After briefly handling a few matters, Monkey hurriedly left Cascade Cave, vaulting skyward in a single rolling leap.
Five years have passed; he is no longer the monkey who had to hide and skulk. Thanks to his extraordinary talent, both his cultivation and mastery of spell arts have reached their peak.
Ferocious winds whipped around him at high altitude, making his robes tremble violently.
Bathed in sunlight, the endless sea of clouds flowed slowly beneath him.
He glanced at the sky, found his bearings, and with the Cloudwalker Staff in hand, his figure blurred into a streak of golden light, shooting southwest.
The oncoming gale crashed against him like surging waves, stinging his cheeks.
As his speed increased, spiritual power quickly condensed around him to shield against the violent air currents. In his furious sprint, space itself warped—sky, clouds, earth, rivers—all turned to streaks of white rushing past behind him.
The turbulent airflow swelled and spread, tearing open the entire cloud sea below.
On the way, a Heavenly Fleet warship’s lookout witnessed the startling scene. With a blink, Monkey had vanished, leaving only the sliced-open clouds as proof it wasn’t a hallucination.
Of course, even if such a being allowed him a clear look, he’d surely pretend not to see.
In just an instant, Monkey had crossed tens of thousands of miles and arrived at Avalon Mountain.
He hovered behind the clouds, closed his eyes, then snapped them open. Where they had been pitch-black, his eyes now shone silver-white.
Peering through the clouds, he looked down at the vast expanse of Avalon Mountain. Nothing beneath the sunlight escaped his gaze.
Thick palisades had been built around the perimeter, with rotting demon heads hanging from towering bamboo spikes. Rows of braziers sent up billowing smoke.
Countless cultivators and Skyward Legionnaires, weapons in hand, patrolled back and forth—guards every five paces, sentries every ten. Overhead, Skyward Rangers on Pegasus could be seen weaving through the sky.
Deeper inside, dense forests and rushing rivers concealed arrays everywhere. Even the earth veins below bristled with layered formations monitoring the spiritual power from flight arts.
If it were just the old flight-restriction arrays, Monkey could break them in countless ways. But now, with the focus shifted to tracking the spiritual ripples from spellcasting...
Seeing all this, he couldn't help but smile.
This was no longer the Avalon Mountain of years past.
In recent years, demon forces in the mortal world had expanded rapidly—even Avalon Mountain was threatened. The defenses had become so tight that even the Skyward Legionnaires were involved; the entire mountain was now an iron fortress.
If he had recklessly pierced through the clouds just now, he would have triggered the arrays for sure. That would mean a battle—and there were several of the Twelve Golden Immortals here.
Facing them, it was hard to say if he could escape unscathed.
Gathering his strength, Monkey sprinted along a curved path upward, entering the second heaven. Only after passing above the range of Avalon Mountain's arrays did he release all his spells, letting himself plunge into the clouds.
His figure accelerated, whistling toward the earth like a meteor. In an instant, he pierced the clouds, and just as he was about to crash into the ground, he abruptly invoked his arts, halting in midair, dispersing his momentum, and landing steadily in a forest.
The moment his feet touched the ground, alarms blared throughout the area.
"They can detect even this... truly sharp," he sighed helplessly, glancing around.
His gaze pierced the dense woods and rocky hills. He clearly saw, a mile ahead, over a dozen cultivators rushing toward him with weapons drawn. Two hundred yards to the rear, squads of five Skyward Legionnaires were sprinting his way.
There were also two Skyward Rangers on Pegasus nearby...
And these were just the ones close by—the distant ones were too many to count.
The entire sector had been alerted.
Just as Monkey gripped his Cloudwalker Staff, ready to fight, he sensed a young cultivator at the Spirit-Focusing Realm about a hundred yards away, standing frozen and bewildered at the sound of the alarms.
Monkey’s lips curled into a smile. "You’ll do!"
Lowering himself, he dashed through the forest, reaching the young cultivator in an instant.
The sight of Monkey left the young man gaping in terror.
Before he could react, Monkey pointed at him—a moment later, the youth was transformed into a sapling, and Monkey himself took on his exact appearance.
By then, the cultivators and Skyward Legionnaires sent to the scene began to arrive.
A leading Skyward Legionnaire opened his mouth to ask something, but a cultivator behind him patted his shoulder and said, "Don’t bother. Clearly didn’t see anything. If a Spirit-Focusing Realm disciple had run into the intruder, he wouldn’t be standing here unharmed."
Hearing this, the Skyward Legionnaire glanced at Monkey, then turned and left with the others without another word.
After that, passersby didn’t spare Monkey a glance.
Only after the cultivators and Skyward Legionnaires had left did Monkey recall something.
He reached out and restored the young cultivator, knocked him out, and searched him thoroughly.
Sure enough, he found two tokens and some miscellaneous items.
One token bore the name 'Jace Goldcloud'—that must be his name.
Monkey pocketed everything, then pointed again, transforming the youth into a rock this time.
Bending down, Monkey patted the stone and whispered, "Don’t worry. The spell will wear off in two days; you can report back then."
With that, he turned and vanished into the dense woods.
......
At Crescent Star Cave, sunlight gleamed brightly in front of the grand pavilion.
A gentle breeze swept past, sending dead leaves fluttering onto the uneven stone path, trembling lightly in the wind.
Belle brushed aside her sleeve, reached out a slender hand, bent down to pick up a dead leaf, and raised it to the sunlight for a closer look.
Under the sunlight, the withered leaf turned translucent, its veins faintly visible.
