Volume 1: Unsayable – Chapter 29: Unexplained Murder

After committing this act, Wukong felt satisfied, unaware that it would bring great trouble to the Bull Demon King. Since he had nothing to do, he transformed into an ordinary man and flew down to the mortal world.
Navigating through sea of clouds and facing strong winds, Wukong wandered in this fairy-like realm, filled with indescribable emotions.
Suddenly, he heard noise on the ground, so he landed on a low peak and watched from afar.
With his sharp eyes, Wukong saw two armies fighting on a plain, charging wildly and raising clouds of dust.
Upon closer inspection, they were not armies but two groups of commoners—tattered and emaciated, wielding tools like hoes and sticks. They were utterly destitute.
How could they still have the strength to fight?
These two groups, seemingly driven by some deep hatred, fought fiercely despite their inferior strength and lack of martial skills. Their eyes were fierce, their faces red, as if drunk. Every strike targeted vital points, with no intention of stopping until one side died.
Together, they numbered no less than two thousand. After a while, the number dwindled to one thousand, eight hundred, four hundred… Eventually, only fifty or sixty people remained standing, like bloodied figures. Logically, one group should have won.
Wukong thought the battle was over, but those fifty or sixty people, as if possessed, suddenly roared and attacked their former comrades with their weapons.
After another bloody and brutal fight, only two people remained standing in the vast clearing. Both were covered in wounds, with blood dripping from their tattered clothes onto the ground soaked in thick blood.
Silence.
Both were exhausted, but some force kept them going. They raised their hoes and slowly attacked each other—stroke after stroke, as if playing a dull game.
Though miles away, Wukong felt his hair stand on end, thinking there was nothing more terrifying in the world. Perhaps these two were fellow villagers, brothers, or father and son…
Finally, one of them could no longer hold himself up. Though the other’s hoe was weak, it still knocked him to the ground, splashing blood everywhere.
The other man showed no sign of joy at victory. He slowly turned around, looked around, then at himself, like a demon emerging from the netherworld. He threw down his hoe, laughed bitterly at the sky, and then burst into tears.

He wandered among the corpses, searching, until finally he threw himself on one and cried, “Father!” Then he fainted and never got up again for a long time.
Wukong sat on a low peak, stunned by what he saw. What could have caused relatives to kill each other? Over two thousand lives vanished from the world in just an hour!
At that moment, Wukong suddenly remembered something: this place was less than ten thousand miles from Flower-Fruit Mountain and belonged to the Eastern Victory Continent. The Tathagata had once said, “I observe the four great continents—beings there vary in goodness and evil. In the Eastern Victory Continent, people revere heaven and earth, with peaceful hearts and calm spirits…” What a claim of peaceful hearts and calm spirits! Even Avici Hell probably couldn’t compare.
Wukong sat quietly, observing the corpses everywhere. Suddenly, he faintly sensed a thread of white silk rising from one of the corpses—faint, as thin as spider silk yet strong and unbroken.
No matter how the wild wind blew, the white thread never changed direction; it kept rising upward. Thousands of such threads gathered together and slowly ascended, an extremely eerie sight.
Curious, Wukong used his invisibility spell to attach himself to the thread and investigate further. The threads rose slowly, as if something in the sky was calling them upward, higher and higher, through the clouds.
Wukong thought to himself, “I’ve never been this high before. What could be up there?”
As he wandered in thought, darkness grew around him, and soon he couldn’t see anything. Then there was a crackling thunderclap, and a flash of lightning. Using that light, Wukong saw that the surroundings were filled with dark clouds and swirling mist—unknown where he was. The lightning headed straight for him; there was no time to dodge. As the lightning passed through his body, he felt only a slight pain in his consciousness, nothing else. The white threads were unaffected by the lightning at all.
Soon after, another lightning strike came, then another—each more intense and thicker than the last. The lightning struck nine times before stopping.
Then everything became bright, and he found himself in a realm of immortals. There were white jade steps and golden palaces; rare treasures and exotic flowers were everywhere. Nine-colored dragons and magnificent feathered canopies surrounded him, with qilins dancing and phoenixes singing. Immortal maidens scattered flowers, golden boys blew incense, and celestial music floated through the air.
Before him lay a palace glowing with golden light—magnificent, grand, and exuding an indescribable sense of majesty.
Wukong followed those thousands of white threads, encountering many immortal maidens and boys along the way, who ignored both him and the threads. The threads passed through rooms and buildings without any obstruction, leading him to the back hall of the grand palace.

