Samantabhadra Bodhisattva's expression was extremely ugly, his face so gloomy it seemed ready to drip water.
Seeing this, Sun Wukong could not help but inwardly rejoice.
To him, seeing an enemy suffer was like eating a slice of ice-cold watermelon on a scorching summer day. It was refreshing to the very core.
What Sun Wukong regretted was that he had never witnessed Ding Ling displaying his might in person.
At the time, he had been wholly focused on matching wits and battling against Tang Sanzang and Guanyin Bodhisattva. How could he have spared any thought for Great Tang's Ding Ling?
By the time things had settled on his end,
Ding Ling had already swept the temples across Great Tang clean. When Sun Wukong wanted to investigate further, it was already too late.
"I wonder whether Guanyin will go to Great Tang?"
Golden light flickered uncertainly in Sun Wukong's eyes.
"If both Bodhisattvas go to Great Tang, Ding Ling may find himself unable to defeat four hands with his two fists."
Sun Wukong knew that he was no match for Guanyin Bodhisattva.
Not to mention facing two Bodhisattvas.
He was like this.
What about Ding Ling?
Thinking of this, he could not help but take a pessimistic view. He even felt a sense of when the rabbit dies, the fox grieves; when one of their kind suffers, the others are saddened.
He sighed, and an impulse arose in his heart:
He had to go help Ding Ling and ambush the two Bodhisattvas!
But after thinking it over from every angle, he still gave up.
His spirit was far weaker than before.
His strength was shackled, and the Tightening Hoop Curse Source constantly locked down his soul.
If he confronted Guanyin Bodhisattva head-on, the Tightening Hoop Curse Source might lock him in