Chapter 69

The marshal Tianpeng’s entourage was indeed impressive.

The eight divine steeds were spirited and majestic, and the treasure chariot shimmered with radiant light—clearly no ordinary artifact.

Even before the chariot arrived, a commanding aura had already swept toward them.

Sun Wukong saw it too; he nudged Su Chen and whispered, “Little brother, is that Marshal Tianpeng? Seems he’s got quite the airs.”

“Big brother, he’s one of the Four Northern Saints, commander of the Heavenly River’s hundred thousand troops—such a display is only natural.” Su Chen replied.

As they spoke, the treasure chariot halted before the Great Sage’s mansion.

Marshal Tianpeng stepped down, his frame robust, his stride powerful and regal, radiating an air of authority.

His gaze swept across and landed on Sun Wukong at the gate, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“You—are the Great Sage Equaling Heaven, Sun Wukong?”

His tone carried a condescending scrutiny.

Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow; he was never one to bow to arrogance, and Tianpeng’s attitude instantly irked him.

Seeing the tension, Su Chen stepped forward, blocking Sun Wukong, and bowed respectfully: “It is an honor to have Marshal Tianpeng grace us. I am the Daoist Su Chen, humbly greeting you. My brother Monkey and I have long heard of your renown—today, seeing you in person, your bearing truly lives up to legend. Your presence here makes this Great Sage Mansion shine with glory!”

His posture was humble.

Marshal Tianpeng listened, smiled, and nodded. “Too kind. Since we serve in the same court, and the Great Sage has hosted this feast, I naturally came to show my support.”

Though his words were polite, his arrogance remained untouched.

Su Chen watched closely, thinking inwardly: “This Tianpeng is indeed a man obsessed with face—he thrives on flattery, needs to be stroked.”

After speaking, Tianpeng strode straight into the mansion.

Sun Wukong watched his back, sneered, and telepathically told Su Chen: “Little brother, look at that pompous fool. If you hadn’t held me back, Old Monkey would’ve tested his mettle.”

“Big brother, calm down,” Su Chen replied telepathically. “You drink with the Third Prince and the others—I’ll handle these ones.”

When the appointed time arrived, the banquet officially began; any immortals or gods who hadn’t come by then wouldn’t come at all.

In the main hall of the Great Sage Mansion, celestial music played, and celestial attendants moved between the tables.

The tables were laden with rare delicacies, celestial fruits, and divine nectar.

As host, Sun Wukong sat at the head table.

Beside him sat Nezha, the Third Prince, and his other favored immortals and gods.

The rest of the immortals and gods took their seats according to rank and closeness.

Sun Wukong rose, raised his cup, and shouted loudly: “All of you, Old Monkey has only just ascended to Heaven, blessed by the Jade Emperor—er, by Your Majesty—with the title Great Sage Equaling Heaven.”

“From now on, we all serve in Heaven—we’re friends. If any of you need help, just say the word to Old Monkey, and I’ll lend a hand!”

His words were crude and blunt, yet brimmed with the boldness of a demon king.

Nezha was the first to stand and cheer: “Well said, Monkey Brother! Let’s drink!”

The other immortals and gods raised their cups in unison—the scene grew lively and boisterous.

Marshal Tianpeng sat quietly, drinking and eating alone, his expression unreadable.

In his eyes, Sun Wukong was merely a wild demon king—unworthy of true respect.

Su Chen, cup in hand, approached Marshal Tianpeng’s table.

With a humble smile, he bowed deeply: “Marshal, I am the Daoist Su Chen, honoring you with this cup.”

Tianpeng lifted his eyelids, glanced at him, murmured a faint “Mm,” raised his cup, tapped it lightly against Su Chen’s, and drained it in one gulp.

Su Chen also emptied his cup but did not leave.

He smiled and said: “Marshal, you command the Heavenly River and lead a hundred thousand troops—truly majestic, deeply admirable. When I was still below, I often heard tales of the Heavenly River’s peril, how even immortals avoided it, yet only you could guard it. Today, seeing you, I know those tales were no exaggeration. With a hero like you guarding it, Heaven can rest easy.”

The flattery struck perfectly.

Tianpeng’s greatest pride was his command of the Heavenly River.

Hearing Su Chen’s praise, a faint smile touched his face.

“You’re a clever little Daoist,” he said, setting down his cup, his interest piqued. “The Heavenly River troops were built by the Emperor himself—I merely guard the gate on his behalf.”

“Marshal, you’re too modest,” Su Chen continued. “I believe, whether commanding armies or cultivating the Dao, the principles are the same: courage, strategy, and above all, knowing when to act.”

“Oh?” Tianpeng’s interest deepened. “Explain how they’re the same.”

Drunk on wine, the two gradually opened up.

When the third round was finished, Su Chen, sensing Tianpeng was slightly intoxicated, lowered his voice as if by chance: “Marshal, I’ve heard that in the Moon Palace above, among the Moon Star Lord’s attendants, there are celestial maidens whose dancing is peerless. But I’ve only just arrived in Heaven—I’ve never seen them. Has Marshal ever seen them?”

As he spoke, he watched Tianpeng’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

The moment “Moon Palace” was uttered, Tianpeng’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Oh? You’re interested in the Moon Palace’s celestial maidens?” he murmured.

“Marshal, you jest,” Su Chen feigned alarm. “The Moon Palace is the Moon Star Lord’s sacred retreat—this humble mortal immortal would never dare entertain impure thoughts. Yet, who doesn’t admire beauty? I’ve heard the maidens there are all graceful, especially the Lady Chang’e—her beauty surpasses the Three Realms. Naturally, I long to see her.”

His words were open and honest, without pretense.

Tianpeng was overjoyed.

He felt, at last, he had found a kindred spirit in Heaven.

He seized Su Chen’s arm, his demeanor instantly warm.

“Brother, you’ve spoken straight to my heart!” Tianpeng said. “Come, come—let’s talk properly. All those other immortals are hypocrites. You, brother, are a true man!”

Su Chen smiled inwardly: “The fish has taken the bait.”

His face, however, showed stunned delight.

“Marshal, I’m but a lowly newcomer to Heaven—how could I dare call you brother?”

Tianpeng waved his hand dismissively: “Enough with ‘lowly’ and ‘great’—here, you and I are brothers. Come, drink! Let this elder tell you about the Moon Palace’s maidens…”