Chapter 503: Hand in Hand, Return!

Target the old gods of the Three Realms!

Meteors strewn across the sky scattered, and the star field returned to its proper appearance.

The rifts in space torn apart by battle healed one by one, and the distorted spacetime smoothed out again.

The nine star systems that had almost collapsed hung steadily in their own orbits, turning with a steady clatter.

The universe's breathing calmed down.

Sun Wukong stood in the void, looked left and right, and his iron staff spun a circle on his shoulder.

"Done?"

Yao withdrew the last thread of rainbow light; the bright spot on her fingertip slowly faded.

She nodded, her face still carrying the pride from just turning the heavenly tribulation into fireworks.

"Done."

Sun Wukong gave a "hey", reaching out to grab her wrist.

He didn't catch it.

Yao stepped back a step, tilting her head to look at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Going home."

Sun Wukong reached out again, this time without courtesy, directly gripping her hand.

His five fingers tightened, palms pressed together.

The power of the two resonated at the moment of contact.

Red-gold and rainbow-colored light seeped out from between their fingers, like two rivers of different colors merging into one,

intertwining and spreading upward, all the way to their arms, shoulders, and entire bodies.

The two lights wrapped them in the middle, shining so brightly that the whole star field was tinted with color.

Yao lowered her head to look at their joined hands, then at the intertwined light.

"Quite a match."

"Nonsense."

Sun Wukong grinned.

He kicked off the void with his foot, pulling Yao's hand to change direction.

Fangcun Mountain lies that way.

"Come on, let's go back and report to Master."

"The old man must be waiting impatiently."

Two streams of light sliced through the Star Sea at extreme speed, trailing behind them a band of red-gold and seven-colored light intertwined,

like someone drawing a stroke on the black canvas of the universe with a paintbrush.

Wind howled past their ears.

Along the way, the newborn stars seemed to recognize them; each time they passed one, that star blinked once, as if greeting them.

Yao's hair was blown back by the wind; she turned her face to look at Sun Wukong.

"What then after we go back?"

"What then after we go back?"

Sun Wukong thought, "Eat peaches, drink wine, sleep. Then refill Master's tea——"

Before he could finish, an ancient voice suddenly sounded in his mind.

"Don't rush back."

Bodhi's mental transmission.

Carrying his usual impatience and disdain.

Sun Wukong's flight speed slowed half a beat: "Master?"

"There's something dirty over in the Three Realms."

Bodhi's voice was light, as if speaking of a trivial matter.

"Take care of it while it's hot, on the way."

"What dirty thing?"

Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow: "What dirty thing?"

"Old gods."

Bodhi spat out two words.

"A bunch of old things that hid in the cracks back then, not cleaned up, took advantage of your absence to run out and cause chaos."

The transmission ended.

The old man's usual style: he speaks and leaves, never explaining a word further.

Sun Wukong held Yao's hand; his foot speed didn't change, but his expression changed.

The corner of his mouth still held a smile, but his eyes gained something.

"Old gods?"

He gave a cold snort.

"The Three Realms have been overturned, yet there are still clueless things daring to come out and jump around?"

"Is it an itch?"

"Or do you hate having a long life?"

"Do you think you can overturn heaven just because I'm not here?"

The Iron Staff buzzed in his hand, as if sensing its master's emotions.

Yao looked at his expression, didn't speak, but the corner of her mouth curved slightly.

She recognized that expression.

This was Sun Wukong's expression before he was about to beat someone up.

"Old gods..." Yao recalled the preceding text, "Are they the ones who hid during the great calamity?"

"Yes."

Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes.

He remembered.

Those things, he remembered.

Back when the Original Mistake ran rampant across the Three Realms, there was a group of old fogeys who had lived for who knows how many eons,

Clearly they had the strength to come help, yet each one hid in their own lair, pretending to be dead.

Not just pretending to be dead.

Some of them were even stirring up trouble behind the scenes.

Back when Wukong was trapped in the Wanshen Fenchang, fighting for his life, and Yao burned herself to protect the Dream's pure land,

three old gods secretly guided the Original Mistake's disciples, leading them around the defenses to specifically attack Wukong's weak point.

Yao almost died in that incident.

