Chapter 29: Tianpeng's Grim News

The seven fairy maidens were still standing at the edge of the pit, like seven freshly planted streamers; when the wind blew, their skirts fluttered wildly.

They hadn't yet recovered from the shock of their home being robbed.

Then a red beam shot toward them from afar.

It moved at an absurd speed, the wind pressure it generated made the purple‑clad fairy at the far edge stagger, nearly falling into the bottomless earth pit.

"Brother Monkey! It's here, it's here!"

Nezha rode his wind‑fire wheels, cradling a huge golden cauldron, and had two burlap sacks on his back taller than himself.

The sacks were bulging and still dripped oil.

It was the Ten‑thousand‑year Dragon Liver just stewed in the royal kitchen.

"That stove‑god old man refused to give it, so I pulled half his beard off,"

Nezha tossed the golden cauldron onto the ground.

Thud.

The ground trembled three times.

The golden cauldron was brimming with Phoenix Bone Soup; the milky broth steamed, and its aroma instantly overwhelmed the earthy smell of the Peach Garden.

"Well done."

Sun Wukong gave a thumbs‑up.

He casually picked up two dead sticks from the cuff of the Bodhi Patriarch—where a few broken peach‑tree branches had just slipped out.

Snap.

He snapped a thick ten‑thousand‑year spirit wood with his wrist.

This spirit material, prized as a refining treasure in the outside world, was now piled together haphazardly as firewood.

"Lend me some fire."

Sun Wukong kicked Nezha's wind‑fire wheel.

Nezha understood instantly, tapped his toe, and true Samadhi fire surged out.

Whoosh—

The flames licked the peach wood, crackling with a pop‑pop sound.

A unique Yi‑wood fragrance mixed with a charred smell spread out.

This luxurious fuel made the roasted meat taste faintly celestial.

The seven fairy maidens stared dumbfounded.

That's a peach tree!

That's the innate spiritual root that Queen Mother has people meticulously wipe the leaves of every day, not even letting a single insect crawl on it!

And now it's being burned right here?

To roast meat?

"This... this is a great disrespect..." the red‑clad fairy whispered, her voice so soft even she could barely hear it.

"What did you say?"

Sun Wukong was skewering a massive dragon liver onto the Golden Cudgel when he glanced at her.

The Golden Cudgel had thinned considerably, perfect as a skewer.

What stained it—whether the blood from his recent clash with the Jade Emperor or the fresh dragon‑liver blood—was unclear.

The red‑clad fairy shook her head like a tambourine in fright, stepped back two paces, and stepped on the orange‑clad fairy's foot.

"Squeak—!"

Kong Xuan, who had been held in Sun Wukong's hand, suddenly fluffed up.

The palm‑sized bird stared intently at the pot of Phoenix Bone Soup.

It was its own kind.

Although its bloodline was abnormally thin, the scent made it feel extreme nausea and anger.

It fluttered its wings, trying to peck the cauldron over.

Clap.

Sun Wukong smacked it into the earth with a palm.

Only its bird head remained exposed.

"What are you shouting?"

Sun Wukong flipped the roasted meat in his hand, sizzling with oil.

"Is that your relative?"

"Just right, the whole family should be all together neatly."

He tore off a golden, oily piece of roasted dragon liver and shoved it into Kong Xuan's mouth.

"Taste it, this skill is far better than your Ling Shan cafeteria."

Kong Xuan was forced to swallow the meat.

Humiliating tears streamed from its pea‑sized eyes.

It is the Peacock Great Bright King!

It is the foremost being beneath the Saint!

Now it is actually eating...

"That's right."

Sun Wukong satisfiedly patted the oil on his hand.

He handed the biggest piece of meat to the Bodhi Patriarch, who had been sitting beside him with eyes closed, meditating.

Master, please go first.

Bodhi Patriarch opened his eyes.

Didn't take the meat.

Instead, he glanced disdainfully at the crude fire.

The heat is too high.

The wood is too wet, the smoke is heavy, affecting the taste.

Although he said that, he still extended two fingers, picked up a piece of phoenix marrow, and slowly put it into his mouth.

He chewed twice.

From now on, let Nezha do this rough work.

Nezha was gnawing on dragon liver beside him, his mouth full of oil; hearing this, he hehehed a smile and didn't refute.

This is a big shot who poked a hole in Heaven.

Don't even mention letting him grill meat; even if you told him to roast himself, he'd hesitate whether to add some cumin.

Eh, boring.

Sun Wukong ate a few bites, then threw the remaining half piece of dragon liver to the Heavenly Howling Dog— that dog had somehow come over, wagging its tail waiting for food.

He leaned against a large rock, crossing his legs.

He held a peach-wood twig in his mouth to pick his teeth.

There's wine and meat, but no fun.

His gaze fell again on those seven 'colorful banners'.

The seven fairies instantly felt a chill all over, as if some primordial ferocious beast had locked onto them.

That... who.

Sun Wukong pointed at the red-clothed fairy.

