Chapter 521: Eternal Legend! (Final Chapter, Complete)

The fire had been out for a long time.

Under the ashes lay a few uneaten sweet‑potato skins, softened by night dew.

In the backyard of Fangcun Mountain grew an old peach tree.

No one knew how many years it had lived; its trunk was thicker than Wukong's waist, and its bark was cracked like the wrinkles on an old person's hand.

A gentle breeze blew up from the valley.

The leaves on the peach tree rustled softly, as if someone were turning pages in the canopy.

A few withered yellow peach leaves spun down, and one drifted straight into Wukong's cup.

He pinched the leaf out with two fingers and flicked it away.

Then he lifted the cup, tipped his head back, and gulped it down in one gulp.

The tea was brewed by Master.

It used spring water from the old well behind Fangcun Mountain's slope, plus some wild tea leaves that had been stored for who knows how many years.

The taste wasn't great—it was a bit astringent and a bit bitter.

But Wukong felt it was the best thing he had ever drunk in his life.

Better than the nectar served at the Peach Banquet.

Better than the heavenly court's imperial wine.

Better than any immortal fruit or lingzhi.

Just because it was brewed by Master.

The last sip at the bottom of the cup was already cold, with tea leaf dregs.

He didn't leave any; he drank it all.

Clean and neat.

He set the cup on the stone stool beside him, and it made a soft clink.

Yao leaned against him, and the two sat on the stone steps beneath the old peach tree in the courtyard.

Her head rested on Wukong's shoulder, her hair spilling over, the ends brushing his arm.

Wukong didn't move.

He raised his head and gazed at Heaven.

Stars spread across the whole sky.

One beside another, thick and dense, like someone had scattered a bag of broken gold across a black cloth.

He stared for a long time.

In the past, whenever he looked at the stars, he would unconsciously reach out with his senses.

He would sense whether there was any threat behind those stars.

He would sense whether anything in the depths of the universe was lurking.

He would sense whether the order of the Three Realms had gone awry.

Not anymore.

The Three Realms were turning in their usual order.

Mortals farmed, rising with the sun and resting at its set.

The yokai kept to themselves, living honest lives.

The monkeys of Mount Huaguo ate peaches and fought every day, noisy and bustling.

The universe was also very quiet.

The newborn star fields evolved on their own—where grass should grow, grass grew; where bugs should appear, bugs appeared.

No one was stirring up trouble in the dark.

No one was secretly plotting any nefarious schemes.

Everything that needed to be settled had been settled.

Wukong withdrew his gaze and stretched a big, lazy yawn.

His waist bones cracked twice.

Then he let out a big belch.

The sound wasn't small; it echoed a little in the quiet courtyard.

Yao was jolted, shifted a bit, mumbled something, and didn't wake.

Wukong patted his belly, his face wearing the satisfied look of having eaten and drunk his fill.

Such a carefree day—even immortals wouldn't trade it.

After fighting for so many years,

from battling Hongjun to the Original Mistake, from the Three Realms to the edge of the universe,

the result, in the end, was that the most comfortable thing was this——

sitting in Master's courtyard, sipping tea, gazing at the stars, letting out a belch.

Nothing to think about.

Nothing to do.

Just stay like this.

A faint footstep sounded from behind.

Wukong didn't turn his head, but his ears twitched.

Bodhi walked out from the house.

He leaned against the doorframe, one leg bent, holding his own chipped old teacup.

Steam still rose from the tea cup.

The old man didn't speak.

He just leaned there, slowly sipping tea, his eyes on the two figures in the courtyard.

A monkey.

A girl.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the steps, the sky above filled with starlight, and at their feet lay a carpet of fallen peach leaves.

The monkey's mouth was still turned up in a smile, even as he was about to fall asleep.

Bodhi held the tea cup and watched for a while.

He took a sip of tea.

The crease at the corner of his mouth bent slightly.

The two children.

Not easy.

To have lived and made it to today is not easy.

Sun Wukong's head kept drooping lower.

His body unconsciously leaned over, resting on Yao's shoulder.

When the weight pressed down, Yao stirred slightly, shifted her body to adjust the angle, letting him rest more comfortably.

Then she closed her eyes as well.

Sun Wukong's breathing steadied.

After a moment, a faint snoring sound emerged from his nostrils.

Not loud.

Like a kitten dozing.

The night wind blew in, causing his old clothes to billow out and then settle back.

He didn't move.

He slept deeply.

His face looked much younger in the moonlight.

There was no killing intent, no hostility, no that constant tension ready to fight at any moment.

He was just a sleeping monkey.

Bodhi glanced over.

He set down the tea cup, turned and went inside.

When he came out again, he was holding an old robe.

No one knew how many years that robe had been worn; its color had faded to white, and the edges were frayed.

But it was neatly folded.

Bodhi walked over, bent down, and lightly draped the robe over the two of them.

The movement was very gentle.

So gentle it was as if he feared waking something.

As the robe covered him, Sun Wukong mumbled, nudged his head against Yao's shoulder, and hummed twice from his nose.

He didn't wake.

Bodhi straightened up, stood to the side and watched for a few breaths.

Then he turned and left.

He returned to the stone table.

He picked up the cup Sun Wukong had drained, and also lifted the tea bowl Yao had left on the table, half full.

He stacked them together.

He picked up the teapot, poured out the dregs, and wiped the tea stains from the spout with his sleeve.

Then he replaced the lid and put the pot back in its place.

The tea set was neatly put away.

The tabletop was clean.

Bodhi then picked up his old palm-leaf fan and tucked it into his belt.

Having done that, he gave the courtyard one last look.

The leaves of the old peach tree still rustled in the wind.

The two young people leaned together, covered with his old robe, sleeping soundly.

Moonlight poured down from the treetops, patches of light falling on them, piece by piece.

Bodhi turned and walked into the house.

He walked slowly.

His back was slightly bent, but his steps were steady.

When he reached the doorway, he paused.

He didn't know what he was thinking of.

He stood for two breaths.

Then he raised his hand and slowly closed the old wooden door of the Fangcun Mountain Study.

The door hinge creaked.

Squeak—

The door gap grew narrower and narrower.

The moonlight outside was being blocked inch by inch.

The last sliver of light shrank into a thin gap and disappeared.

The gate was shut.

The night on Fangcun Mountain grew quiet.

The wind kept blowing.

Peach leaves kept falling.

The stars across the sky shone upon this inconspicuous little hill.

Shining upon the old peach tree in the courtyard.

Shining upon the two young people sleeping under the tree like two stones.

The Three Realms kept turning.

Days kept passing.

The monkeys of Mount Huaguo will still fight over a banana tomorrow.

The common folk of the mortal world will still haggle at the market tomorrow.

Newborn stars in the depths of the universe will still appear a few more tomorrow.

None of it had anything to do with him anymore.

The story of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

It began from the stone crevice of Mount Huaguo.

It ended beneath the peach tree on Fangcun Mountain.

In between, he traversed the Three Realms and Six Paths.

In between, he smashed the Ling Shan of the Heavenly Court.

In between, he shattered the Heavenly Dao and Hongjun.

In between, he gained a good daughter-in-law.

In between, he repaid the kindness of a good master.

And finally?

Finally, it was just a monkey leaning on his wife's shoulder, snoring.

An old man closed the door and went back inside to sleep.

It wasn't some earth-shattering ending.

But it didn't need to be.

Because a truly good story.

Its ending is always a closed door.

Behind the door lives someone who has returned.

(End of book)