It Couldn't Be Said to Be All Bad!

Sun Wu Kong stared blankly at his master, suddenly overcome with the urge to curse.

No, Master, were you messing with him?

Take a breath, let it out, and that was called the art of immortality?!

If this thing actually worked, wouldn't all the monkeys across Flower-Fruit Mountain have become immortal long ago?!

Yet, seeing Wu E's utterly unquestionable expression, and even the faint satisfaction in his eyes as though Sun Wu Kong had proven teachable, Sun Wu Kong forcibly swallowed the doubts and complaints already at his lips.

What if... what if his realm was simply too low, and he had failed to grasp the earth-shattering mystery hidden within this breathing method?

His master was an expert capable of taking him away right under the noses of so many immortals. He couldn't really be some great fraud, could he?

After struggling for a long while, Sun Wu Kong finally squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth, his voice dry. "M-Master... th-this is it? There's... there's no other chant? Mental cultivation method? Or... some posture to go along with it? Like facing east to absorb purple qi or something?"

At that, Wu E frowned, showing a trace of displeasure that seemed to say, "Why is this child so long-winded?" He sternly rebuked him:

"For such a mere art of immortality, why would there be so much trouble? Chants and cultivation methods? Choosing the time and direction? All such cumbersome formalities are obsessions with outward appearances, the inferior path!"

With a sweep of his sleeve, he spoke rather impatiently. "I already told you, this is merely a minor path! A minor path should be practiced through minor methods. Have you ever seen a woodcutter who had to bathe, burn incense, and recite a spell before swinging his axe? Just chop!