The Heavenly Court's Second Mobilization

The Heavenly Court had never been this quiet.

In the Lingxiao Palace, the civil and military officials stood in two rows, silent as the grave.

No one dared to look up at the Jade Emperor's expression—because the last person who had dared to do so had been dragged out and struck with three hundred bolts of heavenly lightning.

The Jade Emperor sat upon the Nine-Dragon Throne, one hand supporting his forehead, his eyes closed.

He had maintained this posture for the duration of an incense stick, neither speaking nor moving. Yet, everyone in the hall knew—the quieter he was, the more furious he became.

"So—" the Jade Emperor finally spoke, his voice unnaturally calm, "I gave you seven days—seven days—and what have you discovered?"

No one answered.

"Li Jing."

The Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King Li stepped out of the ranks and knelt on one knee. "Your servant is here, Your Majesty."

"You are the Grand Marshal of the Heavenly Court's armies. Seven days ago, I ordered you to devise a plan for the encirclement and suppression—have you finished it?"

Li Jing was silent for a moment. "I have."

"What is the plan?"

"Surround, but do not attack."

The Jade Emperor's eyes snapped open, his gaze falling upon Li Jing like a blade. "Say that again."

"Lingtai Square Inch Mountain is the dojo of Patriarch Bodhi. Although the Patriarch has lived in seclusion for many years, he was once at the peak of the Daluo Golden Immortal realm—if we attack by force, the casualties among the Heavenly Soldiers will be immeasurable. I suggest we surround and blockade the mountain—cut off their supplies and escape routes, and force them to come out on their own."

"Surround, but do not attack—" the Jade Emperor repeated these words slowly, then laughed—a laugh that sent a chill down everyone's spine. "Good. A fine 'surround, but do not attack.' Then let me ask you—the longer that boy from another world stays on Square Inch Mountain, the more his strength recovers—how long do you intend to keep the mountain surrounded? Until he learns all of Patriarch Bodhi's skills?"

Li Jing did not answer.

"Enough." The Jade Emperor stood up, descended from the Nine-Dragon Throne, and clapped his hands.

A man walked in from outside the hall—clad in silver armor, holding a Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear, with a third eye on his forehead. It was Erlang Shen, Yang Jian.

The Jade Emperor looked at Yang Jian and issued his order slowly: "Yang Jian—I appoint you as the vanguard for the crusade. Lead one thousand two hundred Grass-Head Gods and depart at daybreak tomorrow—your target is Lingtai Square Inch Mountain."

Yang Jian did not accept the order immediately. He looked up, his three eyes fixed on the Jade Emperor. "Your Majesty—what about Patriarch Bodhi—"

"I shall write a letter to Patriarch Bodhi myself." The Jade Emperor's voice was as cold as winter ice. "If he hands over the boy from the other world—Square Inch Mountain shall remain in peace. If he insists on protecting him—" The Jade Emperor did not finish his sentence. But everyone in the hall knew exactly what those unspoken words meant.

After the court was dismissed, Taibai Jinxing did not return to his own residence. He went to Li Jing's Marshal Mansion.

Li Jing sat in his study; the tea in the cup before him had already gone cold, but he did not replace it.

"The Marshal has not slept yet?" Taibai Jinxing stood at the doorway, not entering.

"I cannot sleep."

"Neither can I."

Taibai Jinxing walked in and sat down opposite Li Jing. He did not drink the tea, merely looking into Li Jing's eyes. "Marshal—do you believe the Jade Emperor can win?"

Li Jing's pupils contracted slightly. In the Heavenly Court, those who dared to ask such questions usually did not live to see the next day. He did not answer.

Taibai Jinxing pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and spread it out on the table. "I simply haven't been able to sleep these past few days, so I cast three divinations."

Li Jing looked down—three divination charts, each pointing to the same result. Ominous. Highly ominous. The most ominous of the ominous.

"The first divination was for Yang Jian's expedition." Taibai Jinxing pointed to the first one. "Ominous—the loss of a general. The second was for the Jade Emperor's decision—highly ominous—the loss of troops. The third—" he paused, "I calculated the fate of the Heavenly Court."

Li Jing's gaze was locked onto the third divination chart. "And the result?"

Taibai Jinxing did not answer. He gathered the three charts and tucked them back into his sleeve.

"Marshal—do you truly believe that boy from the other world only defeated Dhritarashtra and the Four Demon Kings because of good luck?"

Li Jing remained silent for a long time.

"Are you saying—"

"I said nothing at all." Taibai Jinxing stood up and walked to the door. "I only came to deliver these three charts to the Marshal. As for how you choose to handle them—that is not for me to say."

He left. Li Jing sat alone in his study, the tea before him completely cold.

Goten did not know how long he had been sitting under the waterfall.

His consciousness had become blurred under the impact of the water—not from unconsciousness, but a very peculiar state.

His body remained seated in place, but his perception had expanded to cover the entire pool. He could feel the trajectory of every single drop of water as it fell.

It wasn't by sight—it was felt by his body—the water landing on his head, his shoulders, his back, then sliding down his skin; every drop was different.

This feeling was strange—he had never experienced it in the Dragon Ball World.

"Ki" in the Dragon Ball World was an energy perception—you could sense how strong someone was, where they were, and if they held hostility.

But the "Primordial Energy" of this world was different—it was something deeper. It wasn't about strength or weakness—it was about existence itself.

The water continued to fall. The time for an incense stick had passed—he had not been washed away.

He opened his eyes and stood up, realizing he had sat for a full incense stick's duration. This was the first time.

"Not bad." Patriarch Bodhi's voice came from the shore. Goten turned his head—the Patriarch was standing under a willow tree, holding a gourd in his hand.

"Three days. It took you three days—to complete the path that Sun Wukong took three months to walk."

Goten climbed out of the pool, soaked to the bone, but his eyes shone like stars. "Really?"

"Really." Patriarch Bodhi tossed the gourd to him. "Take a sip."

Goten caught the gourd and opened the lid—a delicate fragrance wafted out.

He took a sip—a warm current flowed from his throat down to his dantian, then spread throughout his limbs and bones.

He had been pummeled by the waterfall for so long that he had felt as if his entire body was falling apart, but after this one sip, all his fatigue vanished completely.

"This is—"

"Spirit Mist Wine. It's ten times more concentrated than Spirit Mist Tea. You can handle it now."

Goten clenched his fist—the vital energy within him was more abundant than before.

He felt the Saiyan energy inside him and the vital energy of this world slowly establishing a connection—not one suppressing the other, but learning to coexist.

Goten crawled onto the bank, and Patriarch Bodhi handed him a dry cloth. As he wiped his hair, he suddenly asked a question that had been weighing on his heart for a long time.

"Old Master—when Sun Wukong left—why didn't you stop him?"

Patriarch Bodhi's hand paused in mid-air. He did not answer, but he did not walk away either.

He sat down on a rock by the shore, watching the waterfall, and remained silent for a long time. So long that Goten thought he wouldn't answer at all.