Chapter 485: Mysterious Call from the Far Side of the Star Sea

It was late at night.

In the courtyard of Fangcun Mountain, only insect chirps and wind remained.

Yao leaned against a peach tree, sleeping soundly with a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Bodhi's rocking chair was empty, and the old man had gone back inside at some unknown time.

Sun Wukong was not sleeping.

He stepped out of the courtyard and, after a few leaps, reached the highest cliff of Fangcun Mountain.

He sat cross‑legged, the Iron Staff lying across his knees.

The star‑filled river of the sky reflected in his crimson‑gold pupils, countless specks of light like a sprinkling of shattered gold.

Wind rushed up from the valley, blowing his monkey hair into a tangled flutter.

He did not move.

He just stared at the sky.

He couldn't put his feeling into words.

The Three Realms were at peace, Ling Shan was smashed, Heaven was kicked, and Hongjun that old bastard was also Fèi le.

The monkeys of Mount Huaguo ate peaches and fought each day, their lives more luxuriant than even the immortals'.

Yao was by his side, Master was by his side.

Everything was fine.

It couldn't have been better.

But the Monkey Heart in his chest beat oddly.

It wasn't pain, it wasn't panic.

It was itch.

It felt as if a feather was scratching inside, making his whole body uneasy.

"Damn."

Sun Wukong scratched the Back of Head, baring his teeth and muttering a curse.

Only a few days of peace?

He could no longer sit still.

This morning he chased away the bow‑worshipping gift‑bringers, spent the afternoon drinking and eating peaches with Master, and by night he began to act lowly.

He lowered his head to glance at the Chaos Dao iron lying across his knees.

The Iron Staff was entirely dark‑gold, its surface swirling with fine light patterns, lying quietly like a burning stick.

"You, settle down a bit, okay?"

Sun Wukong flicked the staff with his fingertip.

The Iron Staff ignored him.

He flicked it again.

Still no response.

"Tch, playing dead."

Sun Wukong tossed the Iron Staff aside, rested both hands behind his head, leaned back and sprawled out like a big cross.

Stars spun above his head.

Wind blew at his ears.

He closed his eyes.

His mind was filled with a jumble of chaos.

That star region that had been erased and then lit up again.

Those worlds once harvested by the Original Mistake.

The voice that called itself "Senior Brother".

And Master's right hand, bone‑like and withered.

He opened his eyes.

"Tch."

Couldn't fall asleep.

At that moment, his ear twitched.

It wasn't the wind.

It wasn't insect chirping.

It was the Iron Staff.

The Chaos Dao iron emitted an extremely faint hum.

It was as if someone far, far away struck a bell, the sound crossing countless worlds, arriving here as fine as a mosquito's buzz.

But he heard it.

Sun Wukong rolled over in a flash and sat up, his hand already gripping the Iron Staff.

The Iron Staff trembled lightly in his palm, at a very low frequency, like the heartbeat of a living thing.

No.

It wasn't a heartbeat.

It was resonance.

Something far away was emitting the same frequency, and his Iron Staff was responding.

Sun Wukong stood up.

His gaze passed beyond the summit of Fangcun Mountain.

It crossed the border of the Three Realms.

It passed the ruins of the Wanshen Fenchang where he once fought.

It crossed countless star sectors that lit up again.

He kept looking deeper.

Deeper still.

Into the deepest, deepest part of the Universe.

In his pupils, layers of crimson‑gold light ignited.

The perception of Chaos Dao, the resonance of Equal Heaven Path, and the analysis of the Primordial Source—three forces running together—pushed his perception to the extreme.

Then he saw.

In the deepest part of the Universe, at the end of all known dimensions, in a place where light has never reached.

Something was moving.

It was not darkness.

It was not void.

It was a form of existence he had never perceived.

Older than the Original Mistake.

More profound than Heavenly Dao Hongjun.

It did not seem to be awakening.

It seemed to have always been awake, only now opening its eyes for the first time.

And that "eye" was looking this way.

Sun Wukong's monkey hair sparked for an instant.

It was not fear.

It was excitement.

Pure, instinctive, unstoppable excitement.

The Iron Staff in his hand trembled even more fiercely, its light patterns shining like a flowing river of gold.

"Hey."

He grinned, showing a set of white teeth.

"Interesting."

"Monkey head, why are you standing here in the middle of the night without sleeping?"

