At Spiritual Mountain, in the serene Zen Courtyard behind the Grand Hall of Great Heroes.
Sun Wukong—or rather, "Wukong"—had been recuperating here for several months.
The diluted spiritual fluid from the Eight Treasures Merit Pool and Buddhism's sacred medicines had barely kept him alive, but the Heavenly Dao scars that had seeped into his marrow and annihilated his primordial spirit clung to him like gangrene, constantly eroding his vitality and potential.
His body no longer shone with golden light or radiated spiritual grace as it once had. Instead, it bore a gray, decaying hue, like an exquisite porcelain vessel covered in cracks that would completely shatter with the slightest force.
The circulation of spiritual power within him had become incomparably sluggish. His innate instinct to automatically absorb the Spiritual Energy of Heaven and Earth had nearly been severed.
Every attempt to draw spiritual energy into his body felt like traversing a mountain of blades and a sea of fire. His meridians tore with agonizing pain, while the meager spiritual power he managed to gather often dispersed without a trace the moment it touched the scars on his Dao Foundation.
"Cough... cough, cough..." In the quiet chamber, Sun Wukong clutched his chest and let out a suppressed fit of coughing. A trace of pale golden blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were filled with unwillingness and irritation. The liveliness and defiance of an Innate Spirit Monkey had been deeply suppressed by the weakness of his body and the despair of his path.
Patriarch Bodhi, Zhunti's incarnation, came regularly to examine him. Each time, he used supreme Buddhist techniques to sort through the violent remnants of heavenly punishment within Sun Wukong and nurture his shattered foundation.
Yet even the power of a Sage achieved only half the result