Sun Wukong stood where he was.
His feet seemed rooted to the ground.
He did not move an inch.
His Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils operated at full power.
Golden light poured from his eyes.
Like a miniature sun, it blazed forth in the Chechi Kingdom.
Passersby turned to look.
The townspeople pointed and whispered.
"What was that monkey doing now?"
"His eyes were glowing gold?"
"Had he gone mad?"
"Had losing the contest driven him over the edge?"
Sun Wukong turned a deaf ear.
All his attention was focused on his Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils.
These were his eyes at their most powerful.
Yet today, in the Chechi Kingdom, his Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils had struggled for the first time.
It was not that he could not see through things.
He simply could not see deep enough.
He could see through the restrictions on the Vermilion Lacquer Cabinet.
He could see through the magical power within the three royal preceptors.
But none of that was enough.
He needed to see deeper.
Deeper still.
Deep enough to find the true turning point hidden beneath every outward appearance.
He drew a deep breath.
He closed his eyes.
He concentrated his essence, qi, and spirit as never before.
Essence.
Qi.
Spirit.
The three became one.
Like a red-hot iron hammer, they slammed into the depths of his consciousness.
Sun Wukong's eyes snapped open.
But this time, there was no golden light in them.
There was fire.
Crimson, scorching, churning flame.
It burned forth from the depths of his pupils.
A low hum emanated from his body.
Not from his mouth.
Not from his limbs.
But from deep within his marrow.
From deep within his soul.
From the deepest recesses of every inch of skin, every bone, and every meridian.
Tang