It wasn't long before the weight in Erlang's heart grew so heavy that he could no longer bear it. Even after having claimed the last secret relic from Wukong's dying body after defeating him, his next step in the plan was only a heartbeat away from completion, yet... he couldn't take it. Not yet. The burden on his shoulders felt as if the entire Heavens weighed upon him, and he sensed he had severed himself completely from his divinity, for he felt something forbidden in the Court: love.

More than a bond of brotherhood built over the years, he could never hide the fact that what he felt for Sun Wukong was love, and, above all, it was mutual. There was only one person in the entire world to whom Wukong could entrust his memories and identity, and contrary to what was believed, the Sacred Divinity had earned this privilege above all the sworn brothers of the Monkey King.

"Well, Erlang? The path is open to you," said Maitreya, extending his hand toward the passage.

Though this brought Erlang out of his train of thought, he still didn't dare take the first step to disappear. The Little Buddha turned to look at him with a curious smile, tilting his head.

"There's still something within your heart that you can't let go of, isn't there?"

"...I feel that...there's something I still need to do." It was all the god of the third eye could reply. Maitreya smiled softly and nodded, rubbing his belly.

"Ah...yes, the purest feeling a human can have, though it's forbidden in the Heavens. Even after all these centuries, you still cannot sever your earthly roots, and from what I see...you will keep living with them."

"Is that...wrong?"

"I never said it was," Maitreya shook his head and turned to face the inside of the Pagoda, where the red walls were still blank, waiting to be painted with the new adventures of the next Monkey King. "Mortals, Immortals...humans or gods, each of us has only one life, and although our spirit may reincarnate, it will never live the same life as before. You should think with a clear head, but whatever decision you make, never regret it. If you believe you still have something left to do out there..." Maitreya waved a hand, brushing his palm against the edge of the passage to seal it again, and the path to the mountain vanished, closing the sixth red mural once more. "You are free to go. The passage will always be open to you, my friend."

Erlang raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear that Buddha was understanding of his feelings for Wukong. Lowering his head to meet Buddha's gaze, he offered a slight smile and nodded gratefully. Without wasting more time, he turned his back on the mural and set off for that place where he had made so many mistakes and yet, discovered a beautiful part of himself.

***

One thing for which Erlang Shen was widely known was his connection to and deep appreciation for white plum trees. From his home by the River of Libations, to murals, tapestries, and even that solitary mountain, there was always at least one plum tree growing wherever he settled. He knew no deity would dare to do what he intended next—perhaps only the monkeys of Mount Huaguo might—but the weight in his heart...told him he had to.

Through a desolation scarred by his own actions and regrets, Erlang slowly made his way to the solitary egg-shaped rock where Sun Wukong's remains lay. No one else was around; the demigod had come alone. He couldn't take his eyes off the stone, and the pressure in his chest increased, feeling a deep pain he could not escape. Kneeling before the stone, he dared for the first time to place his hand on it. He had expected it to feel cold, devoid of any sign of life, but instead, he felt the opposite.

He sensed a mystical warmth within it, as if something inside resonated—not a body itself, but...a remnant. Strong and powerful enough to enclose a world within, the inner world of the Monkey King, a world that harked back to his origins as a simple stone monkey, born of Earth and Heaven... That world moved like a fetus in its mother's womb, or a beating heart, and Erlang could feel it...though his body was shattered, Wukong still lived, thanks to his spirit split into six parts.

Erlang lowered his head with a heavy sigh, letting his hand feel the stone's rough texture. Even for him, the future was now entirely uncertain. Wukong had made the biggest gamble of his life, and it was up to him to help him, but...could he really win it? Only time would tell.

"...I hope this works," he murmured quietly, reaching into the sleeve of his white robe and pulling out a small but beautifully delicate branch of white jade plum. Offering part of the jade tree from his home as tribute to the one he had once loved might seem outrageous and considered a sin against the Court, but Erlang ignored all of that, focusing solely on the weight now held by that branch placed on the Monkey King's stone—the only tribute Wukong's remains would have for a long time.

