Chapter 434: Your

Crimson-gold light seeped out from Shíhóu's chest.

It was not an explosion.

It was seeping.

Like deep-underground magma finding a fissure, it silently welled out.

Where the light spread, the darkness that had wrapped him for who knows how long began to retreat.

It retreated hastily.

It retreated in a sorry state.

Like winter ice hitting boiling water, it hissed white vapor and shrank back.

Shíhóu's body changed in the light.

The shed monkey hairs sprang up from beneath the skin, one by one, golden and brilliant, with a domineering vigor.

The grayish-white corpse skin peeled away, new flesh grew from underneath, covered with a fine layer of golden fur.

The spine curled into a ball began to move.

One cun.

Another cun.

Like a tree bent under heavy snow all winter, on the first day of spring it slowly straightened its trunk.

Shíhóu's eyes were still closed.

But the corner of his mouth was moving.

Not a painful spasm, but the subtle arc that appears when one dreams pleasantly.

He was dreaming.

A dream unlike any of his previous nightmares.

In the dream there was no slaughter, no chains, no abandoned Cànjiào.

There was only a crooked-necked big tree.

Under its shade it was cool, with a breeze.

Xiǎohóuzi crouched there, gripping a tree branch as a staff, waving it wildly at the air.

His posture was so ugly it was unbearable to look at.

Beside him a voice sounded, a bit impatient: "Awry. Again."

Xiǎohóuzi tried again.

Again awry.

"Stupid. Again."

Again.

One thousand times.

Ten thousand times.

Ten.

He waved until his arms ached and couldn't lift, waved until sweat blurred his eyes and he couldn't see the road.

No one praised him even a word.

That voice forever had only two words: "Again."

But Xiǎohóuzi wasn't annoyed.

He hehe-laughed, wiped a handful of sweat from his face, and hoisted the branch again.

Because although that voice was impatient, it was always there.

It never left.

It never thought him stupid.

It never drove him away.

That was enough.

Just that broken memory.

No enemies to fight, no world to save, no damn grand Dao to comprehend.

Just a stupid monkey and a stubborn old man.

The most ordinary.

The most boring.

And also the happiest days of his life.

Shíhóu opened his eyes.

The darkness was still there.

But it was no longer boundless.

Because he himself was glowing.

Crimson-gold light welled out from his chest, his fur, every pore, pushing back the darkness within three zhang around him.

He lowered his head to look at himself.

Still the same stone monkey appearance.

Small, furry, with no trace of supernatural power.

The kind that couldn't even beat a pheasant.

But his eyeballs had changed.

No longer the hollow, dead-fish-like eyeballs he once had.

A ball of fire burned inside.

It wasn't big.

It was so small that even holding it in the palm felt cramped.

But that ball of fire had a temper—stubborn to death, obstinate to death, couldn't be put out.

Stone Monkey slowly stood up.

His bones crackled a few times, like a rusty door hinge being forced open.

He shook his head, swung his arms, and moved his wrists a bit.

Then he opened his mouth.

He did not roar angrily at the sky.

He did not issue any lofty, impassioned declaration.

He just used an extremely ordinary tone, like chatting with a neighbor, and said to the surrounding darkness:

"Have you had enough fun?"

The darkness fell silent.

It really fell silent.

It wasn't that kind of deliberate cold shoulder; it just didn't know how to respond.

This tone was wrong.

It wasn't anger.

It wasn't tragic grandeur.

It wasn't a clenched-teeth vow of revenge.

It was a kind of… "I know you're messing with me, fine, after you're done messing around, go do what you need to do" sort of begging-for-a-beating vibe.

Stone Monkey didn't wait for an answer.

He scratched his butt, then sat cross-legged in the void, his monkey legs folded, hands resting on his knees.

Just like sitting on his own heated brick bed at home.

"You come reason with me."

Stone Monkey spoke, his voice not loud, but each word felt solid like a stone.

"I can't out-reason you."

"You talk to me about 'meaning,' about 'endpoint,' about 'existence being wrong'—"

"I don't understand."

He tilted his head, his face open and frank.

"I'm just a monkey. Born from a stone crack. Monkeys don't reason. Trying to reason with a monkey is just stupid."

After saying that, he patted his own chest.

The point of light inside jumped steady and bright, beat after beat, like a drum.

"But you've got one thing wrong."

Stone Monkey raised a finger.

"You think 'meaning' is something given by others—by the world, by results, by some damn cosmic truth."

He pulled that finger back and slapped it against his chest, making a sharp smack.

"No."

"Meaning is whatever I say it is."

Stone Monkey grinned, flashing a row of blindingly white monkey teeth, laughing wildly.

"I say being alive has meaning—then damn it, it does."

"You don't accept that?"

He stuck his head forward, chin up.

"Come hit me then."

The darkness exploded.

All the silence, all the 'gentleness,' all the 'benevolent guidance' were torn apart at this moment.

A vast grayish-white power surged from all directions, carrying an absolute will of 'negation' to grind this clueless monkey into powder from the roots up.

The power was so great that even the void itself wailed.

So great that even the concept of 'existence' was being squeezed and distorted.

Stone Monkey didn't move.

He just sat there.

Legs crossed.

Hands resting.

He watched the sky-covering grayish-white wave crash down on him, not even lifting an eyelid.

The grayish-white power drew near.

Ten zhang.

Five zhang.

One zhang.

At the instant it was about to touch his body——

The crimson-gold point of light on his chest jumped once.

Just that one.

But this beat was different from all the previous beats.

This one was real.

It was the throbbing of a real heart contracting, pumping blood, and sending scorching life into every inch of the body's vessels.

Boom—!

One sound.

Just one sound.

This heartbeat turned into visible, tangible crimson-gold sound waves that burst from the stone monkey's chest and spread in all directions.

The sound waves struck the gray-white power of Negation.

Head-on.

Straight clash.

No fancy techniques.

It was just a heartbeat pitted against a will that sought to negate all things.

Result—

The gray-white wave's crest was cut off at the waist.

The front half shattered, crumbling into invisible powder.

The rear half stood still, like cavalry charging at full speed slamming into an iron wall, the front horses' legs all broken,

while the rear kept pushing forward, the scene a miserable mess.

The void fell silent for a moment.

The stone monkey tilted his head within that crimson-gold light, his tone like someone asking for a fire:

Did you hear that?

He pointed to his own chest.

This is called—

Monkey Heart Undying.

The words fell.

Crimson-gold light slowly circulated around him, steady, warm, imbued with a certainty that no force could shake.

From the depths of the darkness came a low, hoarse sound, as if something were stuck in its throat.

Not anger.

It was an emotion the stone monkey had never felt from this existence before.

Apprehension.

The stone monkey's teeth gleamed in the darkness as he placed both hands behind his head, leaned back, and lay comfortably in the void.

Next—

He closed his eyes, his tone lazy.

Is it my turn now?

Before his words faded, the crimson-gold point of light inside him jumped a second time.

This jump was ten times stronger than the first.

The light burst through his skin, erupting simultaneously from his brow, eyes, and fingertips.

The stone monkey's form began to change in the light.

Bones rang.

Flesh grew.

A power he had forgotten for ages was now roaring awake from the depths of his heart.