Five hundred years had passed since he, Erlang Shen, had pierced Sun Wukong with his spear. He witnessed his fall, saw how his soul was divided into six relics that were given to the yaoguai kings across China, but he secretly requested one last piece of the Monkey King. A crucial one, without which Wukong's next reincarnation would not be complete. The part that held his true essence—his deeds, his accomplishments... his true legacy. His memories.

Not only because of the feelings he had for him but also to keep and protect the most precious thing for the monkey inside himself, never revealing it to anyone, and only handing them over to the one who truly deserved them, the rightful next reincarnation of the Monkey King. But until then, and because of the enduring pressure in his heart that he couldn't ignore since the battle, the presence of the Sacred Divinity simply... disappeared. Neither on Earth nor in the Celestial Court did anyone know his whereabouts for the following centuries, except for one person.

At the peak of his mountain, there was nothing more than a small temple, barely enough to spend the rest of his days in absolute silence, meditating, and trying to clear his thoughts and feelings that, with each passing day, would not let him be at peace. At least, Xiaotian Quan, his dog, never left his side, being his faithful companion during those centuries when he isolated himself by his own will—not without first placing a branch of white plum jade on the stone where Sun Wukong's last remains lay.

Time was frozen on that mountain. It never dawned, never darkened, and there was not even a sunset. There were no storms; the snow remained in a constant state of calm and silence, obeying his will over the cliff, and the sun always stayed in the same position, casting a white light through the clouds, and though it illuminated the horizon, it gave no warmth.

No matter how much Erlang meditated sitting on the cliff behind the temple or in the middle of the snow-covered clearing, his mind could not remain silent for more than three seconds, thanks to... him. So many accumulated centuries, so many deeds, adventures, lines, voices, feelings... memory was not just a concept of recollection but embraced everything a living being is, the experiences gained throughout life, the formation of identity—in this case, the Monkey King's identity—lived within his head. It was too much noise... sometimes he could control it and lead it to concrete moments of silence within Wukong's memories, but other times... it was simply chaotic, disordered, and he barely had a chance to silence it, or sometimes couldn't at all.

As a result, Erlang often saw Wukong in his dreams, a reminiscence of him, or at least a reference, no matter how subtle it was; the black-haired god could perceive it. So instead of sleeping, he now resorted to long days immersed in deep meditation, trying to avoid seeing the monkey in his subconscious. Since moving to that mountain, Erlang had barely touched his spear because the solution to this conflict wasn't through weapons, but in having the virtue of the slowest patience. Not even he knew how long he would remain this way, exiled by his own will, with only the Monkey King's memories. Perhaps it would be forever... but deep within, there was hope that someone might reach him, earn the memories, and continue Sun Wukong's legacy.

But the days turned into weeks, months, years, decades, and centuries... the silence remained exactly the same. A part of Erlang had started to believe that he would remain there, guarding the last piece of Wukong on the mountain for all eternity, with only his dog Quan for company. But... if he had learned anything from the Monkey King's companionship, it was that... he should always expect the unexpected.

That day, seated cross-legged on a soft black silk cushion, he was meditating at the cliff's edge, behind the temple. His body didn't move a single millimeter except for his jet-black hair, swayed by the cold breeze, and once again, he tried to organize the Monkey King's thoughts amid the chaos, though there was little he could do about it. Footsteps interrupted the mountain's silence, and Erlang immediately recognized Xiaotian Quan's paws on the stone floor as he approached, but for some reason, he felt a... different air around him, something unsettling, so he exhaled deeply one last time before opening his eyes and turning his head toward his faithful companion, who whined softly and fidgeted impatiently.

"Quan... what is it?" he asked, turning his torso to face him, and in response, the black dog barked, followed by more whining, pointing with his head toward the snow-covered clearing at the foot of the temple, as if showing him something.

Erlang's gaze hardened, and he took his spear, rising to follow the dog. He knelt to pet his head to calm him.

"Easy..." he murmured in a gentle tone, though inside, he felt anything but calm; he was tense. He stood up, following his dog, who led him to the wide clearing covered in white snow, where only their old campfire remained. Under normal circumstances, only those piled pieces of wood would be there, but this time... a very familiar figure stood in the center of the clearing.

