Ling Xuzi was highly skilled in his mystical arts, capable of riding clouds and mist. With a single sweep of his horsetail whisk, clouds gathered from the flat ground, buoying him and Sun Wukong aloft and soaring straight into the sky.
At first, they were in a panic, fearing they would fall, swaying unsteadily. It took a long time before no danger occurred, and they finally adjusted to it.
Then, looking down to see all mountains as small beneath them, observing the white mist winding through the forests, they felt an indescribable delight.
This experience filled Sun Wukong with a longing desire, and he couldn't help but ask, "Riding clouds makes traveling so convenient. I wonder if you could teach me?"
It was also a stroke of fortune that, for twenty years in the Flower Fruit Mountain, although he had been taught by the white ape by the sea, it was merely an introduction, and the rest he had to explore on his own without guidance, like groping for stones to cross a river.
