediately felt his hunger dissipate, his whole body feel comfortable, and his spirit become clear.

"Wonderful! This elixir is indeed miraculously effective. This humble monk will not need to eat or drink for five years, and will be able to concentrate on devising a plan to escape this predicament."

Tang Sanzang was delighted and then pleaded with the old turtle: "Benefactor, since it is already like this, why not carry us, master and disciples, westward? When we successfully obtain the scriptures, Buddha will surely share in the merit, and you, benefactor, can also benefit from it and attain enlightenment."

Upon hearing this, the old turtle's shell sank slightly, but it shook its head and said, "I appreciate Elder Tang's kindness."

But walking on the shore is extremely slow. Not only does it exhaust my old bones, but it also makes me vulnerable to being targeted by demons.

"I've grown accustomed to my freedom in the Tongtian River; as for the journey west, I'd prefer to seek a more capable advisor."

The old turtle's words carried a hint of helplessness, yet remained as firm as a rock.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang's heart sank, and the journey to the West came to a standstill once again.

He looked westward, where the setting sun was like blood, and the river reflected the figures of the four travelers. The glue was like a shackle, binding their steps and also binding their long journey westward.

Meanwhile, in the distant city of Chang'an, a secluded realm, shrouded in mist and isolated from the world, exists.

Jiang Wang sat cross-legged on a futon, holding a dark, ancient book of curses. As the pages turned, it emitted an aura of the underworld.

His face was handsome, yet it carried a hint of malice, and his eyes gleamed with ambitious light.

Jiang Wang was an anomaly in the Journey to the West world. With the help of this Book of Curses, he quietly stirred up the winds and clouds in the Heavenly Court, all for the hidden rewards and lottery opportunities.

"Old man Haotian, it's your turn again today."

Jiang Wang murmured, and black energy surged on the pages of the book. He had spent thirty million years of divine power to infuse the book's core.

An invisible curse-like force headed straight for the Heavenly Palace of Lingxiao.

The Jade Emperor was sitting upright in the Golden Palace, reviewing the Heavenly Decrees, when he suddenly felt a jolt in his heart and his primordial spirit trembled violently.

"here we go again!"

Haotian cried out, his face turned deathly pale, as if a thousand arrows had pierced his chest, his immortal body collapsed, and he vanished into the void as a golden light.

The Book of Curses hummed, and a line of bloody words appeared on its pages: "Successfully killed Haotian with a curse, triggering the hidden quest: Wheel of Curses."

Reward: A handful of Heavenly Soil.

Jiang Wang smiled and a clump of milky white soil appeared in his palm, warm to the touch and containing the power of creation.

"Good stuff! Cursing Haotian multiple times has actually triggered a hidden quest."

Next time, we'll continue after he's resurrected.

He muttered to himself, his eyes full of calculation.

To accumulate fifteen experience points for the lottery draw in order to refine the Chaos Pearl, Jiang Wang would spare no effort. (End of Chapter)