That silhouette... those long phoenix feathers atop the head... that shining golden armor, and above all... that long iron staff that could be spotted from any distance. Erlang's soul sank the moment he recognized the figure he hadn't seen in over five hundred years, and his grip on the spear tightened.

It was simply impossible. Sun Wukong could not return from death, not without his memories, which Erlang held within him. But his eyes weren't deceiving him. With a very serious expression, he slowly descended the temple's steps until he reached the clearing, never taking his eyes off the monkey standing before him. But something that began to cast doubt in his mind was that there were no footprints in the clearing, no trace of any mortal or immortal setting foot on the mountain, leaving him with only one theory...

The monkey moved his staff to rest it on his shoulders, then draped his wrists over it. It was a gesture only Sun Wukong ever made, and he began taking steps toward the three-eyed god. Once again, his steps left no footprints in the snow.

"Erlang Shen... it's been a long time."

But Erlang still had to process his shock, so ignoring his agitated breathing, he pressed the spear into the ground, clearly unsettled.

"It's impossible... for you to be here right now."

"That's because I'm not Sun Wukong! Well, not 'complete,' so to speak," the Monkey King replied, now walking as if to circle around him.

"Then... you are..."

"His reminiscence, yes," Wukong finished the sentence for him, and they stopped, face-to-face, just a few meters apart. A smile crept onto Wukong's lips. "Stripped of my body and senses... I'm just a ghost from the past, or whatever you want to call me, but I am tied to you."

That answer only confused Erlang further. He frowned, trying to find an explanation, but for now, there was nothing he could think of that would explain why or how this was happening.

"How is it possible that... his memories are manifesting in a body? In these five hundred years that have passed, nothing like this has happened before..."

Wukong shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know! But here I am, Yang Jian." The Monkey King moved closer to the black-haired god, and although he didn't move, his body was incredibly tense. They stared into each other's eyes, and Wukong chuckled. "You have no idea how much it fills me with joy... to see you again."

Erlang's heart skipped painfully, and the grip on his spear softened until he finally released it. They were getting closer by the moment. Erlang could now discern in more detail the slightly translucent body Wukong had, but in appearance and essence... he was the same rebellious monkey as always. Wukong lowered the staff from his shoulders, and when they were just inches apart, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Erlang's, mainly to feel the third eye of the god, to feel him, and... to feel himself. Erlang also closed his eyes, sensing the touch of the monkey's forehead against his own, something he considered impossible since Wukong was only a ghost, memories condensed into a figure, yet at the same time, he felt so real...

Slowly, Erlang moved his hand to try and grasp Wukong's, wanting to know if, like his forehead, he could feel the rest of his body. Though it took them some effort to materialize the sensation, they managed to intertwine their fingers in a warm grip. The pressure in Erlang's chest intensified, and he couldn't help but let out a shaky breath as he reencountered feelings he thought he had forgotten. Unintentionally, he tightened his grip on Wukong's hand, so much that the Monkey King let out a soft chuckle.

"Heh, easy there~... As long as you keep me in your third eye, I won't go anywhere. And when the time comes... you will see a new version of me," Wukong assured him, pulling away from the touch, and his hand simply passed through Erlang's, causing him to close his fist out of instinct. Wukong continued walking up the steps, and Erlang turned fully to watch him go, hurrying to walk beside him.

"...Do you really think your plan will work?" Erlang asked as they circled the small temple to reach the back.

"Of course. When have I ever failed in my plans?" Wukong responded with a confident grin, and although he received no reply, he looked out at the snowy horizon, placing a hand over his chest. "I trust my people... and I'm grateful that you've been merciful to some. The day will come when finally... not only will my complete spirit be reborn, but I will also be free."

The two warriors stopped at the cliff's edge, exactly where Erlang had been meditating some time ago.

"...When you became a Buddha, you were already granted the freedom you wanted, Wukong..."

