Journey to the West: Starting by taking Sun Wukong as my disciple!-Chapter 116 The Maitreya Buddha Who Stole Food
After all, this was the first time in his life facing such a grand event, so excitement and meticulous preparation were inevitable.
"Yes!" the Immortal Attendant bowed and took the dish.
Sun Wukong nodded, intending to return and remake the dish, but his gaze caught sight of Maitreya Buddha engaging in inappropriate behavior.
How audacious!
To think he would dare run wild in his Imperial Kitchen!
In an instant, Sun Wukong disappeared from the spot, leaving the Immortal Attendant completely baffled.
Where did the head chef go all of a sudden? 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦
Maitreya Buddha’s eager hands were about to succeed, his heart growing more and more excited—this dish’s quality was definitely perfect.
He could already imagine the exceptional moment when the greens would touch his palate, what a delight it would be.
As he was thinking...
Smack!
A furry paw grabbed Maitreya Buddha’s wrist and said, "Now is not the time to eat!"
Hearing the voice beside him, Maitreya Buddha suddenly came back to his senses and looked up to see it was just a monkey; no big deal, he would just continue eating.
Wait a minute!
Maitreya Buddha suddenly froze, then hurriedly scrutinized Sun Wukong from head to toe.
Short in stature, dressed in red, with long fur and a monkey’s face that carried confidence and arrogance. The more he looked, the more familiar he seemed.
Holy crap!
Wasn’t this the same monkey?
Maitreya Buddha’s eyes were wide with shock, his entire being baffled. How did he end up here?
Normally, shouldn’t the monkey be causing a huge disturbance at the Jade Pool banquet?
Could this mean they were destined to cross paths within Buddhism?
He came to the Imperial Kitchen to sneak a meal, and the monkey came to cause trouble?
"What a coincidence, you are here too," Maitreya Buddha said cheerfully, greeting him. After all, being future fellows of the same faith, he didn’t mind saying hello in advance.
Sun Wukong: ???
What was this thief talking about? Why did it seem so utterly nonsensical?
"Coincidence my ass!" Sun Wukong sneered, "Don’t try to bluff your way out!"
"Just admit it, you came here to steal a meal, didn’t you?"
Maitreya Buddha, devoid of the mannerisms of a Quasi-Saint, said cheerfully, "How can the actions of an ascetic be called stealing? That’s called seeking alms."
"You came here without permission, isn’t that the same as taking liberties?"
Maitreya Buddha shook his head, speaking in all seriousness, "This humble monk is simply following the guidance of our Buddha Ancestor, acting according to the Buddhist heart."
He was a Buddha himself; he revered his own guidance, and there was nothing wrong with that.
"This humble monk entered through the front gate, didn’t everyone see? Where’s the question of sneaking around then?"
For a moment, Sun Wukong was at a loss for words; perhaps the chubby one made some sense.
"Don’t just talk about this humble monk. You came too, didn’t you? You are even worse than this humble monk!" Maitreya Buddha said indignantly.
This damned monkey, why create trouble at any feast?
But he was quite shrewd, knowing to start from the source.
This left Sun Wukong slightly confused, "What’s wrong with me coming here?"
As the main chef of the Flat Peach banquet, should he not be here cooking instead of sitting idle at the Jade Pool feast, waiting to eat?
"This humble monk has come to seek alms. Aren’t you here to make trouble?"
It was like the pot calling the kettle black, and now he was pretending with him.
Maitreya Buddha rolled his eyes, but he realized something in his heart—surely the monkey was here to probe because he couldn’t discern Maitreya’s own level of Quasi-Saint cultivation, interrupting his antics to get a sense of who he was dealing with, right?
Just perfect, waiting until after his meal to cause trouble wouldn’t be too late, and his trip wouldn’t have been in vain.
"I am a chef in the Imperial Kitchen; what trouble could I cause? But you, you fatso, babble like a madman. If we let you go, who knows what trouble you might stir up? We must detain you and watch you closely!" Sun Wukong said with a serious face.