That time Sun Wukong nearly had his Dao Heart shatter, and they had a hand in it as well.

"I remember."

His voice suddenly sank.

Not the kind of sinking that comes from violent rage.

It was a more terrifying kind of calm, one that only comes after enduring too much.

"Those bastards, I had them on my tab back then."

"But later there were too many things, and I never got around to it."

"Now they've jumped out on their own?"

He laughed.

He laughed so hard his teeth showed.

"All right."

"Saves me the trouble of having to go look for them."

Yao sensed killing intent from his tone.

Not just idle talk.

It's real, the kind that's already been sentenced to death.

"What are they doing?"

Yao asked.

"No need to guess, you know."

The hand Sun Wukong had freed clenched into a fist, its joints cracking.

"I smashed the Heavenly Court, flattened Ling Shan, Hongjun Fèi le, and now the Three Realms are leaderless."

"That bunch of old fogeys have been hiding this long—wasn't this the day they were waiting for?"

"They want to seize territory."

"They want to take advantage of my absence and grab control of the Three Realms."

"Then what? Wait for me to come back and wag their tails for a new master? Or do they think I wouldn't dare move against them?"

The more he spoke, the colder his voice became, and crimson-gold sparks sparked from his fist.

Those sparks shot out from between his fingers, popping and cracking in the void like tiny firecrackers unable to bear the pressure.

"Quite the scheme."

"I'm risking my life up front while they stab me in the back."

"I've been gone just a few days, and they've already come out to call themselves kings and hegemons."

"Fine."

"Really fine."

He took the Iron Staff off his shoulder, gripped the butt with one hand, and pointed the staff forward.

Ahead was the direction of Fangcun Mountain.

But he wasn't pointing at Fangcun Mountain.

It was the Three Realms.

"Let's go."

He turned his head and glanced at Yao.

"Let's not go home first."

"Go clean up that bunch of rats."

Yao had no objection and nodded.

Her hand hadn't been pulled out of Sun Wukong's palm.

She merely raised her other hand, fingers spread, and a band of iridescent light condensed in her palm into a thin circular mirror.

The mirror's surface displayed a panoramic view of the Three Realms.

At the border of the Three Realms, east of the East Sea, lies a expanse of ruined star field abandoned by the ancient gods.

At that place, flames shot up to heaven, the laws were in chaos, and at least seven or eight powerful auras raged wildly within.

"Suǒdìng."

Yao said, "Seven. No— nine. There are two more hidden deeper."

"Nine."

Sun Wukong licked his lips.

"Enough to fight."

He turned his hand over, and the Iron Staff lay horizontally across his body.

The crimson-gold patterns and green vines on the staff lit up together, and the humming grew louder.

He stepped hard on the void beneath his feet.

His speed surged.

His flight, already as fast as a shooting star, increased tenfold with that step, dragging its light tail into a straight line that stretched across the Star Sea.

Yao was pulled by his hand and accelerated, her light skirt bursting into countless shards of light behind her.

Their direction completely changed.

No longer flying toward Fangcun Mountain.

Turning ninety degrees, they headed straight for the eastern border of the Three Realms.

Killing intent surged.

In the Star Sea, the band of light woven from crimson-gold and seven colors carved a sharp arc, like a blade being drawn from its sheath.

In the direction the blade pointed, the nine ancient gods who had lived for unknown eons were still wreaking havoc on the borders of the Three Realms,

seizing territory, unaware that something was flying toward them.

What they didn't know was that the monkey they had schemed against, harmed, and nearly killed was now stronger than they remembered by more than a hundredfold.

Moreover, he had brought his wife along.

In the distance, Fangcun Mountain.

The Bodhi Patriarch placed the empty teacup back on the table, a faint smile appearing on his aged face.

"This monkey…"

He shook his head and leaned back into the rattan chair.

But his right hand, bony as a skeleton, remained clenched.

Golden light flickered in his palm.

The old gods in the east are trivial.

Letting the monkey get some practice is just right.

What truly concerned him was that aura, pressing up from the deepest void, as silent as Dead Water.

It no longer approached.

It stopped.

It stopped at a place he could not see through.

It was waiting.

Waiting for what?

Bodhi closed his eyes, with no answer.

But his right hand clenched even tighter.