Journey to the West: Starting by taking Sun Wukong as my disciple!-Chapter 335 Jin Chanzi Breaks His Precepts
The meat’s innate savory aroma, coupled with the thick and umami-rich sauce, lingered in the mouth, leaving a fragrance on the lips and teeth that made one reminisce.
These red-braised spare ribs are to die for!
Maitreya couldn’t help but internally sing praises, truly deserving of being the one the Heavenly Court honors as the head chef—it wasn’t for nothing.
What he was more curious about, though, was if even his disciple was this skilled, just how heaven-defying must his master’s cooking be?
Maitreya still remembered what Sun Wukong had said, that his master’s culinary skills far surpassed his own.
And also possessing the most inconceivable ability, which could cause those who ate his dishes to awaken divine skills!
His own Great Stomach Capacity divine skill came in this way, and just thinking about it made him feel both anxious and unsettled.
What kind of profound mana and heaven-shaking power must someone who could casually induce others to awaken divine skills possess?
Anyway, even if it were incredibly strong it wouldn’t matter, as he bore no malice; all he had was an empty stomach.
Sun Wukong had already told him the place, so after this Dharma gathering ended, he would definitely seize the opportunity to witness it himself!
"Uncle Master, how is the taste?"
Just as Maitreya was savoring the dish, Jin Chanzi’s voice suddenly interrupted from behind, startling him into a tremor of his chopsticks.
"Delicious! Of course, it’s delicious! I dare to guarantee that this dish ranks at the top among the Three Realms!" Maitreya praised generously.
"Chef Wukong is the Heavenly Court’s head chef! How could he not be extraordinary to have surpassed the God of Cookery and the Stove God and taken the position of head chef?"
Maitreya spoke with utter confidence; he had been to the Imperial Kitchen before the Flat Peach Banquet and seen the God of Cookery and Stove God relegated to mere assistants. How could Sun Wukong possibly be the head chef if his cooking weren’t excellent?
This series of lavish compliments somehow made Sun Wukong feel a bit embarrassed. What merits did he have to match the top tier? Far from it!
And as for surpassing the God of Cookery and the Kitchen God...
Wasn’t that just a casual accomplishment?
It wasn’t that he was boasting—if compared with the cooking skills taught by his master, these two were merely at a beginner’s level, far behind.
As Maitreya went on with his praises, he suddenly became aware of something and turned his head to look at Jin Chanzi, his plump face carrying a hint of hesitation, "You’re not going to..."
"You don’t want to eat too, do you?!"
"Hmm," Jin Chanzi replied with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"No way!" Maitreya exclaimed in disbelief. "You really want to eat it?"
"Of course." Jin Chanzi nodded his head affirmatively and laughed out loud.
"Hahaha, this monk doesn’t want anything else, but for the sake of Brother Wukong’s Buddhist Principle alone, I want to give it a try!"
He had always been a practitioner of the truth!
"Well, here are some chopsticks, try it yourself." Maitreya, with a hint of reluctance, handed over an extra pair of chopsticks that were on the table, emphasizing the word "try."
"Thank you, Uncle Master," Jin Chanzi took the chopsticks, his gaze fixed on the plate of red-braised spare ribs before him.
The ribs were cut evenly, arranged meticulously, and their reddish-brown exterior was incredibly inviting.
Jin Chanzi didn’t hesitate, picking up a piece straightaway.
As the rib entered his mouth, the taste instantly captivated him.
Such a flavor, he hadn’t even dared to dream of before, let alone taste; it was simply too delicious!
Jin Chanzi’s mind wandered with joy. After one piece was gobbled down, his chopsticks reached out for another, causing Maitreya to frown deeply.
This was made for him by Wukong—each piece eaten was one less remaining.
For someone else to eat these ribs was much like gnawing on his own flesh, equally agonizing.
Seeing Jin Chanzi finish his third piece and reach for a fourth, Maitreya couldn’t keep his composure any longer and quickly cradled the plate away.
