In the small room, candlelight crackled softly.
Lord Lao tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing through the window and landing on the distant balcony, where the Monkey King stood, seemingly deep in thought.
"Old gentleman, is it like this?"
"Hm?" Lord Lao turned back and saw Belle sitting before him, pointing at the runes on a bamboo slip and asking.
Picking up the bamboo slip, Lord Lao squinted and examined it closely. Stroking his long beard, he said, "This part needs to be changed. 'Jun' should be replaced with 'Fou'; otherwise, the array will malfunction after two months, and fixing it then will be a headache. This side is wrong too—a 'Qi' should be added. Using two 'Gong' runes together without a 'Qi' will cause conflict. My little girl, these are all basic formation-sigil arts. Has your master never taught you this?"
With that, he handed the bamboo slip back to her.
"No," Belle took the bamboo slip and studied it carefully, shaking her head. "Master always said, on the path of cultivation, one must first comprehend the Great Dao, then learn techniques. These formation-sigils are only supplementary, not essential. Belle is still far from the stage of learning such things. Luckily, I've read a few books on the subject during my leisure time, or else I would not have understood a word of what you just said, old gentleman."
"Your master taught you that? Heh, that's quite old-fashioned. These days, such teaching is rare." As he spoke, Lord Lao glanced again toward the balcony, silently pondering: "How can two disciples from the same sect turn out so differently? Silverwood really will stop at nothing to deal with me."
By now, the Monkey King had already left the balcony.
The towering city gate thundered open. Amid the grinding of iron chains, the drawbridge slowly lowered, and the Monkey King strode out with long steps.
A gentle breeze swept by, stirring up a bit of dust.
Across the moat, still dry and lined with sharpened stakes, the Nine-Headed Wyrm stood alone.
Compared to the massive drawbridge, five zhang high, his bare-chested figure seemed strikingly thin. If one didn't know him, no one would imagine he was the incarnation of an ancient beast.
At this moment, the Nine-Headed Wyrm showed none of the mocking arrogance from their first meeting; instead, he looked worried and haggard.
Even when trapped yesterday, he hadn't looked this way, which made the Monkey King a bit suspicious.
Seeing the Monkey King emerge, the Nine-Headed Wyrm hurriedly clasped his hands and said, "Nine-Headed Wyrm greets the Handsome Monkey King."
Such courtesy... was very uncharacteristic of the Nine-Headed Wyrm.
"What is it? Have you really fallen for this place? I let you go, and now you come back?" The Monkey King teased, smiling as he walked up to him.
On the city wall behind, demon guards stood watch, countless eyes fixed warily on the two figures in the open space outside the gate.
The Nine-Headed Wyrm took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, hesitating as he spoke softly, "I heard... you have Peaches of Immortality here."
“A Peach of Immortality?” Monkey King raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at the Nine-Headed Wyrm. “Where did you hear that?”
“Does it really matter where I heard it? The news is true, isn't it? Let's not beat around the bush—don't bother denying it.”
In this world, there truly are no walls the wind can't slip through.
Monkey King lowered his head and twisted his bracer, speaking languidly, “So? You want one.”
“Yes. I want to ask you for one.”
“You probably don’t need one for yourself. Who is it for?”
“That's none of your concern.”
“You want something from me but won’t tell me why? Fine, then I won’t bother.” With that, Monkey King turned to head back into the city.
Seeing this, the Nine-Headed Wyrm was startled and hurried to block Monkey King's path. “Wait, don't go yet.”
Before he could finish, he heard the creak of bows being drawn from the city wall behind him; crossbow bolts gleamed coldly in the night, aimed straight at his back.
Monkey King smiled faintly at the Nine-Headed Wyrm. “So, tell me—who do you want the Peach of Immortality for?”
“For my father-in-law.” The Nine-Headed Wyrm answered, biting his lip helplessly.
“Your father-in-law? The Azurewave Dragon King?”
“Yes, the Azurewave Dragon King.”
His lifespan is running out? How much time does he have left?
Today, after capturing a few Sage's Path cultivators, they said his lifespan is nearly exhausted—at most, two months left.
Two months?
If only two months remain, it's no wonder the Nine-Headed Wyrm is so desperate. With the Grand Peach Banquet still far off, no matter the method, not even a god or immortal could obtain a Peach of Immortality within two months—it's as hard as reaching Heaven.
Back when General Lee secured a hundred peaches, it took over a year of maneuvering—wasn't that right?
To get peaches from the Immortal Peach Orchard, not to mention the Queen Mother's approval, just waiting in line for an audience would take more than two months.
As for Zhenyuan's ginseng fruit, that's not something just anyone can get.
Monkey King nodded silently. “It is urgent. But these peaches are extremely rare. You and I have no personal ties—what do you offer in exchange?”
“What do you want?” the Nine-Headed Wyrm shot back.
“I don't really want anything. Or rather, what I truly want is something you could never give me.”
Hearing this, the Nine-Headed Wyrm grew anxious and uneasy. He turned and pointed at the South Heaven Gate Fleet, shouting, “I can help you capture Nathan or King Virūḍhaka. How about it? Either one—just say the word and I'll go now!”
That was already the highest price he could offer.
The Nine-Headed Wyrm stared wide-eyed, glaring at Monkey King.
To snatch an enemy general from among 180,000 Celestial troops—even with Monkey King's help, even two Golden Immortal cultivators working together, success wasn't guaranteed. Failure was more likely, and one careless move could mean disaster.
But did Monkey King really need this?
Just saying this showed the Nine-Headed Wyrm was already desperate and losing his composure.
After a long silence, Monkey King gave a faint smile and slowly shook his head.
The Nine-Headed Wyrm seemed deflated, clenching his fists tightly.
In fact, he'd already expected to be refused outright, but that bitter, defeated feeling still made him want to transform and burn the whole Demon City down.
But he couldn't; if Monkey King didn't agree, there was no way to get the peach, and if he acted out, he'd lose his chance entirely.
Gritting his teeth, the Nine-Headed Wyrm lowered his voice and asked, “Then what will it take for you to give me a Peach of Immortality?”
"I'm not stingy. I still have sixty-five peaches."
“Sixty-five!” the Nine-Headed Wyrm exclaimed in shock.
“Yes, sixty-five. They're meant as rewards for the Blossom Mountain demons who have served well.”
“Then what if I join your Blossom Mountain? With my abilities, I should be able to earn one, right?”
“You heard me: it's 'demons who have served well,' not just 'demons.' Even if you joined now, could you earn enough merit in two months to get a peach? Blossom Mountain isn't mine alone; those sixty-five peaches belong to everyone.” Monkey King said calmly.
The Nine-Headed Wyrm gave a cold laugh: “Demons have public property? Don't try to fool me—just name your terms. I don't believe I'm not worth a single peach!”