Chapter 480: Ling Shan Collapse

The voice in the depths of the void gradually faded away.

Bodhi didn't respond, merely holding the empty teacup, his gaze indifferent as he glanced at that distorted space.

It was like looking at a dull invitation from an old friend.

Having read it, he casually set it down.

Sun Wukong noticed his master's expression, his mouth moved as if to ask, but Bodhi's glance stopped him.

"What's the rush?"

Bodhi shoved the empty cup into Sun Wukong's hand.

"Your master I've lived this long—what scene haven't I seen? Just an old thing."

Sun Wukong carefully tucked the cup away and grinned.

Master said it's fine, so it's fine.

This life of his was given by the master; trusting others is not as good as trusting the master.

After laughing, he lowered his head to look at his own hand.

His five fingers closed, clenching tight.

His knuckles cracked.

The power brought back from the depths of chaos surged through his meridians, fuller than ever.

He bent down to pick up the iron staff.

The staff felt much heavier, stained with black grime and shattered remnants of law.

Sun Wukong gave it a shake; all the filth fell off, and the staff gleamed once more with a dull red-gold sheen.

The moment he hoisted the staff, his gaze changed.

No longer the softness when he held Yao earlier, nor the sincerity when he kowtowed to his master.

That was the gaze of a hunter heading out.

Yao stood at the side, seeing this change.

She didn't stop him.

She merely brushed her wind-tousled hair and asked softly.

"Where to?"

"Ling Shan."

Two words, blunt and decisive.

Bodhi leaned against the stone pillar; his useless right arm finally felt a hint of sensation, his fingers twitching slightly.

He pointed with his left hand at the flower-covered ruins beneath his feet, then toward the distance.

"The old house collapsed; we need to build a new one."

"Hard labor."

"I leave it to you."

Sun Wukong bared his teeth in a grin, revealing two sharp fangs.

"Got it!"

He grabbed Yao's wrist, and golden light surged beneath his feet.

Those blue orbs sensed his will, flocking to him and forming a trailing stream of light that followed behind.

The children of the Blue Star Federation.

He'd fought so many battles, shed so much blood—wasn't it all so these little ones could live in peace?

"Leaving, Master! I'll bring you a gift when I return!"

His words hadn't faded when a vermilion-gold stream of light burst through the firmament of Wanshen Fenchang.

Bodhi watched the direction that light vanished, the corners of his mouth curving.

"A gift?"

"Just bring back a pot of good tea."

Ling Shan.

Da Lei Yin Si.

Ling Shan now is like another world compared to before.

Cracks covered the walls of the resplendent gold-and-blue treasure hall; glazed tiles slid off in sheets, shattering on the ground.

The golden Buddha statue that had stood for ten thousand years tilted, its right hand broken off, crashing onto the lotus pedestal.

Inside the temple, chaos reigned.

Without the Tathagata's suppression, the three thousand remnant Buddhas and myriad monks collided like headless flies.

Some knelt on the ground weeping, some grabbed scriptures and dharma treasures, some tried to flee.

More were busy blaming each other.

"It's all your fault! Back then you also followed Zhou to do evil!"

"You dare say that? On the day of the True and False Monkey King, you also kept silent, playing dumb!"

"What's the point of saying this now? The Tathagata's been beaten to that state—what are we to do?"

"What to do?"

No one knows what to do.

A golden-bodied arhat, half shattered by Bodhi's blow, stood on high ground, trying to keep order, shouting hoarsely all day.

No one listened to him.

Until a vermilion-gold light rose on the horizon.

That light came too fast.

From the horizon to the top of the head, there wasn't even time to blink.

Everyone's voice disappeared at the same instant.

Tens of thousands of eyes lifted up in unison.

Sun Wukong stood in the air above Ling Shan.

The iron staff lay across his shoulder; behind him, Yao and the Blue Star Federation had condensed into a blue river of stars.

He lowered his gaze, looking down upon this once-invincible holy land of the Buddhist sect.

There was no smile on his face.

"Qi…… Great Sage Equal to Heaven!"

No one knew who first shouted that name; immediately after came a chain-reaction-like collapse.

The monks nearby went weak in the knees and collapsed in a heap.

A few quick-reacting Golden-bodied Arhats turned and ran, not even bothering to take their magical implements.

The monk trying to maintain order had his lips trembling for a while before managing to choke out: "Great…… Great Sage, spare my life……"

Sun Wukong ignored him.

His gaze fell upon the plaque above the main hall of Da Lei Yin Si.

The four golden characters "Da Lei Yin Si" are said to have been personally written by the Tathagata, immortal for ten thousand years.

Sun Wukong raised the staff with one hand.

He brought the staff down.

The plaque exploded into powder, taking half of the hall's wall with it as it collapsed.

Shattered gold powder and debris rained down from the sky, covering the monks head to toe.

A deep, muffled echo rang out above Lei Yin Si, as if some creature's spine had been snapped.

The Buddhist sect's fortune.

At the instant that plaque shattered, the last lingering thread of the Buddhist sect's fortune also dissipated completely.

Up and down Ling Shan, no one remained with any cultivation.

They were all mortals.

Sun Wukong descended from the heavens, planting his iron staff into the ground as shattered stones sprayed outward.

He looked around at the bald heads kneeling on the ground.

"Raise your heads."

No one dared to move.

"I said, raise your heads!"

