Under Five Finger Mountain

The next day, before dawn, Goten woke up.

He wasn't woken by light—he was woken by the vibrations beneath his feet.

The vibrations were faint, so faint that if he hadn't already established a connection with the Golden Cudgel, he wouldn't have felt them at all—like a heart beating deep beneath his soles.

He rolled over and sat up, finding Zhi Zun Bao already awake.

Zhi Zun Bao sat by the dying embers of the fire, clutching the wooden stick in his hand, gazing into the distance. Following his line of sight, Five Finger Mountain revealed its complete silhouette in the morning light.

Five colossal stone fingers erupted from the earth, piercing the clouds.

The knuckles were distinct, even the patterns on them were clearly visible—not a natural mountain range, but the mark left by Tathagata's palm.

Goten stood up, slung the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword over his shoulder, and began to walk towards the mountain.

No one spoke, because the mountain itself rendered speech impossible.

After about an hour's walk, the mountain path grew steeper—not naturally steep, but fractured.

The ground was covered in a network of cracks—as if something had repeatedly impacted it from below. Goten squatted down and touched the fissures—they were deep, bottomless.

"It was Sun Wukong," Zixia's voice came from behind. "When he was suppressed beneath the mountain, he was constantly trying to pry it open."

Goten placed his hand on the edge of a crack—the mark left by five hundred years of impact—that man had never given up. He stood up and continued walking, his steps a little faster than before.

Five Finger Mountain was much larger than it appeared from afar.

Only upon approaching did he realize—each stone finger was hundreds of zhang high, and the mountain body was covered in a layer of dark red runes—Tathagata's seal.

The runes glowed faintly in the sunlight, as if breathing like living creatures.

Goten stood at the foot of the mountain, looking up at the runes—he could feel the power of the seal, vast and cold—like an entire ocean compressed into a thin film covering the mountain.

Zhi Zun Bao walked to a protruding rock at the foot of the mountain and stopped.

There was a faint handprint on the rock's surface, about the size of an adult's palm. As if possessed, he placed his own hand there—it fit perfectly.

"This... was left by your past life," Zixia answered for him. "You said goodbye to him here. You placed your hand on this stone and said—I'll wait for you to come back."

Zhi Zun Bao looked down at the handprint—five hundred years ago, he had waited here for someone to return.

That person never came back. He withdrew his hand and gently brushed away the dirt beside the handprint—not to erase it, but to make it clearer.

Goten walked to the mountain body, placed his hands on the stone wall, and closed his eyes.

First, he felt the runes—a cold and solid power, like countless layers of chains wrapped around the entire mountain.

Then, he passed through the runes and felt the inside—the Golden Cudgel was within.

He could hear its voice now—not a heartbeat, but breathing. The Golden Cudgel was breathing—at the same frequency as him—a trust that transcended life and death.

He opened his eyes and lowered his hands. "It's inside—but it's encased by the seal."

He placed his hands on it again—this time not to sense, but to inject Origin Energy.

The Origin Energy passed through the runes and seeped into the mountain, advancing towards the Golden Cudgel—extremely slowly. The runes repelled his Origin Energy—like a living barrier recognizing the intrusion of foreign matter—a backlash of power struck back, pushing him back three or four steps.

"Something is blocking me."

Zhu Bajie squatted behind a rock, drawing circles on the ground with his rake.

Sha Wujing stood not far away, watching him draw circles. After a long time, he spoke, "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking—does Tathagata even know we're here."

He knows. Zixia's voice came from the side—she walked to the mountain wall, tilting her head up to look at the runes. "Not only does he know—he might have been waiting for us to come."

After Sun Wukong died, Tathagata seemed to have won, but he lost absolute control over the Three Realms.

The Heavenly Court began to doubt him, the Underworld grew distant, and even within Buddhism, some people disagreed with his actions.

He needed a reason to prove that "doing so was right"—and Goten's appearance was that reason.

"If Goten can pull out the Golden Cudgel—it will prove that Sun Wukong's choice was right. If he can't—it will prove that Sun Wukong was wrong."

Zhi Zun Bao fell silent.

He looked up at the five colossal stone fingers—Tathagata's seal wasn't just to suppress the Golden Cudgel—it was a test.

Goten stood before the mountain wall, his eyes closed—Origin Energy was clashing with the final layer of runes.

Then he discovered it—there was a crack inside the runes.

It wasn't made by him—it was left by Sun Wukong's relentless impact on the seal day after day, five hundred years ago—a crack as fine as a hair—a trace left by an unyielding will that spanned five hundred years. That crack—was the answer.

Goten opened his eyes and withdrew his hands. "It will take time—but I know what to do now."

He walked to the rock with the handprint and sat down beside it—not giving up, but changing his approach.

He no longer used Origin Energy to forcefully break through the runes—he began to wrap his Origin Energy around the crack left by Sun Wukong, slowly widening it—like using water to scour a stone crevice.

Zixia watched him do all this and suddenly felt a sense of familiarity—Sun Wukong had done the same thing back then.

If the hard way didn't work, try the soft way; if the direct way didn't work, try the indirect way. Those who called him a brute simply didn't understand him.

Zhu Bajie stopped drawing circles, stood up, and walked to Goten's side, squatting down. "Kid—I'll tell you a secret."

Goten didn't open his eyes, but his movements didn't stop. "The door I saw at the bottom of the Heavenly River before I was banished to the mortal world—it's directly beneath this mountain."

Goten opened his eyes.

"You mean—"

"Five Finger Mountain isn't just the place where the Golden Cudgel is suppressed—it's a lock. It locks the gate at the bottom of the Heavenly River."

"Who locked it?"

Zhu Bajie remained silent for a long time. "Tathagata."

The entire place fell silent. A mountain—locking a gate. Behind that gate—lay something from beyond the Three Realms.

Goten closed his eyes again, the speed at which his Origin Energy scoured the crack—doubling compared to before.

By dusk, the shadow of Five Finger Mountain covered the entire Gobi Desert.

Goten was still scouring the crack—fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead, but his hands remained steady.

Zhi Zun Bao walked up to the cliff face and pressed his palm against the stone surface.

He wasn't trying to help break the seal—he wanted to establish a connection with the mountain—to know what the man who shared his name five hundred years ago was thinking when he was pinned here.

He rested his forehead against the stone and closed his eyes—after a long, long time—he heard it.

It wasn't a sound—it was a feeling—the loneliness of that man. Every day and every night—the massive boulder pressing down on his body—unable to move, unable to walk, unable to lift his head—only that tiny patch of sky above.

No one came to save him. Five hundred years.

He spoke—his voice very low, so low that only the stone wall could hear—"He didn't forget you. He came to see you before he left." A low, deep hum resonated faintly from deep within the stone wall—as if in response.

In the distance, the setting sun dyed the five stone fingers a dark red. Goten was still scouring the crack.

When night fell, Goten opened his eyes and looked at his hands—his fingertips glowing faintly—a true breakthrough was occurring.

That crack—was a tiny bit wider than when he had discovered it that morning.

And something sleeping deep within Five Finger Mountain—slowly opened its eyes in the darkness.

Zhi Zun Bao was still standing before the cliff, his hand still pressed against the stone surface.

He felt something deep within the mountain vibrating—in sync with his own heartbeat.

He didn't know what it was—but he felt it wasn't rejection—but a test.

It was as if something were asking him—are you ready? He didn't know if he was ready—but he did not move his hand away.

Five Finger Mountain shimmered with a dark red light under the moonlight—as if something were deep within the mountain—slowly opening its eyes...