On the tenth day of practicing the Object Manipulation Art, Goten could already make seven stones of different sizes float in the air at once, circle around him, and then settle neatly back where they had started.
But Patriarch Bodhi said it still wasn't enough—"The Object Manipulation Art isn't for putting on acrobatic shows."
Goten stood on the training ground, the seven stones laid out in front of him.
He didn't control them all at once as he had before. First, he made the smallest one rise, then used it to touch the second—not directly, but by extending his Origin Energy to envelop the second stone, like one hand reaching out to hold another.
Both stones floated into the air. Then he used the same method to touch the third. Like dominoes, one after another, all seven stones rose in turn, hovering in the air in a straight line.
But he didn't stop there.
He controlled the seven stones, making them slowly spin in the air, faster and faster. Then he thrust out his hand, and all seven stones shot in the same direction at once—BOOM!
The seven stones struck the target in the distance almost simultaneously, blasting a bowl-sized hole through its wooden bull's-eye.
At the edge of the training ground, Patriarch Bodhi watched in silence, a cup of tea in hand. He said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
"You've practiced the Object Manipulation Art to this level. You can move on to the next step."
Goten's eyes lit up. "The Star Gate?"
Patriarch Bodhi set down his teacup and glanced at him. "You do have a good memory. Not the Star Gate—Distance Folding."
"Distance Folding?"
"'Fold' a stretch of distance." Patriarch Bodhi pinched a fallen leaf between two fingers. "For example, you're standing here, and your destination is over there. Imagine the distance between you as a piece of cloth, then pull it tight—"
He placed the leaf in his palm. It disappeared, then reappeared on a tree branch thirty feet away, wedged neatly in the fork.
Goten's eyes widened. "Isn't that teleportation?"
"No. Teleportation moves you. Distance Folding moves space. You remain where you are; the road itself grows shorter."
"How do I practice it?"
"First, learn to fold." Patriarch Bodhi pointed at the ground. "From here to that Old Locust Tree is twenty zhang. Use your Origin Energy to lock onto its position, imagine the distance as a piece of cloth, then grab it and fold it once."
Goten took a deep breath and extended his right hand. Origin Energy reached out from his palm, locking onto the Old Locust Tree twenty zhang away.
He could clearly sense the tree's Origin Energy. It was breathing, in rhythm with the wind. Then he imagined the distance as a piece of cloth and reached out to grab it.
Nothing happened. The distance didn't budge.
"Your Origin Energy isn't precise enough yet," Patriarch Bodhi reminded him. "Folding space isn't like lifting a rock. A rock is solid; space is fluid.
"You can't grab it by force. You have to follow its grain."
Goten adjusted the way he sensed it. Instead of trying to grab the space, he searched for its "grain," following its texture.
He found it. Space wasn't uniform. Some places were dense, others sparse. Where Origin Energy flowed faster, space was "thinner" and easier to fold. He chose three spots where the flow was quicker, then folded them all at once.
The scenery before his eyes wavered like ripples across a pond. Then he found himself standing beneath the Old Locust Tree.
He hadn't walked there. He really had crossed twenty zhang in a single step.
He looked back at the training ground. Patriarch Bodhi was still standing where he'd been. Goten confirmed one thing: he'd really done it.
"I did it!"
Patriarch Bodhi still held his cup of tea. He said mildly, "You succeeded on your first try. You were half a day faster than Sun the Monkey."
At noon, Zhu Bajie squatted outside the kitchen, peeling potatoes.
His movements were slow, and he was using the Nine-Toothed Rake.
"Isn't the rake meant for fighting?" Goten squatted beside him, watching as Zhu Bajie used the tips of its tines to peel potatoes. He was surprisingly skilled.
"When I'm fighting, it's a weapon. When I'm not, it's a multipurpose farming tool." Zhu Bajie didn't look up. "Back when I was a son-in-law at Gao Village, I used this thing to work the fields every day."
Goten watched him finish peeling a pile of potatoes, then start slicing radishes. Every cut was neat and uniform.
His pace wasn't fast or slow. There was a rhythm to it that was hard to describe.
"Were you really Marshal Tianpeng?"
Zhu Bajie's hand paused for a moment, then continued slicing. "I was." His voice was flat, giving away nothing.
"Then why were you—"
"Demoted? For harassing Chang'e." Zhu Bajie finished the question for him. "But that wasn't really the reason."
Goten said nothing. Zhu Bajie fell silent for a long while before continuing. "I saw something I wasn't supposed to see."
"What?"
Zhu Bajie set down his knife. For the first time, Goten saw an utterly unfamiliar expression on the pig's face that was always laughing and joking: seriousness. "When I was patrolling the Heavenly River, I saw a door at the bottom of it."
"A door?"
"A door that shouldn't have been there. The light coming through its cracks wasn't light from the Three Realms. It was light from beyond."
"Beyond... what do you mean?"
"Beyond the Three Realms." Zhu Bajie lowered his voice. "At the time, I didn't know what it was. But now I suspect it was a passage for the Heavenly Demons."
Goten froze.
Zhu Bajie—the Zhu Bajie who spent every day eating and sleeping—had once seen a passage for the Heavenly Demons.
And he'd never told anyone.
"Why tell me now?"
"Because I'd been demoted, and no one would believe a demoted Marshal Tianpeng." Zhu Bajie picked up his knife and continued slicing the radishes. "Besides, that door had already closed. But it wasn't locked."
A chill ran down Goten's back. There was a door at the bottom of the Heavenly River. It wasn't locked, and it led beyond the Three Realms.
"I'm telling you now because..." Zhu Bajie put the sliced radishes into a bowl. "You might go there."
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