Inside the hall, there was a secluded area separated by an unknown curtain. Wukong was astonished to find that within several miles around, the sky was filled with countless white threads—tens of thousands of them. At the center of this area, four cultivators were concentrating their energy around a pitch-black furnace. They cast spells to create a vortex above the furnace, which drew the white threads in, one by one, into it.

A murderous intent appeared in Wukong’s eyes. As he had guessed, each of those white threads represented the life of a mortal in the world. Though he didn’t know what the furnace was for, it was clear these four men had committed the crime of sparing no lives!

At that moment, the white thread he was inhabiting began to move upward toward the furnace.

Through those millions of threads, Wukong got closer and closer to the four men, able to see their faces clearly. The man on the east side had a snow-white complexion, red eyes, and ears that drooped to his shoulders. The man on the south side had narrow eyes like eyebrows and a sharp mouth; though male, he had a seductive appearance. The one sitting on the west side exuded an imposing presence, resembling a king. The man on the north side had a slender waist and a large head, his neck slightly forward as if ready to compete for food.

After thinking for a long time, Wukong couldn’t recall any of these four characters from Journey to the West.

Seeing that the thread he was on had reached the vortex and was about to enter the furnace, Wukong realized the situation was strange. Unfamiliar with the place, he didn’t dare take risks. Who knew what was in that furnace? If it was some precious artifact like a vessel of yin and yang energy, being refined inside it would be fatal.

In a flash, Wukong used his ability to change his appearance and rushed to the edge of the curtain. He had already observed that these four men were highly skilled. If he fought them, it would be difficult for him. Moreover, the place wasn’t hidden, and causing a commotion to attract stronger enemies would be foolish. It was better to observe further before making a decision.

Seeing that the four men hadn’t moved for a long time, Wukong stepped out of the curtain and wandered around the palace.

Everyone inside was busy, seemingly preparing for some major event, with all kinds of festive items available. Strangely, after walking for about an hour, not a single person spoke. It seemed the rules here were strict, and no one dared to act recklessly.

Finding nothing, he returned to the curtain. The number of white threads inside hadn’t changed much, and the four men had stopped working and were sitting there chatting.

The man on the east side said, “We’ve put in so much effort. I wonder what reward the Emperor will give us?”

The man on the south side spoke in a shrill, mocking tone, “We’ve earned great merit this time. I’ll settle for a fiefdom spanning ten thousand miles.”

The man on the north side chuckled and said, “It would truly be a merit if those four female officials in the Emperor’s presence could be bestowed upon me.”
The man on the south side spat and said, “Dream on. Those female officials were personally appointed by the Jade Emperor—who would dare touch them?”
The man on the north side dismissed this, saying, “The ruler of the Guanghan Palace was also personally appointed by the Jade Emperor, yet she was still taken by force, didn’t she?”
The man on the west side exclaimed, “Is that really true?”
The man on the north side wore a strange smile and said, “How could there be any doubt? I saw with my own eyes Tian Peng coming out of the Guanghan Palace. When they parted, Chang’e was so reluctant, tears streaming down her face—it was truly heart-wrenching.”
The man on the west side pondered and said, “This must never be spoken of—be careful, for words can bring disaster!”
The man on the north side replied arrogantly, “Tian Peng is nothing special—how could he possibly interfere with what happens in my area?”