"Please, don't lie to my face," the Monkey King interrupted, shaking his head and sighing heavily. "Even if I don't have it in my mind... that damn crown has my heart imprisoned, my spirit... That old body would always be bound to submit to Buddha and the Celestial Court. All I ever wanted was to return to the mountain and finally live... in peace. But of course, none of them up there agreed with my happiness. And that's why... they sent you and those kings to kill my people."

Erlang could sense the resentment and pain in Wukong's words and turned his head away. He knew that simply saying "sorry" wouldn't undo what had been done, but deep down, he did feel regret. Wukong also sighed, throwing his head back.

"In any case... everything is going according to plan. Only this way will I achieve true freedom. Immortality isn't just tied to a body that never dies but also to the spirit. If all the pieces come together in the end... you will see my reincarnation, free from any bonds."

Erlang turned to look at him, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes but also uncertainty.

"So... that's why you've only just now awakened, and... I can see you again."

Wukong nodded with a smile, gazing at the mountains and resting his staff on the ground. "That's right~ 'He' is coming. I can feel my body, my eyes, my ears, and my nose in one place, and they're getting closer. And... my mind, too. I beg you, Yang Jian, not to hold back. Only the one who can unleash all your potential in battle deserves my memories," Wukong requested, turning his head to glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

Erlang met the Monkey King's gaze and nodded. "I promise you."

"Good. But even so... I have faith in him. He has been dormant for so many years... it's time to act. And finally, you too will be free."

"Free...?"

Wukong turned to him, a soft smile on his lips. "Not just free from this mountain you exiled yourself to... but also free," he paused to place a hand on Erlang's chest, "from what you feel here."

Erlang felt that touch as strongly and as real as if the Sun Wukong who once lived and loved were standing there with him, and he placed his own hand over his chest to feel it. But suddenly, he felt Wukong's fingers holding his chin, their warm breaths mingling, and finally, their lips met in a kiss. Erlang closed his eyes with pain on his face, but it wasn't physical; it was something much deeper, something he evidently hadn't been able to overcome in all these centuries.

"Trust me..." he could hear Wukong say in his mind as they remained connected by the kiss. The moment Erlang clutched his chest with his hand and opened his eyes, the warmth of Wukong's presence—his reminiscence—disappeared. Once again, he was alone on the same meditation cliff, embraced by a cold breeze. Erlang let out a deep sigh, which formed a cloud of mist in the air, lowering his head, and in the absence of the Monkey King, he nodded to his final request, leaving everything in his hands.

***

"...I can finally sense a completeness in you, monkey."

Erlang allowed himself to turn his head after taking a good inhale of the fresh, pure, and renewed air that Huaguo Mountain gave off, facing once again that young monkey who had reached the end of an old friend's journey, and began his own story as the new Monkey King.

The Destined One didn't respond, but he lowered his gaze to the side, as if with just his expressions, he wanted to convey what he couldn't say. Seeing this, Erlang chuckled softly and turned toward him.

"Thank you for the visit, despite everything that happened before this. If you don't mind... I'd like to stay on this mountain a little longer. It brings back old memories... and you can be sure that, from me, this place will suffer no further harm."

Erlang noticed a trace of relief in the Destined One's face under that stoic expression, and the other nodded, allowing him to stay. Erlang smiled gently, returning the gesture, and looked out at the vast horizon once again.

"Sun Wukong's story is already sealed, but from now on... you will begin writing your own. I don't know what fate awaits you beyond the mountain, but... if it gives you any comfort, you have an ally here, should any problems arise that you can't solve on your own." Erlang paused as he heard footsteps approaching him, and turning again, he found the Destined One just a few feet from him. It was like looking directly into Sun Wukong's face, but reborn in full... just as he had promised. The Destined One extended his hand toward the black-haired god, waiting for him to shake it. Determination for a new chapter in life was reflected in his eyes. Erlang wasted no time in taking it and squeezing it in a pact, a new promise.

"Hold your new name high, Destined One, and honor the one who came before you." The young monkey nodded slightly, and that was enough for Erlang to feel at peace. After they parted, Erlang Shen raised his head to watch the Monkey King's reincarnation soar through the sky on the white cloud, accompanied by a darker cloud, until they finally disappeared from view.