I am submissive in Journey to the West, I strike hard at the gods

"Five thousand years..."

He muttered to himself, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger, only a hint of surprise, "It took so long."

Before he finished speaking, a streak of azure light sped over from afar, landing ten feet away and revealing Du Fu's figure.

Five thousand years have passed, and this third disciple has completely shed his scholarly air, exuding an aura of great power, yet his brows still carry a gentle and refined smile.

He bowed and greeted the teacher.

Jiang Wang looked up at him and nodded slightly: "Get up and talk."

How many days until humanitarian recovery?

"Teacher, there are only nine days left."

Du Fu's voice was deep, with a hint of barely concealed excitement, "In the Hidden Realm, billions of loyal human beings have long been on high alert as you instructed, waiting only for the day of resurgence so that they can step out of the Hidden Realm and fight a decisive battle against the Heavenly Court."

After hearing this, Jiang Wang remained silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled: "Jiutian... he did manage to come out of seclusion at just the right time."

He raised his hand and flipped it, and two small jade bottles flew out from his sleeve. One bottle contained three hundred Quasi-Saint Divine Pills, and the other contained three thousand Great Luo Heaven Pills. Before the fragrance of the pills could even waft out, he sealed them tightly with his supreme magic power, preventing any leakage.

He handed the two bottles to Du Fu, his voice indifferent: "Take these and choose the most loyal and qualified people in the hidden realm. Give each of them one Quasi-Saint Pill and ten Great Luo Heaven Pills. Within nine days, take as many as you can."

Du Fu accepted the pills with both hands, his palms trembling slightly, but then he heard Jiang Wang continue, "These are all the high-end pills I have here."

"From now on... it's unlikely we'll ever have another like this."

Du Fu was taken aback and looked up at his master, only to see Jiang Wang's gaze distant, as if looking at a very, very far place.

"Disciple understands."

Du Fu said in a low voice, "But... Master, why don't you step forward yourself? With your current cultivation level, you could easily subdue the human race with just a wave of your hand—"

Jiang Wang shook his head, interrupting him: "I know that the human race has a problem with me."

I killed too many people and shed too much blood back then, so they resent me, but I don't blame them.

In matters of cause and effect, what you owe, you must repay.

I gave the hidden realm 20,000 years to thrive, gave them billions of loyal followers, and gave them hope for a comeback today. This cause and effect is now settled.

He paused, his voice so low it was almost inaudible: "Once the great war between the celestial beings and humans is over, I will sever the last ties with the human race."

From this day forward, humanity is humanity, and I am myself.

Du Fu opened his mouth, but in the end only let out a long sigh, and bowed his head to reply, "Yes."

Jiang Wang waved his hand: "Go ahead."

Remember, do not disturb me for the next nine days. I want to enjoy some peace and quiet during these last nine days.

Du Fu withdrew.

Jiang Wang stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the western horizon, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"The Devouring Heaven Plan... let's postpone it for now."

Anyway, there's no escaping it.

With a single step, he appeared in Chang'an West Market, thousands of miles away.

The clamor of voices, the calls of vendors, the sizzling sound of frying dough sticks in oil, the wine flags fluttering in the wind... all this mundane liveliness rushed towards him, like a warm hand gently patting his heart.

Jiang Wang looked down at his plain white robe, dusted off non-existent dust, and slowly walked into the crowd.

He didn't use any magic power; he simply walked slowly through the crowd, observing and listening like an ordinary passerby.

He bought a string of candied hawthorns, took a bite, and found them sour they made his teeth ache; he squatted by the street, watching two mud children fight, the winner pinning the loser down in the mud, crying his eyes out; he sat in a teahouse, listening to an old tea drinker boast that there were fox spirits in the Western Regions who specialized in bewitching people's souls, his spittle flying everywhere; he also went to a restaurant, ordered a pot of the cheapest strong liquor and a plate of peanuts, sat by the window, and watched the sunset slowly sink below the rooftops, dyeing the entire city of Chang'an orange-red.