You're the boss, right?

Bring your sisters and dance for Old Sun.

The red-clothed fairy widened her eyes in terror.

Dance?

Here?

On this mess-filled, just-looted Peach Orchard ruins?

Dance in front of two bandits, an old Daoist, a bird, and a dog?

This is the greatest humiliation to the Heavenly Court princess!

We… we only know how to dance the Heavenly Sacrifice Dance…" the red-clothed fairy tried to resist, her voice trembling, "That dance is only performed at the Peach Banquet…

Then dance that.

Sun Wukong interrupted her.

He pulled out two rotten peaches he had just taken from the purple-clothed fairy's basket.

He tossed them casually.

Gurgle.

The peaches rolled to the feet of the seven fairies.

This is your reward.

If you dance well, there will be more rewards.

If you dance poorly…

Sun Wukong grinned, revealing two sharp canine teeth.

Then I'll throw you into that pit to serve as fertilizer for the Peach Tree.

A deathly silence.

Only the sound of firewood cracking in the fire.

The purple-clothed fairy, the youngest, had already been scared to tears, big drops falling down.

The red-clothed fairy bit her lip until bloodshot lines appeared.

She glanced at the deep pit.

She glanced again at the Golden Cudgel still dripping blood.

There was no choice.

Start… start dancing.

She struggled to raise her hand, forming the opening pose.

There was no music.

Only the wind's sound.

Seven figures began to twist on this ruin.

The dance posture was indeed graceful.

That was the utmost elegance honed over tens of thousands of years by the Heavenly Court.

Cloud sleeves fluttered, waist supple.

But in this setting, it exuded a strange absurdity.

Sun Wukong, while gnawing on a peach, slapped his thigh to keep the beat.

The rhythm was completely off.

It threw the seven fairies' steps into utter chaos.

Nezha is even more excessive.

He eats while tossing dragon bones into the dance floor.

"Spin! The one in the green clothes, spin faster!"

"Haven't eaten? Twist your waist!"

"Ah, right, right, right, that expression—make it even more aggrieved, I love watching!"

This is not appreciating dance.

It's basically strolling through a mortal tavern, and then, after freeloading, acting like a bully who wrecks the place.

Thirty-three heavens away.

Doushuai Palace.

Grand Supreme Elder Lord stands at the doorway, holding a palm fan, fanning twice.

The fire in the furnace is a bit strong.

But he has no mind to tend the furnace now.

His eyes, which see through worldly affairs, pierce the layers of mist and see that scene in the Peach Garden.

He sees the monkey who tramples the Heavenly Court's face under his foot.

He also sees the old Taoist sitting on a stone, with a calm expression.

"Alas."

The Elder Lord sighs.

His voice is hoarse, exuding a deep helplessness.

"The heavens have changed."

He turns around.

"Jin Jiao, Yin Jiao."

"Close the doors."

"Hang a sign: Closed for alchemy, no visitors allowed."

"Whether the Jade Emperor comes to weep or anyone else breaks in, do not open the doors."

Clang.

The great gate of Doushuai Palace, which hasn't been closed for tens of thousands of years, shuts heavily.

In the Peach Garden.

After a dance ends.

The Seven Fairy Maidens slump on the ground, drenched in fragrant sweat, their hair buns in disarray.

Their dignity, in the half‑incense‑burned span just now, shattered to nothing.

"Fine, get out."

Sun Wukong waves his hand, as if shooing flies.

"Your dancing is still not as good as the monkey from Mount Huaguo."

The Seven Fairy Maidens, as if granted a great pardon, support each other, rolling and crawling away from this hell.

Sun Wukong stands up.

He stretches lazily.

His joints crack all over.

He glances at the dragon bones and phoenix feathers scattered on the ground, then glances at the belly that has already been filled quite a bit.

"I'm full."

"I've had enough to drink."

"I've watched the dance as well."

He slings the Golden Cudgel over his shoulder and turns his head toward the direction of the Heavenly River.

In that direction, mist swirls.

The Heavenly Court's 80,000 water troops are stationed there.

"Nezha."

"Hey!" Nezha is drinking the last sip of soup cleanly, wiping his mouth.

"I remember there's a water‑official up in the sky."

"He used to call me brother."

"What was his name again?"

Nezha pauses.

Then he recovers, his face showing a gleeful expression.

"You mean Marshal Tianpeng?"

"That pig‑head?"

"Right."

Sun Wukong squints.

A dangerous glint flashes in his golden pupils.

Back then he caused a great ruckus in the Heavenly Palace.

Marshal Tianpeng certainly lent a hand.

That rake lodged on his back still aches faintly when he recalls it.

"I heard his days have been going well lately?"

All day you tease Chang'e, and you still want to seize that Cui Lan from Gao Lao Zhuang?

Sun Wukong thumped the Golden Cudgel onto the ground.

A circle of dust rose.

Go.

Go catch up.

Ask him while you're at it.

These pig ears—are they better cold as a salad, or better braised?