This was his first time in charge of such a grand banquet; there could be no mistakes.
"You’re a chef?!" Maitreya Buddha nearly jumped up in excitement, his flesh quivering.
Sun Wukong’s face was lined with exasperation as the As-You-Will Kitchen Knife appeared in a flash, and he demonstrated a few sword skills, saying, "Are you questioning my cooking skills?"
Even if others said he lacked strength, Sun Wukong wouldn’t react, but aside from his master, no one else was qualified to question his culinary level.
Maitreya Buddha fell silent, his mind in a total muddle. Wasn’t this all planned out?
Sun Wukong was supposed to be guarding the flat peaches, and incidentally, eating them to improve his cultivation. What was the Heavenly Court’s strategy here?
Why assign the monkey a cooking task? How would this affect the Peach Banquet?
Was the monkey going to poison the food?
"Thinking of stealing the dishes here? No chance!"
"Everything here is already prepared, to be used when serving the dishes later. If you really want to eat, I’ll take you to the back kitchen."
Sun Wukong then thought, if someone bothered to travel all this way to steal a taste of his dishes, it must be a sign of support and recognition for his cooking skills. Thus, looking at Maitreya Buddha’s chubby face didn’t bother him anymore.
Yanking Maitreya Buddha by the arm, he didn’t wait for a reply and, with some difficulty, squeezed through the door to the back kitchen.
"Fatso, you should really lose some weight," Sun Wukong said, shaking his arm, kindly reminding him.
Boy, this fatso was really heavy—it was almost impossible to pull him inside.
"Great Immortal Wukong, what is this?" The busy Kitchen God, the God of Cookery, Zhou Kang, and the rest were startled as they looked at Maitreya Buddha whom Sun Wukong had brought in.
The God of Cookery and the Kitchen God, upon recognizing the visitor, shuddered and hastily greeted, "We welcome the Buddha Ancestor."
Even though they were minor deities, they had spent countless years in the Heavenly Court and were well-versed with many of the immortals and Buddhas in the Three Realms.
As one of the three great Buddha Ancestors of Buddhism and the Future Buddha, Maitreya might not be well-known, but that didn’t stop him from possessing high levels of cultivation.
These junior deities had to show their respect.
"Greetings, Buddha Ancestor," Zhou Kang also did not dare to slack off and followed the two deities’ example in greeting.
Buddha Ancestor?
Sun Wukong was taken aback; he had never had any dealings with Buddhist forces and didn’t know what the concept of a Buddha Ancestor meant in Buddhism, so he didn’t care much.
After all, he acknowledged only one master.
"Enough, enough, I’ve never cared for such formalities. Everyone, rise," Maitreya Buddha said with a jovial laugh.
He had no idea why this monkey insisted on dragging him to the back kitchen.
Sun Wukong ignored Maitreya Buddha and continued with his work; the Kung Pao Chicken still needed to be cooked.
The original requirement for the Peach Banquet was three hundred sixty-five dishes, with twelve variations of each dish.
Reflecting the number of heaven, twelve was considered perfect.
They had been busy since early on, and the tables outside were equipped with arrays that maintained the temperature and freshness of the dishes, so the food wouldn’t cool down or spoil once placed on them.
The first serving was just a trial; there were still eleven servings pending.
Materials had already been processed by Zhou Kang and the two deities; Sun Wukong just needed to stir-fry them.
He was to stir-fry eleven plates at once, and the pot was definitely big enough!
Cooking in a large pot may look simple, but it’s actually quite difficult—the greater the quantity, the more uneven the heating.
When it came to seasoning, quantity control, and heat management, it was extremely challenging.
But Sun Wukong was confident enough.
In his hands, the largest of pots seemed weightless, as natural as an extension of his arm, and he flipped it with ease.
Utterly domineering.
The challenging issue of even heating was effortless to resolve, with various seasonings tossed and turned.
His movements were as fluid as a passing cloud or flowing water, as if engraved in his very bones.
