Chapter 44: Saving Face for Empress Pingxin

The scent of blood hadn't dissipated yet.

But that suffocating pressure had already vanished.

Sun Wukong landed on a massive rock jutting out of the sea, looking down from his height at the Asura tribe kneeling on the ground.

"Those few."

He pointed his hand at the group of surviving witches who had been dancing earlier.

These few were lucky, standing far away, not killed by Kong Xuan's divine light, nor turned to ash by the true solar fire.

"Huh?"

The witches trembled all over, fearing the murderous star would settle scores after autumn.

"Stop shaking, or you'll lose your flesh."

Sun Wukong waved his hand dismissively.

"My Mount Huaguo is short of a few tea‑servants, and that whatever‑dance, though a bit ugly, can at least entertain the little monkeys."

"You lot, tidy up and go report to Mount Huaguo."

"If you dare siphon people's yang on the road..."

Sun Wukong pulled a spark from his ear and flicked it into the air.

"Boom!"

A distant black mountain vaporized in an instant.

"This is the fate."

The witches, as if granted a great pardon, kowtowed like they were pounding garlic.

As long as they aren't killed, they can even go pick up big dung instead of dancing at Mount Huaguo.

Kong Xuan snorted coldly beside them.

"Harboring filth and grime."

"You know nothing about it."

Sun Wukong rolled his eyes.

"My Mount Huaguo is full of male monkeys, yin‑yang out of balance, prone to irritability. Bringing a few female sprites back to neutralize it—that's called ecological Balance."

Having dealt with the prisoners of war.

A golden light came from the direction of Fengdu City.

Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva rode on Ditìng, landing before Sun Wukong with a complicated expression.

"Amitabha."

Kṣitigarbha clasped his hands together and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Great Sage, for your aid, relieving the underworld of a calamity spanning billions of years."

He was sincere.

The Nether River, a malignant tumor, lodged in the underworld's throat across countless Yuan Assemblies, devouring living souls and hindering reincarnation.

Fómén tried every method but could not eradicate it.

Yet this monkey uprooted it in the time it takes to finish a meal.

"Alright, stop dealing with the empty ones."

Sun Wukong waved his hand, cutting off Kṣitigarbha's salute.

"I ask you, do you still chant that slogan, 'Hell not empty, oath not to become a Buddha'?"

Kṣitigarbha was taken aback.

Then he forced a bitter smile.

"My humble monk's great vow remains unfulfilled, naturally..."

"Stupid."

Sun Wukong's two words choked the monk's sentence back.

"Every human heart harbors evil thoughts; where there are people, there is evil; where there is evil, there is hell."

"You want to empty hell?"

"Unless you slaughter all Living Beings of the Three Realms so that none live, then hell would naturally be empty."

Kṣitigarbha seemed struck by lightning.

Having practiced Buddhism for so many years, no one had ever refuted his grand vow from this angle.

Yet this blunt reasoning was not crude, directly hitting the core.

"You're just at odds with yourself."

Sun Wukong crouched on the stone, pointing at the endless Nether Land.

"Just as my master said, when a sewer is clogged you clear it; if you tear the sewer down, where will the dirty water flow?"

"Be more pragmatic."

"Since this Nether River is dead, stop pretending to be a Bodhisattva."

"Rename it 'General Manager of the Nether Realm' or 'Underworld CEO'; then the underworld would be under your charge, profit‑sharing by labor—wouldn't that be delightful?"

Kṣitigarbha listened, stunned.

Although he didn't grasp what rank a CEO was, the logic loosened a thread in his once‑firm Buddha's Heart.

Could it be…

That the Dao he had clung to for countless years was truly a twisted obsession?

"Well said!"

A soft yet authoritative female voice suddenly rang out in the void.

The sound was not loud, yet it made the entire Netherworld tremble.

From the bottom of the once‑dried Blood Sea, countless soil‑colored lotus blossoms surged forth.

A heavy, compassionate aura that bears all things instantly overwhelmed the golden light surrounding Sun Wukong.

Dizang Wang's complexion changed drastically, and he hurriedly knelt to listen and pay homage.

