The air in the Jade Court was frigid, but it was not the celestial mist — it was the tension. Seven months had passed since the Song Dynasty began its earthly reign and in that time, a new golden light had appeared on Flower Fruit Mountain: Sun Taiyang.
Li Jing stood at the center of the hall, his Pagoda gleaming with a cold, metallic light. Beside him, Erlang Shen remained stoic, his third eye flickering with a judgmental spark.
Li Jing: "The child is a stone-born anomaly merged with shadow. We saw what the father did to the Pillars of Heaven. To allow a second Great Sage to grow — one with the combined power of the Macaque — is to invite a second Havoc. We must...extinguish the spark before it becomes a forest fire."
Li Nezha: (His grip tightening on his Fire-Tipped Spear until the metal groaned) "You mean murder him. Say the word, Father. You want to kill an infant."
The Third Lotus Prince’s eyes were blown wide, his breathing shallow. The suggestion had triggered a jagged, red-hot memory: the shadow of the Pagoda looming over him, the feeling of his own father’s blade, the cold rejection of his own flesh and blood.
Li Nezha: (Voice trembling with rage) "If you so much as look toward Flower Fruit Mountain with a weapon in your hand, I will tear that Pagoda from your grip and bury you under it. I am not that helpless babe anymore and Wukong is not a monk who will preach mercy to you."
Chang’e: (Gasped, clutching her robes) "He is seven months old! He has done nothing but sleep and breathe!"
Laozi: (Shaking his head in disgust) "I helped the parents of that boy learn of him. I felt his spirit. He is a marvel of the cosmos, not a weapon for you to fear, Pagoda Bearer."
The atmosphere shifted. The light in the room turned a blinding, heavy gold. The Great Buddha appeared, flanked by a stern Guanyin. The Bodhisattva’s usual serenity was replaced by a sharp, cutting disappointment.
Guanyin: "Li Jing. Erlang Shen. You speak of 'order' while plotting the slaughter of innocence. You have forgotten that the Great Sage walked the path of the Sutras. To strike his son is to strike the path itself."
The Buddha: (His voice did not rise, but the floor of the Heavens vibrated with the weight of his words) "Generals. You believe power gives you the right to dictate fate."
The Buddha leaned forward, his eyes like twin suns.
The Buddha: "Let me be clear. If either of you sets foot upon the mountain with ill intent toward Sun Taiyang, I shall not imprison you under a mountain. I shall strip the divinity from your bones and turn you into caecilians — blind, limbless creatures of the mud, destined to squirm in the dark for ten thousand kalpas. Do I make myself understood?"
The silence that followed was absolute. Li Jing turned pale, his hand trembling against his Pagoda. Erlang Shen bowed his head, the third eye snapping shut in submission.
Millions of miles below, far from the threats of kings and gods, the Water Curtain Cave was silent save for the sound of the waterfall.
The bed was a chaotic nest of silk sheets and soft fur. Sun Wukong lay on his side, his tail draped protectively over a small, golden-furred bundle in the center. Little Taiyang was fast asleep, his tiny peach-shaped birthmark twitching as he dreamed, his hand curled tightly around Wukong’s thumb.
On the other side, Liu’er Mihou was curled around them both, his six ears relaxed for the first time in days. One of his shadows flickered playfully near the baby’s feet, tucking the blanket closer.
Wukong let out a soft, huffing snore, shifting closer to Liu’er. They were blissfully unaware that the Heavens had almost declared war on their peace — and even more unaware that their son was currently being guarded by the literal word of the Buddha.
In the quiet of the mountain, Taiyang let out a tiny, contented chirp, safe between the two strongest beings he would ever know.
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