Beneath the Flowing Sand River

The Flowing Sand River was far quieter than Goten had imagined.

There were no raging waves, no rushing currents—the entire river lay like a massive black mirror across the end of the Gobi Desert.

Not a ripple disturbed its surface. Not even the wind could move it.

Zhu Bajie stood on the shore, his face graver than Goten had ever seen. The last time he had stood here—he had not yet been Zhu Bajie. He had been Marshal Tianpeng.

That had been the first day after he was banished to the mortal realm. He had fallen from the heavens and into this river.

"Weak Water." Zhu Bajie spoke, his voice dry. "A goose feather cannot float upon it; reed fluff sinks straight to the bottom. It is the heaviest water in the Three Realms—not because of its density, but because it absorbs all life force."

Zhi Zun Bao picked up a dead leaf and tossed it into the river. The instant it touched the surface—there was no floating, no sinking. It simply vanished.

It had not sunk—it had been swallowed by the surface, without leaving even a bubble behind.

"The fragment is in there?" Goten asked.

Zhu Bajie nodded. "At the bottom of the river. Back when Sun Wukong crossed the Flowing Sand River—he snapped off a small piece of the Golden Cudgel and drove that fragment deep into the riverbed. The Golden Cudgel was still whole then—when he broke off that piece, I asked him why. He said, 'Leave a marker for those who come after.'"

Goten's hand tightened slightly around the fragment.

Sun Wukong—while traveling west in the world of A Chinese Odyssey, he had already been paving the way for Goten.

"Why?"

"Because—something living at the bottom of the river wants the Golden Cudgel too."

Goten opened his palm. The Golden Cudgel fragment pointed toward the river's surface—trembling faintly, as though calling for an inheritance ordained by fate.

It was not confirming the direction—it was warning him.

"I have to go down."

"You'll die." Zhu Bajie crouched down. "The Weak Water absorbs the Origin Energy inside you—with every moment you remain in it, another portion of your strength will be drained away. No one can stay in Weak Water for longer than an incense stick's time—not even Sun Wukong back then."

Goten clenched the fragment and felt the warmth it gave off—not a warning, but a summons. It was waiting for him at the bottom of the river.

"One incense stick's time is enough."

Goten took off Sun Wukong's old Daoist robe, folded it neatly, and placed it on the shore. Then he walked up to Zixia and handed her the Violet-Azure Treasure Sword. "Hold this for me. It isn't suited for going underwater."

Zixia accepted the sword and looked at him.

She wanted to say so many things—don't go, it's too dangerous, let's find another way—but she knew Goten well enough to know that saying any of it would be useless. "One incense stick's time. If you're not back by then, I'm going in to drag you out."

Goten grinned—not out of confidence, but calm acceptance. That acceptance itself was a kind of awakening. "If I don't make it back, go to Lingtai Square Inch Mountain and tell Patriarch Bodhi that I promised I'd return, but failed to keep my word."

He turned—drew a deep breath, and jumped into the Flowing Sand River. There was no splash.

The black surface silently swallowed him whole.

The world beneath the water was far more terrifying than Goten had imagined.

It was not darkness—darkness was not frightening. He had experienced the void of space in the Dragon Ball World.

What was terrifying was—he could not feel his own energy. Weak Water wrapped around his entire body like countless tiny hands, absorbing every trace of energy within him.

His Origin Energy was being drained away, his Saiyan energy was being drained away—even his body heat was fading.

He opened his eyes—the Weak Water did not sting them, and he could see a tiny point of Golden light flickering on the riverbed. A Golden Cudgel fragment. It was right there.

He kicked hard through the water—but the Weak Water was too thick. Every stroke took ten times more effort than usual.

He had swum less than three zhang, yet the energy he had spent already matched what it took to fight an entire battle in the Dragon Ball World.

He wanted to breathe—but reason told him he could not breathe underwater, especially beneath Weak Water. One mouthful of it, and his lungs would dissolve on the spot.

He held his breath and continued diving. Five zhang. Ten zhang. Fifteen zhang. His consciousness began to blur—not from lack of oxygen, but because Weak Water was draining his life force. He had felt a similar threat in the Dragon Ball World—when there was no air inside Frieza's spaceship, he had endured for a long time with his Saiyan physique. But Weak Water was more terrifying than vacuum—vacuum merely lacked oxygen, while Weak Water actively sucked strength from your body.

His hands began to go numb. That point of Golden light before his eyes—was getting closer and closer.

But he could no longer swim. His body—was already beyond the control of his mind. Wrapped in Weak Water, it began to drift through the current.

Just then—from a forgotten corner deep inside him, the blood-red aura that had burned during the battle against the Four Demon Kings flickered faintly.

Goten had not activated it himself—it was a Saiyan's instinct when facing death, awakening on its own when it sensed its host was about to die.

A faint layer of Golden light stained the edges of Goten's pupils. His body—moved. Not through muscle, but through an energy that erupted from deep within him, exploding through the Weak Water.

That was the power to break past one's limits at the brink of death!

Boom!

A column of water exploded into the sky above the river. Zhu Bajie was splashed across the face with Weak Water and sprang to his feet in shock. "This kid—did he just let out a huge fart in the Weak Water?!"

Goten's hand—touched the Golden Cudgel fragment on the riverbed.

He did not grasp it—the fragment flew into his hand by itself.

The instant the fragment touched his palm—a tremendous power surged into his body. It was no longer the trickle supplied by the previous small fragment, but a raging flood—the true power of the Golden Cudgel.

His consciousness was pulled into a scene. It was not a memory—it was a battle.

He stood before a shattered palace—South Heaven Gate, though half of it had already collapsed.

He looked down at his hands—they were furry, covered in Golden monkey hair.

He wore battered Chainmail Armor, with a Purple Gold Crown tilted to one side. In his hand was a radiant Golden staff—Ruyi Jingu Bang.

This was Sun Wukong's memory—the battle at the very peak of his Havoc in Heaven.

Goten experienced Sun Wukong's battle from a first-person perspective—he was not watching it. He was fighting with Sun Wukong's body.

He swung his staff—and shattered a mountain peak.

He turned—and kicked a Golden-armored heavenly general flying.

He roared—and sent hundreds of Heavenly Soldiers reeling back.

That power—unreasonable, lawless power—was flowing into his body through the fragment.

Then the scene changed.

He still gripped the Golden Cudgel—but the Chainmail Armor on his body had become a cassock.

He stood beside a black river—the Flowing Sand River.

A massive figure rose from the water—its entire body covered in black scales, its eyes blood-red. It was a demonic beast that had been suppressed beneath the Flowing Sand River for five hundred years. He heard himself speak—Sun Wukong's voice, low and imposing.

"I, Old Sun, won't kill you—but remember this. One day, someone will come in Old Sun's place to take away what is pressing down on you. By then—you'd better have learned how to be a good demon."

The scene faded.

Goten opened his eyes—only to find himself standing on the riverbed.

Not standing—floating. A layer of Golden aura supported his feet, and his energy kept the Weak Water a foot away from his body. This was a breakthrough in his Saiyan physique.

The two fragments in his palm automatically fused together—becoming a larger fragment.

Then the enormous black shadow above the riverbed—moved.