Watching Anna Yang and Ao Cunxin enter the residence from afar, Golden Boy turned over and sighed.
"The Third Princess of the Western Sea is here too. Erik Yang and this Monkey really are in cahoots."
Silver Boy lay beside him, silent.
Resting his arm beneath his head, Golden Boy gazed at the blue sky and asked quietly, "Tell me, how long does Master intend for us to keep watch here? We've been guarding this place for more than five years now, and nothing's come of it."
"It's not so bad," Silver Boy replied. "Better than tending the alchemical furnace back at Tusita Palace. At least here, we get the occasional pill from Master."
"I really can't figure out what Master wants us to do here," Golden Boy said, bracing his waist and sitting up. "We can't keep an eye on Monkey at all. I get the feeling he's known about us being here for ages."
He glanced toward the woods not far away and saw a young monkey squatting leisurely on a book, gnawing on a pear, its eyes fixed on him.
Silver Boy propped himself up as well and, noticing Golden Boy's discouragement, asked, "Hey, where do you think he's hidden all the demons? From what we know, there should be at least twenty thousand demons on Blossom Mountain now, but no matter how we search, we only ever sense fewer than two thousand."
"He must have sent them away," Golden Boy said, sniffing twice. "Last time, we saw with our own eyes that they could leave Blossom Mountain easily without triggering the Boundary Sand. I figure Monkey knows that having a crowd isn't strength—it's just conspicuous. It's not like the old days when demon lords took in random little demons. How many demon kings do you see sheltering the small fry these days?"
"So where did he send them?"
"If even Master isn't worried, why should we be?" Golden Boy twisted open the cap of his gourd, tilted his head back, and drank deeply.
Gazing up at the towering Blossom Mountain, Silver Boy squinted, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "I just can't shake the feeling that Blossom Mountain is far more complicated than we imagine. What exactly are they doing right under our noses?"
After a long pause, he let out a deep sigh. "It's a shame—we can't even get within twenty li of the place now. We have no idea what's really going on."
The two exchanged a glance and smiled helplessly.
......
Inside the dim Cascade Cave, Monkey walked step by step down the tunnel, his Cloud-Walking Staff in hand, following close behind Shadow. Along the way, scattered demonfolk bustled about, pausing to bow in respect as he passed.
They reached the deepest part of Cascade Cave, where a bottomless chasm yawned before them.
This cavern had only been excavated after they moved into Cascade Cave.
Monkey planted his torch into a crevice in the wall, then he and Shadow leapt together into the void, plunging downward at breakneck speed.
Soon, the deep red glow of firelight from the cavern's exit below came into view. The air was thick with roars, shouts, clanging metal, chanting voices, and the grinding of wood—an overwhelming cacophony.
Adjusting their posture mid-fall, both Monkey and Shadow focused their spiritual power, quickly shooting through the cavern's mouth.
A wave of scorching, murky air rushed to meet them.
Before their eyes stretched a vast, crimson chamber—hundreds of zhang high and wide—a colossal cylindrical hollow ablaze with iron and fire, a vision of deep red industry!
Suspended in midair, a towering wooden pulley arm slowly rotated a massive piece of timber—shaped like an unfinished warship. Atop the wood, a scrawny mantis demon waved a flag, directing the operation, while hundreds of demonfolk hauled on ropes along the walls, their sweat flying as they shouted in rhythm.
Countless exposed stone chambers lined the cavern walls, packed with demonfolk.
Some burly demons, drenched in sweat, pumped bellows and forged weapons; others sat neatly in classrooms, reciting texts as if oblivious to the chaos. Demon craftsmen argued over blueprints laid out on tables, faces flushed with passion. Towering beasts carried supplies back and forth, and even shackled Heavenly soldiers were forced to assist, watched over by demon guards wielding whips.
The rock walls were riddled with countless tunnels—dense, crisscrossing, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Stripped to the waist, demon laborers wielded shovels, carving out new chambers and tunnels in the rock. The rubble was sent down via crude wooden lifts, accompanied by the shouts of haulers, then ferried out to the Eastern Sea by fish and shrimp demons along underwater channels.