At that moment, he suddenly felt that five thousand years of seclusion had been worthwhile.

The system's cold, impersonal notification sounded in my mind without warning:
[Ding—Side Quest (Quest Thirty-Two): The Old Turtle on the Back of the Tongtian River for Three Years has been automatically completed.]

】

[Reward: 50 million experience points, plus one experience point lottery draw.]

】

Jiang Wang was just putting a peanut in his mouth when he heard this and almost choked.

He coughed twice and frowned: "...I had completely forgotten about that."

Fifty million experience points were directly credited to his account. The lottery wheel spun around in his mind and finally stopped on an ancient bronze fragment.

System notification: [Obtained fragment of incomplete innate spiritual treasure (3/36)]

Jiang Wang casually tossed the fragments into the Chaos Bell to nurture them, but he couldn't manage a smile.

Where are Tang Sanzang and his disciples now?

He did a quick calculation with his fingers, and his brows immediately furrowed.

With the Tongtian River matter settled, the next step is the magical duel in Chechi Kingdom, and after that... those three beasts, Tiger Power Immortal, Deer Power Immortal, and Sheep Power Immortal.

If the great war between the celestial beings and humans breaks out within nine days, the battlefield will inevitably spread to Xiniu Hezhou, and the journey to the West will be filled with blood and fire. The four disciples and their dragon horse will probably be reduced to dust in an instant.

Even more terrifying is Hongjun.

If that old man knew that Jiang Wang had already emerged from seclusion, he would most likely seize upon the opportunity to make trouble for Tang Sanzang and his disciples, using them as "pilgrims on a pilgrimage."

For the sake of the human race's lifeline, he was forced to hesitate to act rashly.

Jiang Wang lowered his eyes, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, making a very soft "tap, tap" sound.

sound.

"No gambling."

He whispered, as if to himself, "Although I am now confident that I can destroy the Heavenly Court with one punch, if Hongjun really uses the master and disciple to threaten me... I may not be able to do it."

Thinking of this, a long-lost sense of irritation suddenly rose in his heart.

"That's all."

He stood up, tossed down a few pieces of silver, stepped out of the restaurant, and vanished without a trace in a flash where no one was around.

West bank of the Tongtian River.

Three years, a full three years.

Despite being protected by his brocade cassock, Tang Sanzang's skin was still tanned and cracked, and his lips were as dry as old tree bark. Zhu Bajie, who was once round and plump, was now skin and bones, his belly sticking to his spine, and he could barely walk. Sha Wujing sat cross-legged in a corner of the turtle's back, meditating with his eyes closed, but his spiritual energy was blocked by the water mist around the turtle, and after three years, his cultivation had not progressed but regressed. The worst off was Sun Wukong, whose fiery eyes were sunburned red, his fur was scorched yellow, and his tail was twisted into a pretzel. He had been unable to move for three years, and he longed to stuff his golden cudgel into the turtle's mouth.

One day, Pigsy was so hungry he was dizzy, and he slipped and fell with a "plop".

It tumbled off its back and crashed onto the sandy riverbank, where it remained for a long time before getting up.

Tang Sanzang was taken aback, tried to move his wrist, and exclaimed in surprise, "Huh? It's not moving?"

Sun Wukong "whoosh"

He jumped up, somersaulted on his cloud, and almost cried tears of joy: "Damn it, I'm free!"

Sha Wujing opened his eyes, stood up, and felt his joints cracking all over.

There was a bang.

Pigsy lay on the ground, his voice weak: "Brother... I'm hungry... get me something to eat first..." Monkey King laughed loudly: "Don't be impatient, you fool, I'll go to Chechi City and get some vegetarian food right away!"

After saying that, he disappeared into the horizon in a somersault.

In less than half an hour, Wukong returned carrying a full food box of steaming hot vegetarian food. The four of them sat around the riverbank and wolfed down the food.

Tang Sanzang ate until tears streamed down his face, choking back sobs as he said, "Amitabha... this humble monk never wants to touch the river again..."

After eating and drinking their fill, the group went to the riverbank to say goodbye to the old turtle.

