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In the quiet solitude of flower fruit mountain, an irreversible mistake was made, shattering the once unbreakable bond between two celestial apes who were once inseparable. Love, loyalty, and trust now lay shattered on the cold ground, replaced by the weight of guilt and the echoes of a deafening silence. Laughter and shared secrets filled the air whenever they were together. They were the epitome of friendship, navigating life's labyrinthine paths hand in hand. From childhood misadventures to the triumphs and tribulations of the past, their souls were intertwined in a sacred union of kinship. But as fate would have it, shadows began to loom ominously over the once-cherished bond, paving the way for a catastrophic event that would forever alter their lives. Then came that fateful moment, when the fragile threads holding their friendship together unraveled. A tempest of emotions swept over Sun Wukong, fueled by a lethal combination of anger, betrayal, and a distorted perception of reality. Boundaries were crossed, and in the chaos that ensued, a single, irreversible action was taken—a life was extinguished, the life of his best friend, the Six-Eared Macaque, Liùěr Míhóu.
As the gravity of Sun Wukong’s heinous act sank in, remorse crashed upon him like relentless waves against jagged rocks. The weight of the truth, a heavy burden that could never be fully shed, settled on Wukong’s shoulders, threatening to consume his very essence. The echoes of his best friend's laughter, now silenced forever, haunted his every waking moment, a haunting reminder of the bond they had, shattered with his own hands. Every passing moment served as a cruel reminder of the irreversible choices he had made, tormenting his conscience with vivid images of the past. The echoes of Liùěr Míhóu’s laughter, forever silenced, reverberated through Wukong’s thoughts, magnifying the enormity of their transgressions. The weight of his guilt pressed upon his soul, leaving him trapped in an endless cycle of self-doubt and self-blame, yearning for a chance at redemption that seemed just out of reach. It had been over 100 years since Sun Wukong had slaughtered his best friend, his moon. The memory still haunted him even after so much time had passed.
Sun Wukong looked up at the painting of his old companions, his friends. He’d forgotten how long he’d been sitting there, staring. The sage’s eyes traced each of their faces, him, Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, Bai Long Ma, and master. Tang Sanzang, Buddha of Sandalwood Merit, the reincarnation of Golden Cicada, the person he killed Liùěr Míhóu for. Wukong had done so much for him, he’d changed his ways, left his brothers, and now master was dead. All of his friends were, all his friends either resented him or left him and now he was alone. Wukong stood, walking closer to the mural, tracing his master's face with his claws, he looked so peaceful. It was all because of master, because of him. Wukong curled his hand into a fist. Sun Wukong, the once great sage, was a lonely, angry, king. Left all alone on his mountain with the remainder of his subjects, all because of him. He slammed his fist into the mural, the stone cracked, still intact.
Wukong rested his forehead against the cold stone, fighting tears. His mind traced back to the memory of his deceased friend. He missed Liùěr Míhóu. The sudden memory of Liùěr’s mangled body made him cringe, scrunching his eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the memory. His attempts were futile. The side of Liùěr Míhóu skull he’d smashed in, the sound of his screaming. The sage’s heart began to race, his body temperature rose, he pressed his hands to his ears, slumping onto the ground. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. He grabbed at the fabric covering his chest squeezing it so tight it threatened to rip. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Sounds of the warrior’s screams continued to ring in his ears, tears brimming in his eyes, and falling down his face. He bent at the waist, his head between his knees pulling on the hair on his scalp. Wukong screamed. The sound a desperate and mutated one, echoed through the mountain. A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his spiral.
“You’re going to wake the infants Wukong.” He recognized that voice, turning to find its source, “Liùěr?”
And there he was, Liùěr Míhóu, emerging from the shadows. Wukong finally allowed the tears in his eyes to spill, running down his cheeks as he called out, his voice filled with a mix of relief and overwhelming joy, ", Liùěr Míhóu! it's you!" Liùěr’s face lit up with a familiar smile, his eyes shimmering with tenderness.
He extended his hand towards Wukong, beckoning him to come closer. Trembling with anticipation, Wukong stood up, taking a step forward, ready to embrace his long-lost friend.
“I’m so sorry Liùěr. I’m so so so sorry. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. Please... Let us talk.” But as their fingertips were about to touch, a strange sensation rippled through the air. The illusion shattered before Wukong's eyes, dissipating like mist in the wind. The figure that had appeared as his Liùěr vanished, leaving behind nothing but an empty void. The great sage stood frozen in disbelief, his heart shattered once again. He sank to his knees, the weight of his grief crashing down upon him. It was as if the universe had played a cruel joke, granting him a glimmer of hope only to snatch it away. He missed Liùěr.