Dozens of demon carpenters worked at a frantic pace, nailing up panels to reinforce the structure and prevent cave-ins.
Firelight blazed everywhere, bathing the whole scene in a hellish crimson glow and oppressive heat.
This was Blossom Mountain—the real Blossom Mountain, unseen by outsiders. No scenic peaks, no blooming flowers or lush foliage.
A world belonging to demons alone, forged in iron and blood, born from ten thousand years of ceaseless suffering.
They hid themselves underground, never seeing dazzling sunlight, never breathing fresh air, with no rich food and not a moment's peace.
Everything here was tied to suffering—enduring endless pain, struggling to survive, lying in wait, all for the day they could walk openly in the sunlight as demons, with dignity.
On the vast training ground below, thousands of demon soldiers clad in thick armor drilled relentlessly.
At Monkey's arrival, the ranks erupted—they pounded their breastplates, bared their fangs, and roared, the thunderous cries shaking the closed underground world.
Riding a Somersault Cloud, Monkey raised his Cloud-Walking Staff from afar, returning their salute.
Their roars grew even more thunderous.
The very foundations of Blossom Mountain had long since been hollowed out—this was five years of tireless labor.
A vast underground city, a fortress, the embryonic heart of a demon empire. Everything was in place, self-sufficient. A powerful, elite demon army stood ready for battle.
The two landed steadily on a ledge carved into the stone wall.
Shortbeak, who had been waiting there, strode over and thumped his fist against his breastplate. "They're back."
"What's the word?"
"Their terms are steep—too much for us to handle."
"What do they want?"
"Gold Essence."
Monkey paused for a moment, glanced at Shortbeak, then strode on ahead.
Along the wide, crimson-lit tunnel, guards knelt on one knee in salute as he passed.
Many of them were monkeys and apes native to Blossom Mountain, whose intelligence had awakened long ago. After formal training, they had transformed into true demons.
Of course, for monkeys, 'transformation' mostly just meant growing bigger.
At Monkey’s approach, the two guards at the gate quickly swung the doors open. A burst of noise spilled out from within—the vast hall was packed with demons.
Without missing a step, Monkey strode inside.
Instantly, the hall erupted in shouts from the assembled demons.
"Brother Monkey—!"
"Great King—!"
Among the demons in the hall were Blossom Mountain’s generals and officers, foundry chiefs, teachers from the classrooms, logistics coordinators…
Five years ago, they were scattered across the mortal world, struggling just to survive. Now, united by a common future, they fought side by side in every corner of Blossom Mountain’s underground city.
And driving it all was the monkey on the high platform.
In a world defined by rough growth and natural evolution, he forged the embryo of a vast demon empire in just five years of peace—using an impossibly radical, meticulous vision. He parted the clouds and showed every demon a ray of sunlight, teaching them a new way to live.
No more running, no more fear—only the stance of a fighter facing tomorrow.
The hall, twenty zhang across and three zhang high, was thick with air—almost suffocating.
A passage quickly cleared, leading straight to the central platform. On it stood Louis Quickpaw, the squirrel demon, and a cloaked woman.
Step by step, Monkey walked the passage. Through the bustling crowd, he glimpsed the rough stone walls hung with weapons, furs from savage beasts, and the severed heads of demon leaders and Skyward Rangers defeated in the past five years.
He strode straight onto the central platform and raised his hand high.
The doors slammed shut. Instantly, the hall fell silent.
Every demon quieted, their eyes fixed on him.
Louis Quickpaw bowed slightly. "Great King, we have returned."
"How did it go?" Monkey asked, his gaze steady on Louis Quickpaw.
Louis Quickpaw slowly shook his head. "No deal. They insist on Gold Essence—won't even take weapons."
"Those fools are asking for too much. We tried to be reasonable, but they think Blossom Mountain is easy prey." Shortbeak drawled from the side.
The crowd erupted, waving fists and shouting for battle.
The woman beside them removed her felt cap, revealing two red fox ears, a cascade of fiery hair, and a rosy face.
Blinking her large eyes at Monkey, then at Louis Quickpaw, she spoke softly: "For now, we can't reveal our true strength. If Heaven catches wind of it, all our efforts will be wasted. So it's best to keep things quiet."