Drums and music resounded, water sleeves fluttered, and colorful long skirts spun like tops.
As time ticked by, the banquet drew gradually to a close. Yet the expected climax never arrived. With the Queen’s sudden departure, a strange atmosphere fell over the great hall, leaving only songs and dances and the futile strains of pipes and strings coloring the scene.
The Queen still had not returned, no matter how many times she was called for. The little maid standing opposite Monkey was already anxiously pacing in circles. But what could worrying accomplish?
She was just a lowly maid; with the Chancellor unwilling to step forward and take charge, there was nothing she could do. Even the simplest act—encouraging Monkey to drink—would be a grave breach of etiquette.
With the Queen—the heart of the gathering—gone, the whole banquet gradually lost its flavor. Night deepened, and the little maid, out of options, was forced to hastily announce the end.
As he left, Monkey gave the green-robed Chancellor—who remained perfectly composed, chatting and laughing with the ministers—a long, meaningful look.
“What’s wrong?” Marshal Silver asked softly.
“It’s nothing.” Monkey shook his head. “Just feels like something’s off.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Queen suddenly left and still hasn’t returned… If she meant to slight us, why go to all the trouble of inviting us in the first place? Something important must have come up. But what sort of matter would require the Queen herself, while the Chancellor stays unconcerned, not even the slightest bit interested?”
“Yeah... now that you say it, something really does feel off. Should we do something?”
Monkey glanced at Marshal Silver, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes.
“She’s your old subordinate, not mine. It’s only right for you to decide what happens here.”
With that, Marshal Silver silently followed Tripitaka, leaving Monkey standing behind, brow furrowed in thought.
“Should I... do something?” Monkey turned toward the great hall, hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head and muttered, “Forget it. They’ve treated us with such courtesy—it wouldn’t be right to act without permission.”
Saying this, Monkey also followed after Tripitaka.
Under the night sky, the Traveling Palace was utterly silent, save for some commotion in the stables.
...
At that moment, in the temple of Nuwa, deep within the main tower’s crypt bathed in darkness and green light, Rosemary knelt alone.
This crypt was buried more than a hundred zhang beneath the earth; the pitch-black rock walls all around were slick with moisture, making it feel as if she were trapped in a rainforest cave—deeply uncomfortable.
On the wall directly in front of Rosemary, a massive jade mirror glowed with a ghostly green light, casting everything in a shadowy, eerie hue.
This was the only source of illumination in the entire underground palace.
Looking closely, one could faintly see some sort of liquid flowing within the jade, and occasionally, wisps of vapor would rise and swirl like bubbles, barely visible to the eye.
Rosemary knelt there in silence for a long while. Suddenly, a huge, elongated shadow swept across the surface of the jade mirror.
Startled, Rosemary quickly looked up, but the shadow had already vanished without a trace.
Clearly, the jade mirror Rosemary faced was only a small part of something much larger. What she saw was merely the faintest corner of an immense presence.
In truth, it must have been a gigantic hollow mass of jade buried deep underground, with thick jade walls concealing a vast reservoir of water, like the Mother Lake above. Some enormous living being dwelled within.
"I already know the general outline of the matter." A voice echoed within Rosemary’s mind.
The voice was distinctly female—ethereal as the heavens, yet distant, echoing, and tinged with a faint metallic chill, icy and commanding.
Unable to resist, Rosemary clutched tightly at the hem of her dress. Beads of sweat rolled down her smooth forehead, standing out starkly in the eerie green light.
"As Queen of the Women’s Kingdom, do you have anything you wish to explain?"
Rosemary parted her lips slightly, hesitated, but could only close her eyes and slowly shake her head.
"Then, do you have anything you want to say?"
Rosemary quickly raised her head and said, "The Great Sage... the Great Sage is the recognized king of demonkind. Our Women’s Kingdom should treat him with goodwill, not as a mere trespasser. Besides... besides, Your Ladyship, you are also a demon."
"Demon? What is a 'demon'?" the voice coldly retorted.
At that, Rosemary grew even more nervous, blinking rapidly.
"'Demon' is a general term for all cultivators who, apart from humans, have mastered transformation and taken human form," the voice said, its meaning deep and lingering. "The term only appeared after humans were chosen as apostles of the Three Realms to carry out Heaven’s mandate. In fact, I am one of the creators of this term. You are correct—in principle, I am also a demon. Lao Jun, Yuanshi, Tongtian, Zhenyuan, Bodhi... all those who helped coin this term were demons, too."
Rosemary remained silent, simply staring blankly at the jade wall.
There has never been a demon race—there never was, and never will be. 'Demon' is just a label we use to distinguish humans from all other species; all cultivators not born human are called demons. Does it truly mean anything?
Rosemary slowly bowed her head, trembling slightly.