Light filtered through its torn edges, casting a glow on her still-youthful face and emerald-clear eyes.
She stared blankly for a long time, fluttered her long lashes, then pouted, lowered her head, and let the leaf fall back to the stone path.
It had been over six years since Monkey left Crescent Star Cave.
In those six years, she had grown from a ten-year-old girl into a graceful young woman. Yet, perhaps because she grew up in this Daoist sanctuary, she felt she had not truly lived these beautiful years.
Her blue Daoist robe concealed her figure, and not even a single fine red hairpin adorned her bun. Her simple attire was like a budding flower—shy and understated.
She sat on the steps before the pavilion, took a deep breath, rested her chin on her hand, and waited quietly, a little anxious.
After a long while, when the sun had begun to slant in the sky, she finally saw Elder Gale approaching from afar.
She quickly rose and bowed, speaking softly, "Disciple Belle greets Master."
"You’re here?" Elder Gale nodded, brushed past her, and pushed open the wooden door. "Come in."
Belle silently lowered her head and followed Elder Gale into the pavilion, climbed the stairs, and stood blankly in the spacious third-floor room, like a quail.
Elder Gale sat on a meditation mat, stroked his long beard, and asked, "Elder Sky said you applied to leave the sanctuary. Is that true?"
Belle nodded quietly and replied in a low voice, "Disciple wishes to visit Eighth Uncle’s Cloudrise Pavilion."
Her voice held a trace of timidity.
"You wish to go?"
"Disciple has reached the Spirit-Refinement Stage and wants to cultivate at Cloudrise Pavilion like the senior brothers and sisters." She blinked as she spoke.
The panic and anxiety in her expression did not escape Elder Gale’s notice.
After a moment of silence, as if making up his mind, Elder Gale looked up at Belle and said slowly, "Tenth Brother is not at Cloudrise Pavilion."
"Huh?" Belle was taken aback, lifting her head in confusion. "Uncle Samson isn’t at Cloudrise Pavilion?"
"That’s right, he’s not there—never has been. To be precise, he’s never set foot in Cloudrise Pavilion."
"How—how can that be?" Belle managed a disbelieving smile. "Miles Moon, Uncle Skylar, Elder Dante, and Elder Sky all said Uncle Samson was at Cloudrise Pavilion. I even wrote him a letter just last month."
Elder Gale took a deep breath and sighed, "I know. I told them to say that. But he’s never been there. Miles Moon, myself, Elder Sky, Elder Dante—even our master knows this."
Belle froze, dazed for a long time before finally asking, "Then where is Uncle Samson?"
"He..." Elder Gale pursed his lips. "He’s already graduated. From now on, he only keeps his name at Crescent Star Cave. He’s out pursuing what he wants—don’t concern yourself with him."
"But... he never mentioned it in his letters..."
Indeed, he never mentioned it.
Every reply contained only the words 'I am well'—nothing more. Belle wished so much that he would ask about her own life, even once.
More than once, she doubted whether Monkey wrote the replies himself, but the handwriting was unmistakably his, and only they understood the script.
If not him, then who else could it be?
Six years, countless letters—each one filled with her thoughts and worries, even trivial details. She went to great lengths to ensure each was delivered.
First she asked Miles Moon, then when he entered seclusion, she went to Elder Sky, and later to Elder Dante...
No matter how much she wrote, it was like casting a stone into the sea—the reply always held only those three words.
She never understood, nor did she want to dig deeper. But now...
A gentle breeze drifted in from outside, brushing her face and stirring her hair.
Warm sunlight illuminated the floor.
Time seemed to stand still, making it hard to breathe.
Her eyes reddened as she blinked and asked, "Was it Master... Was it Master who expelled Uncle Samson from the sect?"
Watching Belle’s shifting emotions, Elder Gale slowly shook his head. "He chose to leave. No one forced him."
"How could that be? He... it took him a year just to enter the sanctuary, and he never mastered the Seventy-Two Transformations. How could he choose to leave?"
She still remembered the stubborn face of the monkey kneeling at the gate, vowing to learn immortality and never be just an ordinary monkey. If he failed, he would die at the doorstep.
She remembered that cold night—the monkey, bloodied and barely alive, refusing to submit even at the brink of death.
She remembered how he clutched his own sleeve and said, "I don’t need anyone to save me."
She remembered the scars covering his body—so shocking to behold...
He was so stubborn; as long as there was a glimmer of hope, he would never give up.
"How could he... How could he give up?" Belle’s eyes widened as tears fell one by one. "Impossible! He left, but didn’t tell me?"
"Whatever the reason, he’s gone. And you should forget him."
"No! That can’t be true. You must’ve done something to him—that’s why he left!" Belle cried out.
At her outburst, Elder Gale was taken aback, then suddenly furious. He slammed his palm on the floor, pointed at Belle, and thundered, "Insolent! How dare you speak to your master like this? Who taught you?"
But the expected retreat did not come.
The girl everyone saw as timid and fearful now stared at Elder Gale with her emerald eyes, clenched her fists, and, through tears, met her master’s gaze without flinching.
"Where is he, really? What happened to him? What’s wrong? Why won’t you let me know? Tell me!"
For a moment, even Elder Gale was stunned, mouth slightly open, unable to speak.
He had never seen Belle like this. She’d always been obedient and timid, agreeing to anything he asked, never daring to talk back.
But now...
In the small room, everything seemed frozen in that moment.
Belle bit her lip, tears streaming down.
Elder Gale stared wide-eyed, silent.
The two faced each other in silence, locked in a standoff for a long, long time...