Zixia Awakens

When Fairy Zixia opened her eyes, what she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.

It was not the jade canopy of the Heavenly Court, nor the wooden beams of the mortal realm—it was an entire, naturally formed rock dome, covered in fine golden veins that flowed slowly in the dim light like the capillaries of a leaf.

The air held a faint scent of herbs, mingled with the crisp, clean fragrance unique to the mountains in the morning.

She moved her right hand—a dull ache radiated from her shoulder, but the tearing sensation of a puncture wound was gone.

The wound had been sealed by some power, leaving only the itch of active healing.

She looked down—she had been changed into clean white linen robes, and her purple gauze dress was folded neatly by the pillow. The wound on her shoulder was covered by a ring of golden runes, as delicate as embroidery.

"Awake?" A voice came from the bedside, carrying the nasal tone of someone just roused from sleep.

Zixia turned her head—Goten was slumped over the edge of her bed, his face pillowed on his arms, his eyes not yet fully open, his hair a mess. He had clearly been keeping watch here until he fell asleep.

"You—"

"What about me?" Goten rubbed his eyes and yawned. "You were unconscious for three days, and I've been guarding you for three days."

Zixia was stunned. "Three days? You—didn't you go to practice?"

"Patriarch Bodhi said to wait until you woke up before talking about that." Goten stretched. "He said there's no rush for cultivation—you're more important."

Zixia did not speak. She looked at Goten's still-sleepy face and remembered three days ago—the figure of the boy sprinting wildly through the desert with her on his back.

Her consciousness had been blurred then, but she remembered his body temperature—scorching, burning like a ball of fire.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Goten paused, scratching his head in embarrassment. "You were injured because you saved me—I'm the one who should be saying thank you."

Zixia smiled—it was the first time she had shown a truly relaxed smile since arriving in this world.

Breakfast was made by Sha Wujing. Porridge, pickled vegetables, and steamed buns. Simple to the point of austerity.

Yet Goten ate five bowls.

"Are you a reincarnated starving ghost?" Zhu Bajie stared at him with wide eyes.

"Saiyans just have this kind of appetite," Goten said, his mouth stuffed with a bun, speaking indistinctly. "My dad can eat a dozen portions in one sitting."

Zhu Bajie lay on a rocking chair in the courtyard, squinting at the clouds in the sky with a blade of grass hanging from his mouth.

These were the most comfortable three days he had spent since descending to the mortal realm. He spoke lazily, "Old Sha—what level do you think this Goten can reach?"

Sha Wujing was chopping wood and did not look up. "Hard to say."

"Why do I feel like this kid isn't right? He has a feeling about him that's just like Sun Wukong."

Sha Wujing stopped his axe, remained silent for three seconds, and then uttered the longest six words he had spoken since moving into Lingtai Square Inch Mountain: "You felt it too?"

Zhu Bajie did not answer. But he understood in his heart—Sha Wujing never spoke nonsense. If he had opened his mouth, it was definitely something he had been thinking about for a long time.

Zixia sat at the table, sipping her porridge in small mouthfuls. Her complexion had largely recovered, and although her movements were still a bit sluggish, she was doing much better than three days ago.

Zhu Bajie leaned over and whispered, "Fairy Zixia—what about the Heavenly Court—what will you do now?"

The table went quiet for a moment. Zixia set down her bowl. "The Heavenly Court will never accept me again."

"Isn't that just perfect?" Goten swallowed his bun and laughed. "We're short on people here anyway."

Zixia looked at him and couldn't help but laugh. "You guys? When did you start an organization?"

"Well—I just thought of it." Goten counted on his fingers. "Me, you, Zhi Zun Bao—"

"Don't count me in," Zhi Zun Bao said as he walked past with a bowl. "I'm a bandit leader, not a savior."

"You've already been possessed by Sun Wukong, and you're still calling yourself a bandit leader?"

"Possession is possession; I am me."

"Fine, fine—then can you pass me that bun?"

Zhi Zun Bao tossed the bun over, and Goten caught it and shoved it into his mouth.

Watching them bicker, a warmth she couldn't describe welled up in Zixia's heart.

For five hundred years, she had been alone—searching for Sun Wukong, waiting for Sun Wukong, looking for the one who could draw the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword—but she had never had a "group." And now, she did.

As breakfast was nearly finished, Zixia asked a question: "Goten—where are we exactly?"

"Lingtai Square Inch Mountain, Slanted Moon Three Star Cave."

Zixia's hand froze in mid-air. Her pupils contracted slightly. "Lingtai Square Inch Mountain..."

"What's wrong?"

Zixia put down her bowl and looked toward the distant mountains outside the gate. "Sun Wukong—he learned his skills right here."

Zixia and Goten sat on the stone steps in front of the mountain gate.

The distant mountains were layered and overlapping, while closer by, the vegetable patches and the busy figures of the young acolytes could be seen. The sun was pleasant, neither too hot nor too cold, and a breeze blowing across the vegetable patch carried the scent of soil mixed with greens.

Zhi Zun Bao stood in the corner of the courtyard with a bamboo pole standing upright in front of him.

He picked up the pole and swung it casually—the bamboo traced an arc in the air, naturally rotating around his wrist.

He stopped and looked at the pole in his hand—the bamboo had grown hot from his grip. He set the pole down and walked away, but after two steps, he stopped and looked back at it once more.

The bamboo pole leaned quietly against the corner of the wall, as if waiting for him.

"Nothing here has changed—not even a bit from five hundred years ago," Zixia said softly.

Goten turned his head to look at her. "You've been here before?"

"No," Zixia shook her head. "But Sun Wukong described it to me. He said that where his master lived, the vegetable patch was planted with radishes and green beans. He said his master didn't care for pomp and preferred simplicity."

"Then what kind of person was Sun Wukong?"

Zixia did not answer immediately. She looked toward the distant mountains and remained silent for a long time. "He was the proudest person I have ever met—and also the loneliest."