Bamboo Staff and Afterimages

That afternoon, Zhi Zun Bao practiced with his staff beneath the Old Locust Tree.

He had traded the bamboo pole for a wooden staff—one Patriarch Bodhi had dug out of the woodshed, saying it had been left behind by an old friend.

A line of tiny characters was carved into the staff: "I am the Son Goku who caused Havoc in Heaven five hundred years ago."

When Zhi Zun Bao saw the inscription, he chuckled. He suddenly realized that Patriarch Bodhi might not have "dug it out" at all. He had probably kept it all along.

He gripped the staff tightly and began repeating the same simple movement: raise it, bring it down, draw it back.

He had already done it several thousand times. He had snapped seven bamboo poles, and the surface of the wooden staff had grown rough with splinters.

But he could feel his grip changing. At first, he had been swinging "a staff." Now he was swinging "his staff." Only those who had trained would understand the difference.

After an unknown number of strikes, he suddenly felt the figure before him flicker.

It wasn't him moving. Another "him" had appeared in his field of vision—a phantom making the same movements as he was, only faster, more forcefully, and with greater precision.

He saw the phantom bring its staff down, its shadow tracing an arc through the air. The arc struck a fallen leaf three zhang away, splitting it in two.

Zhi Zun Bao froze. The leaf really had been split apart. But he hadn't swung his staff at all. The phantom had.

Goten ran over from the other end of the training ground. He had seen it too. "What was that just now?"

Zhi Zun Bao looked down at his hand. A faint golden glow was fading from his palm. "I don't know."

But Patriarch Bodhi did.

Standing at the cave entrance, he watched from afar. He had seen the phantom. It was the battle memory of Sun Wukong, lingering in Zhi Zun Bao's bloodline, finally taking "physical form" for the first time after countless hours of training.

It was called Afterimage Fist, a technique Sun Wukong had created in his youth.

It wasn't a clone technique. It was the "imprint" left in the air when one moved at the utmost speed.

Patriarch Bodhi didn't go over to explain. He knew that some things Zhi Zun Bao had to discover for himself.

At dusk, Zixia found Goten adjusting his Origin Energy for the Object Manipulation Art.

"I want to go down the mountain tomorrow." Goten looked up at her. "Are you going to Five Finger Mountain?" Zixia asked.

Goten was silent for a moment. "The Golden Cudgel is calling me. The voice gets louder every day. I feel like if I don't go soon, it might fly over here by itself."

Zixia thought it over. "Before you go to Five Finger Mountain, you need to learn Star Gate."

"I know. Patriarch Bodhi said he'd teach me Star Gate after I learned Distance Folding, but I don't know how much longer that'll take."

Zixia suddenly drew the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword. Its blade gleamed in the setting sun. "Hit me with all your strength."

Goten froze. "What?"

"Give it everything you've got. Use your new Object Manipulation Art and punch me."

Goten hesitated, but he trusted that Zixia wouldn't ask him to do something pointless. He took a deep breath, gathered Origin Energy in his fist, and threw a punch!

The Violet-Azure Treasure Sword flashed.

For an instant, the blade gave off a clear, ringing hum, as if answering—as if calling out.

"Just as I thought." Zixia sheathed the sword. "The Violet-Azure Treasure Sword reacted just now. Not to me, but to you."

Goten froze. "What do you mean?"

"It acknowledges you," Zixia said softly. "It hasn't chosen you as its master, but it recognizes you. It thinks you can wield it."

She fell silent for a moment, then said something that surprised Goten. "Take it with you when you go down the mountain."

"But isn't this your sword?"

"A sword is just an object. The one who needs it is the one worthy of carrying it." Zixia looked at him, her gaze holding something hard to describe, like a farewell. "The Golden Cudgel and the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword know each other. If you take it with you, the Golden Cudgel will trust you more easily."

Goten took the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword. Its blade was warm, like someone's body heat.

That night, Goten sat alone in a pavilion at the summit. Beneath the moonlight, he rested the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword across his knees, feeling the warmth still lingering in its blade.

Patriarch Bodhi came up and sat beside him. This time, he didn't speak first. He simply gazed at the night sky with Goten.

"Old sir."

"Hmm?"

"I'll be leaving soon."

The corners of Patriarch Bodhi's mouth twitched slightly. He didn't ask, "How do you know?" or say, "What's the rush?" He knew Goten was right.

"The Golden Cudgel gets louder every day." Goten lowered his head. "I can hear it when I sleep, when I train, even when I eat."

Patriarch Bodhi was quiet for a while. Then he asked, "Are you ready?"

Goten thought it over. "I don't know. But I feel like if I wait until I'm 'ready,' I might never leave at all."

Patriarch Bodhi looked at the boy. When Goten said those words, his voice was so calm, as if he were stating the obvious.

Suddenly, Patriarch Bodhi understood. The boy didn't need his protection. He only needed someone to open that door for him.

"Starting tomorrow, you'll learn Star Gate."

Goten turned to look at him, startled.

"If you learn it, you can leave the mountain. If you don't, you'll stay here."

Goten stood and bowed deeply. "Thank you."

Patriarch Bodhi didn't reply. But he knew that tomorrow would be the most important morning of the boy's time on Fangcun Mountain. It might also be his last.

Far away, the Golden Cudgel trembled softly, as if it had heard good news.