The voice came from behind.

Sun Wukong turned his head.

Bodhi, at some unknown moment, was standing three steps behind him.

The old man still looked the same—old Dao robe, cloth shoes, white hair loose, hunched back.

But Sun Wukong noticed.

Master's right hand was tucked in his sleeve, not showing.

Moonlight fell on the old man's face; in his cloudy old eyes there was a faint, subtle gravity.

"Master, you felt it too?"

Bodhi did not answer directly.

He walked to the cliff edge, stood beside Sun Wukong, and looked up at the starry sky.

He was silent for a few breaths.

"Seems trouble never ends."

His tone was light.

As if saying the tea leaves were too many today.

But Sun Wukong heard the thing underlying that sentence.

Master was not complaining.

Master was reminding him.

"Is that thing stronger than the previous one?"

Sun Wukong asked.

Bodhi gave him a glance.

"What do you think?"

Sun Wukong thought for a moment, then slung the Iron Staff onto his shoulder.

"Never mind it."

He stood up and brushed the dust off his backside.

He turned to face Bodhi directly.

In the moonlight, the monkey's face bore a smile that instantly put others at ease.

"Master, just enjoy your retirement peacefully."

He patted his chest.

"Those short‑sighted ones, old Sun will take care of them."

Bodhi stared at him for two seconds.

"Can you beat them?"

If you can't beat them, then keep talking about not being able to beat them.

Sun Wukong chuckled, "Anyway, I've never been afraid of anyone."

Bodhi hummed and said nothing more.

But the slight curve at the corner of his mouth was clearly lit by the moonlight.

"Master?"

"Hmm."

"If you're bored, just wait at home. I'll come back with something fun for you."

"Go away."

Sun Wukong laughed heartily.

His laughter echoed through the valley for a while.

Then he heard light footsteps behind him.

It wasn't Bodhi's.

He turned his head and saw Yao walking up the mountain path.

Her hair was a bit messy, her eyes still hazy from just waking, but her steps were steady.

She reached Sun Wukong's side, extended her hand, and grasped his.

"I heard it,"

she said.

"You're leaving again, right?"

It's not a question.

Sun Wukong lowered his head, looking at her, his crimson‑gold eyes reflecting her face.

"Going together?"

Yao looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

"No nonsense. Last time I let you run out alone and you almost lost your life. This time you dare go without me?"

Sun Wukong grinned.

He laughed foolishly and joyfully.

He clenched Yao's hand, and with his other hand he tossed the Iron Staff toward the sky.

The Chaos Dao iron flipped in the night sky, turning into a crimson‑gold Rainbow Light that fell back into his palm, its whole body buzzing.

"Master!"

He shouted without turning his head.

"I'm leaving! I'll bring you peaches when I return!"

From behind came Bodhi's voice, tinged with drowsiness and disdain.

"Cut the chatter, go early and return early."

Sun Wukong let out a big laugh.

His laughter rose to the heavens.

He kicked his foot, and the whole Fangcun Mountain shivered.

A flash of golden light appeared.

A meteor streaked with a long crimson‑gold tail, carrying a monkey and a girl, tore through the Three Realms' sky and surged toward the deepest part of the Universe.

The light grew smaller and farther away.

Eventually it became an imperceptible speck of light in the galaxy.

Bodhi stood at the cliff edge, watching the light vanish at the limit of his sight.

The wind lifted his white hair and his old Dao robe.

He stood for a long time.

Then he drew his right hand from his sleeve.

Five bone‑like fingers slowly spread.

In his palm, a faint golden light flickered.

Like a seed.

Like a promise.

"Go."

The old man's voice was carried away by the wind into the night.

"Don't keep this old man waiting too long."

He turned and walked down the mountain.

After two steps, he stopped.

He tilted his head, looking toward the deep void where the approaching aura grew nearer.

In those cloudy old eyes, something flashed.

It wasn't Fear Heart Demon.

It wasn't dread.

It was something long separated.

Battle intent.

"Want to mess with this old man's monkey?"

A barely visible curve lifted at Bodhi's mouth corner.

First get past this old man's hurdle, then we'll talk.

The night wind sweeps over Fangcun Mountain.

On the summit, the branches and leaves of that old pagoda tree rustle.

As if clapping for a brand‑new story about to begin.

On the far side of the Star Sea, the monkey's laughter still echoes.

The new legend has only just begun.