"Salutations, Pingxin Niangniang!"

Kong Xuan also wore a stern expression and bowed slightly.

She is the Hou Tu Ancestor Witch who incarnates the Six Paths of Reincarnation, and on this modest stretch of the Netherworld, her authority surpasses that of a Saint.

The void cracked open.

A woman dressed in goose‑yellow palace attire slowly stepped forward.

She lacked a world‑shaking presence, resembling a big sister from the neighborhood, yet with each step the Reincarnation Laws beneath her feet cheered.

Hou Tu looked at Sun Wukong, her eyes full of admiration.

"Great Sage, insightful."

"This hell is inherently part of Reincarnation; if it were empty, the Heavenly Dao's cycle would be thrown into chaos."

She turned her head toward the Purple‑Gold Gourd.

"For years the Nether River has stolen Reincarnation's qi; my palace, bound by embodied Reincarnation, cannot intervene."

"Today, Great Sage, by eliminating this great scourge, you have done a favor to my undying witch clan."

Sun Wukong straightened his posture.

He neither knelt to Heaven nor to Earth, yet he maintained basic respect for someone truly of great merit.

"Your Grace, no need for courtesy."

"I just found that old thing unsightly, so it was a convenient matter."

Hou Tu gave a faint smile.

She raised her hand, and a strand of violet‑glimmering qi coalesced at her fingertips.

As the qi emerged, even the Book of Life and Death flipped wildly.

That was the Reincarnation Primordial Source.

It is one of the most primal forces in this world.

"Great Sage, you have just verified the Mixed Origin; though your magical power reaches the heavens, your foundation is still a forced breakthrough."

"This strand of 'Reincarnation Purple Qi' can help Great Sage solidify his realm and refine the killing aura."

Having spoken.

That strand of purple qi drifted toward Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong did not act pretentiously.

He opened his mouth, inhaled, and swallowed it directly into his belly.

In an instant.

The Chaotic Demon God power within his body, which had become somewhat violent from devouring the calamity thunder, instantly became docile.

A subtle sense of mastering life and death, perceiving Reincarnation, arose spontaneously.

"Fine stuff!"

Sun Wukong's eyes lit up.

This thing is countless times stronger than the Golden Core of the Supreme Patriarch Laozi.

"Since Great Sage is satisfied, I shall return now."

Hou Tu gave Dizang Wang a deep glance.

"Dizang, consider Great Sage's words carefully."

Having spoken, her figure gradually faded, merging into the Yellow Spring Soil beneath her feet.

Dizang Wang knelt on the ground, remaining there for a long time without rising.

"Let's go."

Sun Wukong patted the bewildered Kong Xuan.

"The Yin energy here is too heavy; staying long will easily cause rheumatism."

Kong Xuan came to his senses, his face complex as he looked at the monkey.

How long has it been?

Not only did he slay the Nether River and subdue the Asura Clan, but also gained Recognition from Pingxin Niangniang.

The heavens of the Three Realms truly let this monkey break through.

The two rode the clouds upward, bursting through the Netherworld's gray mist.

Just upon returning to the world of the living.

The long‑missed sunlight fell upon them.

Sun Wukong stretched lazily, preparing to return to Mount Huaguo to see how the youngsters had practiced their dance.

Suddenly.

His brows furrowed.

He sniffed the air with his nose.

"Something's off."

Kong Xuan halted his cloud, "What?"

"The monkey hair I left on that White Dragon Horse and Shashi Disciple has reacted."

Sun Wukong looked toward the western direction, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

The pilgrimage team had scattered.

Bajie Fèi le, and Tang Seng's mortal fleshly body had likely already reincarnated.

But those two honest people, after all, had once called him Senior Brother.

"What's this... birdy smell?"

Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes.

That smell, like the one he had smelled back at Lion Camel Ridge, was somewhat similar, but more mixed, more chaotic.

"Let's go take a look."

"I want to see— at this point, who dares to mess with my people?"

He flipped out with a single somersault.

108,000 li.

The direction was exactly the Silken Web Cave on the original pilgrimage route.