Chapter 491: New Shoot on the Ruins

The vines went mad.

It wasn't just one or two vines growing; tens of thousands erupted at once.

Thick as a barrel, thin as spider silk, they all went mad, drilling into the giant axe.

The grayish-white axe shaft retreated under the green torrent.

Three breaths.

It took only three breaths.

That axe, capable of cleaving a star system, was wrapped by the vines into a huge green cocoon.

The cocoon was still expanding.

The vines' roots burst from the cocoon walls, stretching in all directions, each as thick as an ancient tree, continually sprouting new branches.

"No! No! No!"

The faceless giant face's howl split.

That vortex eye spun so fast it was about to fall apart; the gray-white beam it shot struck the green cocoon, leaving no mark.

It tried to sever its tail to survive.

The grayish-white face began to retreat, seeking to disconnect from the giant axe.

Too late.

The vines were faster.

Those tender green roots had already slipped along the axe's energy channels into the giant face's core.

From axe shaft to handle, from handle to the gray-white energy threads in the void, they climbed and took root all the way.

The first leaf sprouted on the giant face's grayish-white skin.

Green, tender, it trembled slightly in the void, like a yawn.

Then the second.

Then the third.

Then the hundredth.

The giant face stopped shouting.

It wasn't that it didn't want to.

It couldn't cry out.

Its mouth—if that spot counts as a mouth—was pried open by vines as thick as three fingers and plugged shut.

The green spread over it ever faster.

The whole face began to change color from the edges inward, the grayish-white fading as emerald green spread.

The vortex eye's spin slowed.

One turn.

Half a turn.

It stopped.

The last thing reflected in that eye was a monkey wielding an Iron Staff in the distance.

The monkey was laughing.

Then the eye shattered.

A crack burst open from the middle, and green light poured out.

The entire faceless giant face, like softened mud in water, peeled away in flakes.

The fallen fragments did not dissipate.

The vines caught them, dragging them into the green cocoon, where they became nourishment.

The cocoon grew.

It expanded, stretched, and deformed at a visible speed.

A straight trunk shot up from the top.

It was absurdly thick.

Its trunk's cross-section spanned a hundred li in every direction.

Branches exploded from the trunk, stretching in eight directions, each as long as an asteroid.

The roots plunged down, piercing the void's lower layer and delving into deeper dimensions.

The canopy unfurled.

It covered the entire sky overhead.

Leaves grew.

Each leaf was the size of a city, and instead of sap, starlight flowed through its veins.

Sun Wukong craned his neck to look.

He stared for a long time.

Because the tree was simply too huge; he couldn't find its top.

"This is too exaggerated."

He muttered.

The green patterns on the Iron Staff still faintly glowed, sharing some ineffable link with the distant towering tree.

Like father and son.

The tree bloomed.

No one knew when it had flowered.

It might have been just the time it took him to mutter that sentence.

The flower was not large, about the size of a fist; its golden petals bore specks of starlight.

One flower.

Ten flowers.

Ten thousand flowers.

The whole tree was covered with them.

The flowers bloomed and withered in just a moment.

As the petals fell, they turned into specks of light in the void and scattered, replaced by round fruits hanging on the branches.

The fruit wasn't large, about the size of a peach.

But the color was different.

It was completely transparent, with something turning inside.

It was starlight.

Miniaturized starlight.

It was as if each fruit contained a miniature star system, slowly rotating.

Sun Wukong landed on the ground.

He glanced down at his own feet.

Ground.

There was ground.

It was not the darkness of the void, not shards of a broken dimension, but solid ground.

It was brownish soil, soft, sinking a bit underfoot.

He wiggled his toes, and mud squeezed out from between them.

He looked back.

With the tree's roots as the center, vitality spread wildly outward.

The soil spread out.

Grass sprouted from the mud, lush green and still damp with dew.

Further out, stones protruded from the ground, covered in moss.

Farther off, light was gathering.

One by one, clusters of light condensed from the void into young stars, emitting a warm glow.

Planets began to orbit the stars.

Water gathered in low-lying areas.

A wind blew from somewhere unknown, carrying the scent of soil and grass.