The old turtle stretched out its enormous head, its voice aged: "Holy monk, if you encounter the Buddha on your journey to the West, please ask for me how much of my lifespan I have left?"

Tang Sanzang put his hands together and said solemnly, "Excellent, excellent, this humble monk will certainly not fail your trust."

The old turtle nodded and slowly sank to the bottom of the river, splashing water everywhere.

The four travelers packed their belongings, the white dragon horse transformed into a dragon and carried Tang Sanzang, Zhu Bajie carried the load, Sha Wujing led the horse, and Sun Wukong held his staff to clear the way, and they embarked on their journey to the West once again.

The sun was shining brightly, a gentle spring breeze was blowing, and everyone felt more relaxed than ever before.

But after walking less than ten miles, a figure suddenly appeared in the middle of the official road ahead.

The man, dressed in a black robe, stood with his hands behind his back. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, making it impossible to see his eyebrows and eyes, only revealing a pale, sharp chin.

Sun Wukong saw it from afar, and with a sweep of his fiery eyes, his heart sank. His golden cudgel clanged in his hand.

The sound almost hit the ground, the voice was dry:

“...Junior brothers, it seems we're in trouble again.”

Heavy snow blocked the mountain pass, and the cold wind was like a knife.

Ever since Tang Sanzang and his disciples nearly lost their lives at Huangfeng Ridge, they have been extremely cautious on their westward journey.

After traveling for most of the day, the mountain path became increasingly rugged. Ahead lay a vast expanse of white, with snowflakes swirling wildly in the wind, stinging their faces.

Tang Sanzang sat on the back of the white dragon horse, his lips were so cold that they turned purple, and his fingers had long since lost all feeling. He held the reins tightly in his sleeve, not daring to let go.

"Master, the area ahead is no man's land."

Sun Wukong, carrying his golden cudgel, led the way, sweeping away the snow with the tip of his cudgel, making a rustling sound. "The snow is getting heavier and heavier. In my opinion, we should find a mountain hollow to take shelter in."

Tang Sanzang nodded reluctantly, but suddenly raised his hand and pointed ahead: "Wukong, look at that person... why does his back look so strange?"

In the snow, a slender figure walked alone, wearing a gray-blue Taoist robe, with his back to them, his steps slow, as if he had become one with the wind and snow.

The most eye-catching thing was the long sword hanging at the man's waist, with dark red strips of cloth wrapped around the scabbard, which faintly gleamed with blood in the wind and snow.

Sun Wukong's fiery eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on his staff, his killing intent surging: "Master, don't move! That fellow... is clearly Jiang Wang!"

With a roar, he swung his golden cudgel in a wide arc, the shadow of the cudgel creating a whistling sound, and it looked like he was about to smash the man into a pulp.

The man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; he gently sidestepped the blow and turned around.

He had a gaunt old face, with white hair and beard, but a cinnabar mole between his eyebrows. He looked at Wukong with a smile and said, "Monkey, don't make a move. This old Taoist priest is just passing by."

Wukong looked closely and realized he had mistaken the person for someone else.

Although the man's physique was seven or eight parts similar to Jiang Wang's, he had a more otherworldly air about him. His brows did not have that chilling sinister aura; instead, they carried a faint sense of compassion.

"what?"

Wukong scratched his cheek. "You're not that killer...who are you?"

The old man smiled slightly, cupped his hands and said, "I am the Old Ancestor of the Hill, and I have long admired the name of the pilgrim. I have come today to offer a word of advice."

Ahead lies Jindu Mountain and Jindu Cave, where a powerful unicorn king dwells, who preys on passing monks.

If you and your disciples force your way in, you may not escape unscathed.

Upon hearing this, Tang Sanzang quickly dismounted, clasped his hands in prayer, and said, "Thank you for your guidance, old immortal. Is there any alternative route?"

The old patriarch of the hill stroked his beard and laughed, "Yes, there is, but it's a three-thousand-mile detour, the mountain roads are rugged, and the wind and snow are even stronger. I'm afraid the holy monk's health... tsk tsk."