This voice carried the awe-inspiring power of the Chaos Dao's rhythm.

Everyone was forced to crane their necks, trembling as they beheld the monkey before them, its whole body radiating crimson-gold light.

Sun Wukong went over them one by one.

"Which of you collected protection money back then?"

Silence.

"Which of you allowed your mounts to descend and devour people?"

Still silence.

"Which of you knew the truth about the True and False Monkey King, yet kept silent and played dead?"

As soon as those words were spoken, at least thirty percent of the people changed expression.

Sun Wukong let out a cold laugh.

"Won't talk? Fine."

He raised his iron staff, aiming at a row of scripture storerooms on the right.

What was stored inside was not some scripture for saving all beings.

It was an account book.

It was the ironclad proof of Ling Shan's millennia-long collection of incense offerings, embezzlement of merit, and exploitation of believers.

One strike.

The scripture storeroom exploded, countless bamboo slips and gold pages flying amid the flames.

Sun Wukong provoked the Samadhi True Fire, and with a blaze he burned those shameful things to utter ashes.

"From today onward."

His voice spread throughout the entire Ling Shan.

"Ling Shan has no Buddha Patriarch, no Bodhisattva, no damnable exalted position."

"Anyone who still wants to ride on the heads of mortals and act as a lord had better measure whether their neck is tough enough."

The iron staff came down heavily on the ground.

The firelight illuminated his face, half-light, half-shadow.

The monks kneeling below dared not utter a sound.

But beyond Ling Shan, in the distant wild mountains and ridges, a commotion could be heard.

It was cheers.

At first just a few scattered voices, then more and more, growing louder.

The yokai.

Mortals.

Those lower‑level existences who have been oppressed by the Fómén for thousands of years have been watching all along.

The image in the water mirror hadn't faded yet; they saw the truth of the True and False Monkey King, and saw the faces of the Jade Emperor and the Tathagata dividing the spoils.

Now they also saw Sun Wukong smash Ling Shan with a single staff strike.

The cheering voices merged into a wave.

Sun Wukong listened to those sounds, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

It wasn't for his own pleasure.

He felt that this matter should have been done by someone long ago.

He turned his head and gave Yao a glance.

Yao nodded toward him.

No need to say much; a single look was enough.

Golden light rose again beneath Sun Wukong's feet, and his form shot upward from the ground.

This time the destination was the Heavenly Court.

From Ling Shan to Nan Tian Men, it's neither far nor near.

For him now, it's a single somersault.

When he landed, he stood directly in front of Nan Tian Men.

He was far too familiar with this gate.

Back when he rampaged through the Heavenly Palace, he had charged in from here.

Later, after being suppressed for five hundred years and led out with a root‑dog chain, he walked out from here with his head down.

Later, after returning from fetching the scriptures, he again entered here respectfully to receive his reward.

Each time he passed through this gate, his status was different.

Rebel.

Criminal.

Laborer.

Meritorious official.

What about this time?

He looked up at the golden plaque bearing the three characters "Nan Tian Men".

Behind the gate, he could sense a few faint auras trembling.

Four Great Heavenly Kings.

The four celestial beings he once fought with bitterly.

Now stripped of their celestial rank by Bodhi, their Xiūwéi is completely null.

Four ordinary old men guarded a door that even the wind could blow open.

Sun Wukong took a step forward.

From behind the gate came a clatter of sounds.

The clank of armor, the chaotic footfalls, and a low‑pitched shout.

"He's coming! Move aside! Move!"

The Nan Tian Men slowly opened before him.

It wasn't pushed open by him.

It was the Four Great Heavenly Kings pulling it from inside.

The four powerless elders rolled and crawled to the sides, thumping as they knelt.

Even the Growth Heavenly King's hat fell off, his forehead bare, his face a handful of snot and tears.

"Great Sage, spare me! I did nothing!"

Sun Wukong walked past them without even glancing.

The Iron Staff dragged on the ground, carving a deep groove into the golden brick pavement.

Sparks flew in all directions.

The Lingxiao Treasure Hall of the Heavenly Court lay ahead.

It remained towering as ever.

The golden and jade splendor remained unchanged.

But not a single Heavenly Soldier remained.

The ones who escaped escaped, the ones who hid…

The entire Heavenly Court resembled an abandoned empty city.

Sun Wukong walked step by step toward the Lingxiao Treasure Hall, his pace neither hurried nor slow.

But with each step, the ground of the Heavenly Court trembled.

It wasn't his casting.

It was the very realm trembling spontaneously before his power.

In the distant hall, a disheveled figure with a sallow face huddled behind the Dragon Throne, shaking like a sieve.

Jade Emperor.

The former ruler of the Three Realms.

At this moment he lacked the strength even to stand.

His lips moved, repeatedly muttering the same sentence.

"Don't come… don't come…"

Sun Wukong's footsteps grew closer and closer.

They grew louder and louder.

Before the gates of the Lingxiao Treasure Hall, he stopped.

He raised his Iron Staff, aiming it at the hall's gate.

"Old Jade Emperor."

His voice wasn't loud, but the entire Heavenly Court heard it crystal clear.

"Come out and die, or wait for me to go in and drag you out?"

"You choose."

Inside the hall was Deathly Silence.

Then came the sound of something shattering.

Immediately after, a sharp Cànjiào rang out from inside the hall.

It was not the Jade Emperor's voice.

It was a woman's.

Queen Mother.