A new star field sprang up right beneath the tree.

Sun Wukong exhaled a mouthful of turbid air.

That breath condensed into a white mist before him, drifting far away before dissipating.

Refreshing.

This feeling is damn refreshing.

Before, I only knew smashing things felt good; today I realized growing things is even more satisfying than smashing them.

My scalp was tingling.

It felt like ten thousand ants were running circles on my head.

"Wukong."

Yao's voice came from behind.

He turned around.

Yao stood a few steps away, holding in her hands a fruit just plucked from the branch.

Starlight turned in her palm.

She walked over and offered the fruit to him.

"Try it?"

Sun Wukong took it and rubbed it on his sleeve.

There was no special reason; it was just habit.

Back when he stole peaches to eat on Mount Huaguo, he'd also rub them on his belly first.

He took a bite.

Juice splashed out, a drop hanging at the corner of his mouth.

It was sweet.

It wasn't the cloying sweetness of flat peaches, but a refreshing sweetness like mountain spring water, crisp and clean from the tip of his tongue to his throat.

He chewed twice and swallowed.

"Pretty good."

He said it casually, like commenting on a street-side bun.

Yao smiled.

That smile, bathed in the light of the new star field, made Sun Wukong momentarily dazed.

He pretended not to care and took another bite.

In all directions, everywhere.

Fangcun Mountain.

Bodhi sat on the stone at the mountain peak, with half a cup of cold tea placed before him.

His eyes half-open, half-closed, he gazed at the distant newborn light.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

It twitched upward.

An extremely faint, extremely brief arc.

"Not bad."

He said two words, then lifted the tea cup and took a sip.

It was cold.

He didn't mind it either.

The big tree was still growing.

The New Star Domain was still expanding.

The miniature Star Systems inside those Starlight fruits were still slowly rotating.

Everything looked beautiful.

But Sun Wukong's smile faded after he swallowed the third mouthful of fruit.

He turned his head, looking toward the direction beyond the New Star Domain.

Far.

Very, very far in that direction.

The darkness remained.

The darkness that the big tree had dispersed merely retreated a bit.

It retreated to the edge of his vision, crouching there like a wounded beast licking its wound.

That old, gentle voice from just now still echoed in his ears.

"It's time to wrap up."

That voice said it.

The thing that spoke those words didn't show itself.

The faceless giant face died before it could emerge.

But Sun Wukong knew that thing hadn't left.

It was in the deepest part of the darkness, watching him.

Watching this tree, watching this newborn star domain.

Watching him gnaw at the fruit.

A chill shot up from his tailbone, crawling along his spine all the way to the Back of Head.

It wasn't the Fear Heart Demon.

It was the instinctive alertness of being stared at by something far greater than himself.

Like a tiger eyeing a rabbit.

Sun Wukong spat the fruit pit onto the ground.

The fruit pit took root upon hitting the ground, and in a few breaths a small sapling sprouted.

He shook the juice off his hands, then picked up the Iron Staff from the ground.

The green patterns on the staff had already darkened.

But they hadn't disappeared.

They settled within the staff, waiting to be awakened again.

"Let's go."

He hoisted the Iron Staff onto his shoulder and stepped into the depths of the darkness.

Yao followed at his side.

She didn't ask much.

No need to ask.

She knew what awaited them in that darkness.

Something older than the faceless giant face.

Something deeper than the Original Mistake.

The "Senior Brother" spoken of by his Master.

Sun Wukong stopped suddenly after three steps.

He turned his head and glanced toward Fangcun Mountain.

He couldn't see it.

It was too far away.

But he knew that old geezer was sitting on the mountain drinking cool tea.

"Old man."

He muttered softly.

"Watch the home for me."

As the words fell, he withdrew his gaze and strode forward.

The newborn earth beneath his feet stretched out behind him.

The darkness ahead was contracting, condensing.

It seems like something is being brewed.

That voice sounded again.

Not hurried, not impatient.

With the leisurely patience of watching juniors play.

"You've come? Good, then come."

In the deepest part of the darkness, the outline of a chair faintly appeared.

A person sat on the chair.

That person was brewing tea.