Jin Chanzi grasped nothing but air and came back to his senses, a look of confusion in his eyes: "Uncle Master, why is that?"
"Why!" Maitreya glared, a spark of anger igniting in his heart, "Do you have to savor it like that? If I hadn’t done so, I’m afraid the entire plate would have fallen prey to your crafting!"
There weren’t many to begin with, and just like that, three pieces were gone, even he had only had one piece!
"There’s no other way." Jin Chanzi shook his head, assuming an air of righteous inevitability.
"The dishes that Wukong makes are indeed incomparably delicious, intoxicating even. It’s the first time this poor monk has come to know the splendid taste of meat. I got carried away and couldn’t help myself; it’s only natural."
Maitreya: "..."
He found himself unable to refute, as those words were an exact depiction of himself.
"The meat and wine pass through the gut, but the Buddha Ancestor’s heart retains it all." Jin Chanzi murmured in admiration, nodding in approval.
"I never imagined that this Buddhist principle not only sounds exquisite when spoken but even more so when put into practice."
No wonder his teacher’s uncle had become like this; if it were him, no, if it were anyone else from Spirit Mountain, it would be the same!
Although he considered himself not one to covet the pleasures of the palate, he had to admit that compared to this plate of braised ribs, everything he had eaten before was as tasteless as weeds.
"Teacher’s uncle, might I have another taste?" Jin Chanzi looked at Maitreya feasting and eventually couldn’t maintain his composure.
Or perhaps it was that very Buddhist principle that had freed him from such restraints.
Jin Chanzi could tell that this meat had no spiritual energy, likely from a creature that had not awakened its spiritual wisdom.
Buddhism has always preached compassion, and thus only vegetarian meals were consumed, not meat. He had never completely agreed with this doctrine.
After all, every being has a spirit. Even if one eats only vegetarian food, aren’t those plants also living beings?
Moreover, there are no small number of cultivators who transformed from plants. He hadn’t understood this before, but now he did.
He believed that there was no difference between meat and vegetables; what mattered was not to take the life of a being that had gained consciousness and the ability to embark on the path of cultivation.
With his exceptional talent and long residence in Buddhism, Jin Chanzi had already seen some clues.
Buddhas are not as perfect as they proclaim.
They speak of compassion, but when their own interests are violated, they forgo the dignity they usually uphold, let alone having compassion in their hearts!
Countless prayers for no Buddha to intervene, yet when the Golden Body is destroyed, all Buddhas appear.
How ironic is that?
Jin Chanzi felt profoundly disappointed, now seeing through more of what a Buddha truly is.
They are but ordinary people with a shiny exterior, spouting pretty words.
They have selfishness, ambition, and even disgust. If this is what a Buddha is, then anyone in the world could be a Buddha.
Jin Chanzi knew that such words were absolutely taboo.
If this is what a Buddha is, then he has no desire to become one. He remains here only in search of the truth.
"Don’t even think about it!" Maitreya’s massive head shook, his hands guarding the plate like a fierce dog protecting its food.
"You’ve already had three pieces and still want more? Don’t you know to leave some for your poor teacher’s uncle?"
This was made by Wukong for him!
Watching such a penny-pinching Maitreya, Sun Wukong’s eyelids twitched, "Is it just a dish? I, Old Sun, will make more for you. Eat up!"
He had plenty of ingredients left; making more was a mere trifle for him.
"Thank you, Wukong; then this poor monk shall graciously comply," Jin Chanzi said with a slight smile, nodding toward Sun Wukong.
With the head chef speaking up, Maitreya found it hard to object; after all, the cook is lord. If Wukong got upset and refused to cook, wouldn’t he die of sorrow?
Resigned to sharing the meal, Maitreya hesitantly pushed the plate back to the center, and a bit towards his position.
"Eat! I, your teacher’s uncle, am not a stingy person," Maitreya said, gripping his chopsticks, ready to pounce.
He was merely, guarding the treasures of excellence.
