I just became the Pirate King, and you're telling me I also time-traveled at the same time.

Sun Wukong remained silent.

He looked around at the peach grove, the waterfall, the mountain wall, and the monkeys—the monkeys hadn't practiced their skills today, and were scattered in twos and threes, some dozing in the trees, some picking lice from each other by the water, and some doing somersaults on the flat ground.

They lived very comfortably, so comfortably that they didn't seem like a group of wild monkeys struggling to survive in the wilderness, but rather like a group of pets kept in someone's yard.

"Now that you mention it," Sun Wukong slowly began, "I, Old Sun, also feel that something is amiss."

When I lived here, the mountains were full of monsters.

"Which of the seventy-two demon kings wasn't a mountain lord who devoured people? How did these monkeys, without demonic power, survive?"

"That's why I'm looking." Chu Yang stood up and walked towards the waterfall.

Sun Wukong followed behind him.

As they passed through the peach grove, several monkeys followed them, looking at Chu Yang curiously, probably thinking he was about to teach them something new again.

Chu Yang ignored them and walked straight to the pool below the waterfall.

The pool was not large, only about ten feet in circumference, and the water was very clear, so clear that you could see the stones and aquatic plants at the bottom.

The waterfall cascades down, crashing onto the water's surface and creating a spray of white mist. Sunlight shines through the mist, casting a short rainbow above the pool.

Chu Yang stood by the pool, looking down at the water.

Below the water's surface, there were nothing but stones.

He put his hand into the pool, palm down, fingers spread.

The water in the pool was very cold, not the normal cold of mountain streams, but a deeper and more persistent cold, as if it were seeping from some extremely deep place underground.

He dipped his hands in the water for a while, then pulled them out. Water droplets dripped down his fingertips, landing on the surface of the water and creating small circles.

"Spiritual energy," he said.

"What?" Sun Wukong leaned closer.

"There is a spirit in the water."

"It's very faint, but it's definitely there." Chu Yang wiped his wet hands on his clothes. "I felt it on my first day here, but I was too tired to think about it in detail."

Later, he taught the monkeys to practice kung fu every day, and they drank this water and washed their faces with it. The traces of spiritual energy became more and more obvious. He looked around and said, "This mountain, this water, this forest, these things all come together so coincidentally."

Spiritual energy doesn't appear out of thin air.

Sun Wukong squatted down and put one finger into the pool.

His fingers lingered in the water for a moment, then he closed his eyes.

As a powerful demon with extremely high cultivation, his perception of spiritual energy was much more acute than Chu Yang's—he hadn't noticed it before because he hadn't even considered it.

Huaguo Mountain is his hometown. He has lived here all his life and is so familiar with everything about it that he doesn't question it.

Just like an old house that you've lived in for decades, you wouldn't suddenly go and check its foundation.

He opened his eyes, and his expression changed.

"Yes," he said. "It's very faint, hidden in the coolness of the water; you can't feel it at all unless you look closely."

It's not innate talent; it comes from elsewhere.

Something is constantly seeping out.

Chu Yang nodded and walked around the edge of the pool.

The pool is bordered by a waterfall on one side and a pebble beach on the other three sides.

The stones on the pebble beach are of varying sizes, some as big as a tabletop, others as small as pebbles. Several clumps of aquatic plants grow along the water's edge, their roots embedded in the mud of the shallow water.

He turned the large stones over one by one to examine them. Underneath the stones lay damp, wet soil and frightened insects scurrying away, but he didn't find what he was looking for.

There were too many small stones; he couldn't possibly turn them over one by one.

He turned his gaze to the rock wall behind the waterfall.

The stone wall is covered with a thick layer of moss. Water has been flowing down from top to bottom for hundreds of years, carving countless grooves into the stone wall.

He walked to the foot of the stone wall and looked up.

Water droplets fell from above, hitting his face. He squinted, his gaze moving inch by inch along the stone wall.

"What kind of cave are you looking for?" Sun Wukong walked over, stood next to him, and looked up at the stone wall as well. "The kind with a cave behind a waterfall? The Water Curtain Cave where I lived back then was just like that."

"It's not necessarily behind the waterfall." Chu Yang wiped the water off his face. "The spiritual energy should be the densest behind the waterfall because the water curtain blocks it, making it difficult for the spiritual energy to dissipate."

However, the pool in front of the waterfall has the strongest spiritual energy, while the pool behind the waterfall doesn't feel as spiritual.

Therefore, the object should be below the pool.

"What's below the pool?" Sun Wukong looked down at the clear water. "This pool doesn't look deep."

"That means there's a hidden cave down there," Chu Yang said.

He started taking off his clothes.

He took off his outer robe, folded it neatly, and placed it on the stone. He took off his shoes, stuffed his socks inside, took the dagger out of his sleeve, thought for a moment, and then decided to leave it tucked into his waistband instead of putting it down.