He shook his head, took out a vibrant green bamboo leaf from his sleeve, and handed it to Tang Sanzang. "Very well, I'll give you a bamboo leaf. If you ever face a life-or-death crisis, just crush this leaf, and I will come to your rescue."

Wukong sneered: "On my journey to the West, I've encountered countless demons. Do I need a single leaf from you?"

The old ancestor of the hill was not angry, but said calmly, "The monkey is impatient, he will suffer sooner or later."

After saying that, he turned around and walked away through the snow. After only a few steps, his figure gradually blurred and turned into a wisp of wind, disappearing into the snow-covered sky without leaving a single footprint.

Wukong was stunned for a moment, poking a deep hole in the snow with his staff, and muttered, "Good heavens... he's actually a reclusive master! I, Old Sun, have misjudged him!"

Tang Sanzang held the bamboo leaf, feeling grateful, and was about to put it in his sleeve when Pigsy suddenly exclaimed, "Eh!"

He groaned, staring at the direction the old man had disappeared, and scratched his head sheepishly. "Master, what did that old Taoist call himself again? Ancestor of the Hill? Hill... Hill..."

Sha Wujing frowned: "What's wrong, Senior Brother?"

Bajie grinned, revealing two rows of large front teeth: "The two characters 'mountain' and 'hill' put together make up the character 'Yue', right? Yue is the 'Wang' in Jiang Wang! This old Taoist is clearly Jiang Wang in disguise!"

Tang Sanzang was greatly alarmed, his hand trembled, and the bamboo leaf almost fell to the ground: "Is this really true?"

Wukong slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "That's right! How could I, Old Sun, not have thought of that! That fellow loves to play the fool and eat the tiger trick! Master, quickly throw away that leaf!"

Tang Sanzang hurriedly threw the bamboo leaves on the ground, and Bajie quickly stomped on them a few times with his nine-toothed rake, then hopped around and crushed them, as if afraid that he wouldn't be able to crush them.

A few more snowflakes suddenly appeared on the ground, and were blown away by the wind.

"Hmph, let's see how you manage to harm people now!"

Pigsy, beaming with pride, patted the snow off his hands.

No one noticed that the smallest leaf was swept up by the wind and gently stuck to the mud and snow on the sole of Pigsy's shoe. With each step he took, Pigsy steadily followed the group westward.

a few days later.

The wind and snow intensified.

After crossing several desolate mountains, Tang Sanzang and his disciples were already starving and freezing.

With each step the white dragon horse took, its gait was uneven, and the white breath it exhaled from its nostrils was instantly frozen into ice whiskers.

Tang Sanzang was so cold that he couldn't even finish reciting the Buddhist chants; he just hunched his neck and his lips turned blue.

Suddenly, a mountain valley appeared ahead, and deep within it, there were three thatched huts with thick snow on their roofs and wisps of white smoke rising from their chimneys, along with the faint aroma of rice.

"Amitabha……"

Tang Sanzang's eyes lit up, and his voice trembled, "There are houses ahead. Disciples, let's go with your master to beg for some food."

Wukong stood on the mountain ridge, his brows furrowed.

His sharp eyes swept over the thatched hut, and he was immediately horrified—there was no one inside. Instead, there was a thick, impenetrable mass of black demonic energy, swirling between the beams and pillars, with a faint smell of blood emanating from it.

"Master, wait!"

Wukong somersaulted back and stopped Tang Sanzang, "That house is strange! It's filled with demonic energy; it's definitely not a good place!"

Tang Sanzang shivered from the cold: "Wukong... I really can't walk anymore... I just... I just need to beg for a meal, it's... it won't hurt..."

Wukong gritted his teeth, grabbed a dry branch from the ground, and drew a large circle in the snow, enclosing the four of them, including their horse, inside: "Master, the three of you stay inside the circle and don't go anywhere! I, Old Sun, will go beg for alms. If there are any monsters, I'll beat them to a pulp!" (End of Chapter)