窗体底端

Wukong, after carrying out his deed, felt content in his heart, unaware that it had brought considerable trouble to the Bull Demon King. With nothing else to do, he transformed himself into the appearance of an ordinary man and flew into the mortal realm.

Gliding through the clouds and braving the strong winds, Wukong roamed in a world that seemed as enchanting as the realms of immortals, filled with an indescribable sense of melancholy and sighs.

Suddenly, he heard a commotion from below and landed on a low peak to observe from a distance.

With his exceptional vision, Wukong saw two armies clashing on a plain, chaotic as wolves and wild boars, kicking up clouds of dust that filled the sky.

Upon closer inspection, however, they were not soldiers but rather two groups of civilians, dressed in tattered clothes, with faces yellowed and bodies thin from starvation, wielding makeshift weapons like hoes and sticks. They were so impoverished that it was surprising they still had the energy to fight.

Wukong saw that despite their weakness and lack of martial skills, both groups fought with a fierce gleam in their eyes and flushed faces, as if drunk, desperately aiming for each other's vital points in a fight to the death.

The two groups, numbering over two thousand people, gradually diminished through the battle to a thousand, eight hundred, four hundred... and finally, only about fifty to sixty people remained, standing on the ground like bloodied figures. Logically, one group should have emerged victorious.

Wukong thought the battle was over, but then, inexplicably, those fifty to sixty people, as if possessed, screamed and turned their weapons against their comrades who had just fought alongside them.

After another round of brutal and bloody combat, only two individuals stood, covered in wounds and bleeding, their blood dripping onto the ground, soaked with thick, sticky blood.

Silence.

These two, exhausted beyond measure, were somehow still driven to raise their hoes against each other, taking turns striking, as if engaged in a dull game.

Even from miles away, Wukong felt a chill run down his spine, as if there was nothing more terrifying in the world than this. These two could have been fellow villagers, brothers, or even father and son...

Eventually, one of them could no longer hold up his body. Despite the other's feeble attack, he fell to the ground, splashing blood everywhere.

The victor showed no joy in his triumph. He slowly turned around, surveyed his surroundings, and looked at himself, resembling a ghoul that had walked out of hell. He dropped his hoe, let out a tragic laugh followed by wailing cries.

Wandering among the corpses, he finally collapsed onto one, crying out, "Dad!" before fainting, never to stand up again.

Wukong, squatting on the low peak, was dazed by the scene before him. What had happened to make kin slay each other, erasing over two thousand lives from the world in just an hour?

He then remembered something. This place was not far from the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, located within the Eastern Victory Divine Continent. Buddha once said, "I observe the sentient beings in the four continents, their good and evil vary: those in the Eastern Victory Divine Continent respect heaven and earth, their hearts serene and their spirits calm..." Serene and calm? It seemed more like the deepest hell.

Wukong sat quietly, observing the dead bodies, when suddenly, he noticed a faint white thread, almost invisible, strong and unbreakable, emanating from the corpses.

Despite the wild wind, these threads did not change direction but kept rising upwards, converging into a mass that slowly ascended, creating an eerie sight.

Driven by curiosity, Wukong used a technique to become invisible and attached himself to these threads, eager to discover their destination. The threads rose higher and higher, seemingly called by something in the sky, through the clouds, and even higher.

Wukong thought to himself that he had never been to such heights and wondered what he would find.

As he pondered, darkness enveloped him, and suddenly, a thunderclap rang out, illuminating the surroundings with a flash of lightning. Wukong, amidst the dense clouds and swirling mist, saw that the lightning was headed straight for him. Unable to dodge in time, the lightning passed through him, causing a slight pain in his consciousness but leaving him otherwise unaffected, nor did it affect the threads.

Then, another lightning bolt struck, followed by more, each more powerful and thicker than the last. After nine strikes, the onslaught ceased.

Then, brightness returned, and Wukong found himself in a divine realm. He saw: steps of white jade, gates of gold, treasures and exotic flowers everywhere, nine-colored mystical dragons, and the most exquisite feathered canopies, with phoenixes dancing and singing melodiously. Fairy maidens scattered flowers, golden boys fanned smoke, and celestial music floated in the air.

Before him was a palace bathed in golden light, majestic and elegant, exuding an indescribable aura of dignity.

Following the thousands of white threads, Wukong encountered numerous fairies and celestial beings along the way, all of whom ignored both him and the threads. The threads passed through buildings without hindrance, eventually reaching the back halls of the magnificent palace.

Afterward, in the palace, there was a place set aside for quiet cultivation, sectioned off with curtains made of an unknown material. To Sun Wukong's surprise, within a radius of several miles, the sky was filled with white silk threads, densely packed and numbering in the hundreds of thousands. At the center of this area, four monks surrounded a dark furnace, channeling their energy and forming a whirlwind above it. This whirlwind attracted the white silk threads, each one entering the furnace.

Sun Wukong's eyes flashed with a murderous intent. As he had suspected, each strand of white silk represented the life of a mortal in the human world. Although he did not know the purpose of the furnace, the sin of these four people treating human lives as mere grass was undeniable!

At that moment, the white silk thread to which he was attached began to move toward the furnace.

Through the millions of silk threads, Sun Wukong got closer to the four people, seeing their faces clearly. The person to the east had a face whiter than snow and crimson eyes, with earlobes that reached his shoulders. The person from the south had narrow eyes and a pointed mouth, exuding a feminine charm despite being a man. The one sitting to the west carried an imposing air, resembling that of a sovereign. The person from the north had a slender body and a large head, his neck slightly protruding forward as if competing for food.

Sun Wukong thought hard but could not recall such characters in the Journey to the West.

Seeing that the white silk he was attached to was about to enter the whirlwind and then the furnace, Sun Wukong, unfamiliar with the situation and not daring to take risks, quickly moved to the edge of the curtain. He had observed that the four people's cultivation was not weak, and starting a fight would require significant effort. Moreover, this place was not hidden, and causing a commotion might attract powerful enemies. Thus, he decided to wait and see how things would unfold.

After leaving the curtain, Sun Wukong wandered around the palace. Everyone was busy, seemingly preparing for a major event, with all sorts of festive items available. Strangely, despite spending a few hours walking around, he heard no one speak, suggesting strict rules were in place.

Returning to the curtain, he saw that the number of white silk threads had not changed much, and the four people had stopped their work and were chatting leisurely.

The person from the east said, "We have put in a lot of effort. I wonder what reward the Emperor will give us?"

The person from the south, with a sharp voice, said mockingly, "For such a significant merit, I only want ten thousand miles of land."

The man from the north laughed, "If the Emperor could grant me those four female officials, that would be real merit."

The person from the south spat, "Keep dreaming. Those female officials were personally appointed by the Jade Emperor. Who dares to touch them?"

The man from the north disagreed, "The Lord of the Moon Palace was also personally appointed by the Jade Emperor, and yet someone made a move on her."

The person from the west exclaimed, "Really?"

The man from the north, with a strange smile, said, "How could I be wrong? I saw Tianpeng leaving the Moon Palace myself. When they parted, Chang'e's tears were like rain. It was truly pitiful."

The person from the west pondered, "We must never speak of this. Beware of the trouble that comes from speaking carelessly."

The man from the north arrogantly said, "Tianpeng's skills are mediocre at best. He can't control what I do."