The god of the third eye stood without taking his eyes off the plum branch, lost in his own thoughts, so much so that...it took him a moment to notice that something was hitting his leg. Frowning, Erlang turned to see none other than...a small monkey from the mountain, very young, likely still in his first years of life. He was surprised at the audacity of this little one who dared to strike at the Sacred Divinity who had "killed" his king.

The small monkey punched and kicked Erlang's leg, growling and shouting. Dirty and with his clothes in tatters from surviving the massacre, the young monkey attacked with fury, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Die...die!!" he yelled in pain and anger.

Erlang hardened his expression and, with little effort, moved his leg enough to push the young monkey a few feet away. The small one rolled on the ground, further dirtying himself, but despite his clear difficulty moving from the pain, he managed to stand, gasping, trembling, with an expression Erlang could not forget. His whole face reflected one word: hatred. Pain, anger, but above all, hatred, that his beloved king had been slain, his people massacred without justification, his home reduced to a war-ravaged desolation.

The young monkey wiped the blood and dirt from his mouth, and with bright, hate-filled eyes, he raised his hand and pointed two fingers directly at Erlang's face—but the dark-haired god had the impression they were pointed at his third eye. He could hear a deep growl from the little one.

"Murderer!"

With just that word, Erlang felt a lurch in his heart. This young one was...identical to Sun Wukong. Not only in appearance from his younger days, but also in stance, attitude, the aura he emanated...he could sense a strong spirit, one that defied Heaven, the rules, in total favor of freedom—a word and ideology the Monkey King cherished above all. He still found it hard to believe the courage and insolence of this child for kicking him but sighed incredulously.

"I'm amazed by your audacity, kid...in all my years, no one like you would have dared kick me and not receive a death penalty for it." Despite this, the young one didn't move, nor did he lower his hand. Out of compassion, respect for the Monkey King's people, and admiration for the boy's courage, Erlang decided to forgive the offense.

The young one finally clenched his fist, baring his teeth, and with his free hand tried to wipe his tear-filled eyes without much success.

"Why...why did you have to do it?! He only wanted to return to us; why couldn't you leave him alone?!"

Erlang heard the broken voice of the child and softened his gaze, responding sadly, shaking his head.

"I only did what he wanted me to do... The world is not as simple as you think. Sun Wukong's fall was necessary...to give way to something much greater and to his true wish." Erlang paused as he saw the young one cover his eyes with his forearm, trembling as he sobbed, clearly holding back from breaking down.

The young monkey couldn't stop crying and tried with all his might not to burst into tears, yet he felt a shadow blocking the sunlight over him and looked up to see the god of the third eye a few steps away, their gazes meeting firmly.

"You have guts, young monkey. Perhaps...if you focus that courage on something more than just kicking a deity, you could go further than you think."

Despite his words, the young one remained completely silent, but his expression said it all. A piercing gaze filled with resentment and hatred not only toward Erlang but toward Heaven itself. With those dark eyes alone, the young one had declared war on the Court for its unforgivable sins. More than seeing any monkey in clothes, Erlang felt as though he was seeing a living echo of Wukong, challenging, kicking, and declaring a silent vengeance. He didn't understand why he saw it that way; perhaps he just needed more time...and he would understand.

Since then, not a single word would be heard from that young monkey.

***

After so many years hidden in solitude, upon receiving his first and only visit after five long centuries, Erlang finally understood. He could see and feel that same gaze with the strength of both past and present, piercing through him—not just with a burning desire for vengeance that had remained unbroken for generations, but with an indomitable determination, the intrinsic will to be fully reborn.

Erlang gripped his spear and returned the same hard stare to the Destined One standing before him, wielding the Jingubang and wearing the golden armor of his predecessor, embodying the very image of the Monkey King. Incomplete, for now... and though Erlang had no need to hold back against him, deep within, he yearned to see that monkey win the impending duel between them.

"Sun Wukong had no choice..."

Both the Destined One and Erlang brandished their weapons, and in the blink of an eye that cut through the air and sent snow flying, the two warriors charged at each other, their weapons colliding in a clash that had once battled before, inaugurating the climax of the Monkey King's final will.

"And neither did I."