Chapter 127

He passed through that "back door".

Before Sun Wukong's eyes, the scene shifted with a dizzying spin of stars.

The void of chaos vanished in an instant.

In its place appeared a sky both familiar and utterly strange.

The sky remained the same sky.

The clouds remained the same clouds.

Yet he always felt something was missing.

Missing was the oppressive majesty of the Heavenly Dao that once weighed on him.

He lowered his head.

He found himself standing on a ruin of broken walls.

Beneath his feet lay shattered white jade slabs.

Not far off stood a broken half of a sky‑supporting jade pillar.

All around lay desolation.

No heavenly soldiers, no jeweled towers and jade halls.

Only a few mortals had built a humble Daoist temple from earth and straw.

A few mortals wore faded, washed‑out Daoist robes.

They knelt devoutly before a badly broken plaque, offering incense.

Their mouths murmured prayers.

"May the exalted immortal bless us!"

"Please, bless my wife's illness to heal quickly!"

"Please, bless this year with favorable winds and rains, a good harvest!"

Sun Wukong's gaze fell upon that plaque.

The gold lacquer on the plaque had long since peeled away completely.

Yet the three large, dragon‑like, phoenix‑dancing characters remained faintly visible.

Nan Tian Men!

Sun Wukong understood.

In this fragment of the Three Realms left behind by his Master,

time had flowed for who knows how many ages.

Once exalted gods and buddhas had lost most of their power.

Reduced to mere "legends" in mortal mouths.

Their former sacred sites had become tourist spots where mortals pray and wish.

How satirical.

He did not go to disturb those Mortals.

He took a step.

His figure had already crossed myriad rivers and mountains.

He directly appeared in the sky above Xiniu Hezhou.

He looked down.

He was searching for that Ling Shan holy realm, where Buddha's light shines over hundreds of millions of miles, as remembered.

However, all that met his eyes was merely an endless stretch of ordinary mountains.

He simply could not find that iconic Da Lei Yin Si.

Sun Wukong closed his eyes and carefully sensed.

Only then, among the mountains, did he find a trace, extremely faint, of the Fómén aura.

He opened his eyes, his gaze locked.

That was a mountain that looked ordinary and unremarkable.

Not high, nor perilous.

On the mountain, there were no rare birds or beasts, no miraculous herbs or spiritual roots.

Only common grasses and trees covered the hills.

If not for the ancient Da Lei Yin Si temple on the mountaintop, still retaining a trace of Buddha's light so weak it could almost be ignored.

Sun Wukong even thought he had come to the wrong place.

That thread of Buddha's light was like a candle remnant in the wind.

It seemed it could go out at any moment.

But this is exactly such a dilapidated Ling Shan.

At the mountain's base, however, there still was an endless stream of Mortal believers.

Their clothes were tattered, their faces haggard.

Yet, they kowtowed with each step.

With the most devout posture, they trudged up toward that mountaintop, long devoid of glory.

On their faces, there was no pain.

Only an infinite longing and hope for the afterlife, for the Pure Land.

Sun Wukong looked at these ignorant yet pitiful Mortals.

His gaze was somewhat complex.

They, the Buddha they devoutly kneel before.

But it is precisely that person, who single-handedly plotted the tragedy of his life, the greatest culprit.

But what could he say?

Go tell them, you have mistaken faith? You worship a hypocrite, a great swindler?

It's useless.

They will not believe.

Even if they believed, what then?

This is their Dao.

It is also their calamity.

In Sun Wukong's heart, there is no longer a ripple.

He merely finds it somewhat ridiculous.

He restrained all the aura on his body.

No heaven-shaking, earth-moving pressure.

No power to destroy heaven and earth.

He is just like an utterly ordinary sightseeing tourist.

He mingled among the devout believers.

One step, one step.

He followed that path, smoothed by countless believers' knees into an extremely smooth mountain road.

He headed toward that Da Lei Yin Si, which he once reduced to rubble with a single blow.

He walked over slowly.

Last time he came.

He came to wreak havoc in the Heavenly Palace.

No, he came to wreak havoc on Ling Shan.

It was for a single "Unyielding".

And this time he came.

On Sun Wukong's face appeared a trace of icy smile.

He is here to judge!