Wukong stood where he was, looking at Mao Ying.
A trace of weariness lay hidden in his eyes.
But he stood ramrod straight.
"If my master hadn't used his merit to win me this chance, even if Old Sun threw his life into it, the Heavenly Dao wouldn't spare me the slightest notice."
Wukong grinned. His smile seemed just as it had before, yet somehow different.
"Besides, I was the one who caused this disaster back then. Making amends now is only right. What's this talk of a winner?"
He casually rested the Golden Cudgel on his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Mao Ying.
"Still, I wouldn't say I lost, either."
Mao Ying looked at the monkey before him.
After his bestowed title and Immortal Register had been revoked, not only had his cultivation not fallen, nor had he collapsed into despair-
Instead, he had washed away all worldly adornment. His old edge remained undiminished, yet he had gained a clarity and purity of spirit.
Was this what it meant to be favored by the Heavenly Dao?
Had the heavenly register immortal roster actually been a fetter to him?
Truly impossible to fathom.
The Great Mao Lord shook his head slightly.
Then he gently flicked his Fly-Whisk, nodded to Wukong, and said:
"You are right, Great Sage."
"The victory or defeat in this round is not for the two of us to decide."
"We must see how the Holy Monk and the others judge it."
As his words fell,
the Fly-Whisk in his hand trembled lightly.
The whole of Flower-Fruit Mountain instantly broke apart like clouds of smoke scattered by a gale.
The scorched earth, dead trees, Water Curtain Cave, and all the lingering gloom turned into gray-white mist and dispersed above the white jade arena.
The white jade