Chapter 520: A Future Without Hidden Dangers!

Night fell.

A fire had appeared in the courtyard of Fangcun Mountain.

It wasn't a magically conjured immortal flame, just the most ordinary fire from dry kindling, crackling loudly and heartily.

Around the fire lay a ring of fist-sized sweet potatoes, their skins charred black, split open to reveal golden flesh inside.

The aroma drifted on the night wind in all directions.

Sun Wukong sat cross-legged beside the fire, gripping a branch as a makeshift fire poker, occasionally stirring the coals.

Yao sat beside him, draped with an old robe Sun Wukong had tossed over to block the wind.

Bodhi sat opposite, a broken palm-leaf fan shielding half his face, his other hand holding a thin stick, turning the sweet potatoes in the fire.

His movements were slow.

As if he were doing something momentous.

He flipped the blackest-roasted sweet potato; sparks flew up and landed on his cuff.

He brushed them off without lifting his head.

"If there's nothing important, don't come bother me."

Sun Wukong clicked his tongue: "What do you mean by bothering you?"

"I just stay here every day, am I in your way?"

Bodhi ignored him and kept turning the sweet potatoes.

Sun Wukong gave a heh-heh laugh, poked the branch into the fire, and pulled out a piece of glowing charcoal.

"Let me tell you, Master."

He pointed the branch at his own nose.

"I'm not going anywhere for the rest of my life."

"I'll just stay right here."

"I'll eat your food, drink your drink, and never run off."

Bodhi's hand paused for a moment.

He slowly lifted his head; the old face beneath the fan was written all over with disdain.

"A freeloader."

"When did my Fangcun Mountain become a shelter?"

"Keeping one monkey isn't enough; you've added another—"

He jerked his chin toward Yao.

Yao quickly waved her hands: "Master, I do work! I help you water the flowers, sweep the floor, and brew tea every day—"

"That's you."

Bodhi pointed the fan at Sun Wukong.

"What about that monkey? All he does is eat and sleep—what's the difference from keeping a worm?"

Sun Wukong wasn't the least bit angry.

He tossed the branch to the ground, threw his arms around his belly, leaned back, and burst into loud laughter.

His laughter echoed through the night in Fangcun Mountain, startling several night birds from the pine forest into flight.

He laughed until his stomach hurt, until the corners of his eyes were wet.

Yao watched him from the side, feeling a bit puzzled.

Bodhi also glanced at him, frowning: "Have you gone stupid?"

Sun Wukong waved his hand, taking a good while to recover.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his chest still trembling.

"It's fine."

"I just feel—getting scolded every day is actually pretty good."

He said this in a light tone, yet the corners of his mouth were split wide open.

Like a laugh welling up from the bottom of his heart.

Bodhi turned his head away, shaking the fan twice faster.

He didn't respond.

A piece of burning wood in the fire snapped with a crack, a broken branch fell and landed on the sweet potatoes.

Sun Wukong tilted his head and glanced up at the sky.

The stars were bright.

They weren't artificial stars conjured by some law, but the genuine light of naturally grown stars.

They hung there, peaceful and still.

No star concealed a watching gaze behind it.

There was no Original Mistake.

There was no Hongjun.

There were no gazes from the depths of the void, filled with ancient malice.

They were all gone.

Clean and pure.

The depths of the universe were silent as a pool of dead water, but that was true tranquility, not the lull before a storm.

All who deserved to be beaten have been beaten.

All who deserved to die have died.

Sun Wukong withdrew his gaze, reached out, and pulled a roasted sweet potato split at the edge from beside the fire.

Hot.

He flipped it back and forth with both hands twice, sucking on his lips as he split the sweet potato into two halves.

The golden flesh steamed, its aroma shooting straight up his nose.

He handed the larger half to Yao.

Yao took it, blew on it, and nibbled in small bites.

Sun Wukong took a big bite himself.

"Hiss—!"

He winced from the heat, mouth open to cool, tongue flipping back and forth inside.

Yao laughed beside him: "Can't you wait for it to cool a bit before eating?"

"It won't taste good if it cools!"

Sun Wukong mumbled, his tongue almost numb from the heat.

Bodhi snorted coldly from across: "Serves you right."

Sun Wukong glared defiantly at his Master, but didn't stop eating, taking another bite.

This time he'd learned, taking only a small piece.

The sweet potato's sweetness was the plainest kind.

Not the fragrant, celestial sweetness of peaches of immortality, but the sweetness of something grown in the soil, sun‑dried, and fire‑roasted through.

Sun Wukong chewed, and suddenly felt a warmth in his chest.

He freed a hand and rubbed his chest.

His heart beat inside.

Thud—thud—thud—

Very steady.

No wild pounding.

No panic.

No feeling that it might explode at any moment.

It just beat steadily, thump after thump.

His hand rested on his chest for two breaths.

Then he lowered it.

No need to fight and kill anymore.

When that thought arose, Sun Wukong felt all his bones loosen.

The string that had been wound for who knows how many ten‑thousands of years snapped with a pop.

It wasn't broken.

It was no longer needed.

He shoved the remaining half of the sweet potato into his mouth in a few bites, cheeks bulging like a squirrel's.

Yao passed over a cup of water; he gulped down most of it and let out a satisfied belch.

"Master, roast another one for me."

Bodhi rolled his eyes: "Can't you get it yourself?"

"Yours taste the best."

"Get lost."

Sun Wukong hehe‑laughed and plucked another from beside the fire himself.

This time he didn't rush to eat; he laid the sweet potato on his knee, rubbed it with both hands, and waited for it to cool.

A night wind blew from the pine grove, carrying the scent of resin and earth.

The firelight stretched the three people's shadows long, casting them on the rear courtyard wall.

The three shadows huddled close together.

Sun Wukong lifted his gaze to look at his Master.

The old man shaded his face with a palm‑leaf fan, unclear whether he was dozing or watching the fire.

The firelight fell on his deeply lined old face, revealing only the marks of time.

Sun Wukong then looked at Yao.

Yao lowered her head, slowly nibbling the sweet potato, a speck of black ash on her nose tip, the firelight warming her whole face.

He withdrew his gaze, watching the flames dance before him.

No need to worry about the life or death of the universe.

No need to fret over who might stab him in the back.

No need to risk his life fighting any more battles.

He was just a monkey.

A monkey living on Fangcun Mountain, overseen by his Master, accompanied by his wife.

A happy, happy Beauty Monkey King.

That was enough.

Sun Wukong cracked a smile, split the sweet potato in his hand, and the golden flesh steamed in the firelight.

He took a bite.

This time it wasn't so hot.

Sweetness spread across the tip of the tongue.

The starry sky overhead was very quiet.

The night on Fangcun Mountain was also very quiet.

Only the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of the Bodhi leaf fan.

Sun Wukong tossed the leftover sweet potato skins into the fire, watching them curl, blacken, and turn to ash.

Then he lay back, using his arm as a pillow, and gazed at the sky full of stars.

"Master."

"Hmm."

"Will we still roast tomorrow?"

"... Get lost."

Sun Wukong laughed out loud.

Another piece of wood in the fire broke, sending sparks shooting high, shattering into countless points of light in the night sky.

Like a tiny fireworks display meant just for the three of them.