On a deserted street, Tripitaka walked slowly, carrying his travel bag. Yet even after reaching the very heart of the small town, he hadn't encountered a single living soul.
Tripitaka's brows knitted tightly together.
He stood in the very center of the street, glancing around in surprise.
Every corner was piled with the fragments left behind by rotting leaves. Stepping on them made a crisp, piercing rustle.
The trees on either side had all withered, leaving only bare branches swaying in the wind.
On what once seemed a bustling street, almost every house now reeked of decay. Unrepaired windows hung by a single hinge, creaking and groaning in the wind.
Some walls, unable to withstand endless drought and the constant cycle of heat and cold, had already collapsed.
If a sandstorm hit this place, Tripitaka thought, by morning it might disappear completely.
Seeing the scene before him, all his earlier excitement vanished, replaced by helplessness.
He stood in the center of the town for a long time, hesitant, before finally taking a step forward to continue his search.
Whatever the case, since he was here, he might as well accept it. No matter what, he had to find something to drink first.
Soon, he found an old well in an abandoned courtyard. But when he tied the bucket to a rope and lowered it, the only thing he heard was a crisp, hollow 'thud.'
"Has the well dried up?"
Tripitaka craned his neck to peer down into the well.
Inside was pitch black; he couldn't see a thing. But that sound just now had already given him the answer.
Helpless, he shouldered his bag once more and continued searching for life-saving water.
Clearly, this small town was nearly abandoned, and the reason was drought. Finding water here was harder than reaching the heavens.
Still, in the distance, a few wisps of cooking smoke rose. Where there was smoke, there must be at least a few people left—and they should have water.
So, searching as he went, Tripitaka slowly made his way toward the smoke.
At that very moment, outside the town, Monkey was sitting beneath an abandoned grape arbor, cooling himself in the shade.
King Bullhorn hurried over and bowed. "Great Sage, I've got it mostly figured out. It's true—the Heavenly Court has banned rain here. Three years now, not a single drop has fallen."
Monkey pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before asking, "And the reason for the ban?"
"For disrespecting the Heavenly Court."
"How did they disrespect it?"
King Bullhorn frowned, hesitating. "I heard... supposedly they tore down some temple to a Heavenly deity."
"Which deity?"
"No idea."
"No idea?" Monkey raised an eyebrow.
Standing nearby, Louis Quickpaw rubbed his hands and sighed softly, "The Heavenly Court loves banning rain. Back when General Erlang rebelled, they banned rain. Later, at Blossom Mountain, they banned rain too."
"Exactly! That's what they always do," King Bullhorn bared his teeth. "Back at Frost-Rain Mountain, they banned rain too. Whenever something happens, the Heavenly Court's first thought is to ban rain—never mind if it works, just ban it anyway. Really, only mortals fear the rain ban; it doesn't bother us demons at all."
Monkey blinked, thinking carefully.
After a long while, Monkey pointed at King Bullhorn and said softly, "Take a trip to the Heavenly Court. Tell them I sent you. Ask the Jade Emperor for an explanation."
"Understood!"
......
At that moment, a warship was slowly sailing into Lionback.
Unlike ordinary warships, this one was smaller and more refined, adorned with sculptures not seen on typical vessels. It was so lavish that it hardly seemed built for war.
From afar, Anna Yang stood atop a high tower, narrowing her eyes at the sight of the ship.
"That ship..."
"Holy Mother," the demon officer behind her bowed and reported, "that's Lord Many-Eyes's warship."
"His?" Anna Yang hesitated. "Wasn't he stripped of all his official positions?"
Outside the great hall, a gentle breeze stirred and set the banners fluttering.
Belle gazed across the parade grounds, surveying the battered and broken Lionback Kingdom.
Behind her trailed a large retinue of Lord Many-Eyes's personal guards. Whenever Belle took a step forward, they followed; if she retreated, they shuffled back in a clumsy mass. Should she turn suddenly, they scattered like startled flies, only to regroup behind her with uncanny speed.
Each demon was unfailingly respectful, yet seemed to avoid obstructing Belle's view.
Seeing them, Belle found she could not bring herself to be angry. She suddenly realized: these were all just unfortunate souls.
Who would willingly follow behind another like a shadow, earning only resentment?
In the end, they were simply obeying orders.
But those at the top—do they truly live better lives?
She recalled what she once said to Monkey: "A person's happiness depends on the breadth of their heart. Even becoming a deity neither adds nor diminishes that measure..."
Slowly, Belle sighed in resignation and smiled.
That was a lesson from Subhuti. Yet after all these years, though her cultivation had grown, had anyone truly broadened their heart?
Suddenly, she remembered the familiar faces of Blossom Mountain, and that monkey. She remembered that the soul sitting in this hall belonged to another part of him.
The mortal world surges on, each person caught in its current, struggling to stay afloat. She had thought herself ashore, only to be dragged back into its depths...
...
Inside the vast, empty hall, Lord Many-Eyes hurried forward in small steps to the throne of Damon Six-Ears, knelt, and bowed deeply. "Your humble servant, Many-Eyes, pays respects to the Great Sage. The Miss Belle you have long yearned for has already reincarnated. I have found her for you! She waits outside for your summons!"
At these words, Damon Six-Ears' brows slowly knitted into a troubled eight-shaped furrow.