He was wearing only trousers, shirtless, and barefoot as he walked into the water along the edge of the pool.

The water rose over his ankles, knees, waist, chest, and shoulders, and then he was completely submerged.

The pool is much deeper than it looks—the surface appears to be only one person deep, but the underwater rock walls slope downwards, getting deeper towards the waterfall. At the point directly below the waterfall, the water is more than two zhang deep.

Chu Yang dived to the bottom of the pool. The underwater light was dim, but he could still see things clearly.

The bottom of the pool was covered with a layer of gravel, and aquatic plants grew between the gravel. The aquatic plants swayed with the current, and occasionally a few palm-sized fish would emerge from the plants, only to swim away quickly when they saw him.

He felt around the bottom of the pool.

There was nothing special beneath the rubble.

He surfaced to catch his breath, then dived back down, this time feeling along the base of the rock face.

The underwater portion of the rock wall is smooth, without cracks or entrances to hidden caves.

He surfaced, shook the water off his hair, and gasped for breath.

The coolness of the pool water seeped into his skin, raising goosebumps on his arms.

"No?" Sun Wukong asked from the shore.

There are no cracks.

"The stone wall is intact." Chu Yang stepped into the water and looked around.

His gaze swept over the waterfall, over the rock face, over the water plants at the edge of the pool, and suddenly stopped on a rock next to the water plants.

That stone doesn't look right.

The stones in the pool are all irregular, with sharp edges, and they still have sharp edges even after being washed by the water for hundreds of years.

But that rock—half above the water and half below—was so smooth, as if it had been polished.

Chu Yang swam over and placed his hand on the rock.

There was a layer of slippery moss on the surface of the stone. He scraped off the moss to reveal the gray stone underneath.

The stone surface has patterns—not natural patterns, but artificially carved patterns. They are very shallow and fine. After being soaked in water for too long, most of them have been worn away, but the general shape can still be seen.

It is a talisman.

He placed his hand on the talisman and closed his eyes.

The residual spiritual energy on the stone was so weak that he wouldn't have been able to sense it at all unless he was extremely sensitive to spiritual energy.

The power of the talisman had almost dissipated, but it was still operating—an extremely basic and extremely slow operation, like an old well where the water was almost gone, but there was still a trace of moisture at the bottom.

Chu Yang opened his eyes and began to move the stone.

The stone was much heavier than he had imagined.

Half of his body was submerged in water, and the buoyancy of the water helped somewhat, but the weight of the rock itself still caused the veins in his arm to bulge.

He gritted his teeth and pushed hard, but the stone didn't budge.

He tried pushing it in another direction, but the stone still wouldn't budge.

He stepped back, stood still in chest-deep water, took a deep breath, grabbed the edge of the rock with both hands again, firmly planted his feet on the pebbles at the bottom of the pool, lowered his waist, and used all his strength to lift himself up.

The stone moved.

It wasn't the kind of movement where it was lifted up; it slid to the side a little.

The bottom of the stone rubbed against the surface of the pool, producing a dull "crunching" sound, as if something had been awakened.

Then the pool began to rotate.

The ripples on the water surface suddenly changed direction, radiating outwards from the waterfall and transforming into a giant whirlpool.

The center of the vortex was right in front of Chu Yang—where the stone was located.

The water spun faster and faster, making a "whoosh" sound, as if someone had pulled a plug from the bottom of the pool.

The pebbles beneath Chu Yang's feet were swept up by the water flow and hit his calves, causing a sharp pain.

He clung tightly to the rock, trying to keep himself from being swept away by the current.

The vortex lasted for about ten breaths, then stopped.

After the last few ripples on the water disappeared, a hole appeared in front of Chu Yang.

The cave was right beneath that rock—the rock had shifted three feet to the side as it rotated, revealing a dark entrance underneath.

The entrance is small, just enough for one person to pass through. Water is being poured in quickly, but the opening is never completely filled, indicating that the space inside is quite large.

Chu Yang stood at the entrance of the cave and looked inside.

I couldn't see anything, only darkness and the sound of water being poured in.

But the air gushing from the cave entrance—a dry, warm air with some indescribable ancient aura—indicates that there is air and space below.

"Found it!" Sun Wukong's voice came from the shore, his tone full of excitement.

He had already stood up, the golden cudgel in his hand gleaming with a dark golden light. "I'm going down to take a look!"

"Don't," Chu Yang raised his hand to stop him, "This hole is too small, you can't fit in."

Sun Wukong was much taller and broader than Chu Yang. Chu Yang could barely pass through the cave entrance, but Sun Wukong definitely couldn't.

Sun Wukong, anxious and restless on the shore, scratched his head and paced back and forth. Finally, he stamped his foot and said, "Then be careful! If you encounter anything, shout loudly, and I, Old Sun, will smash through the mountain with my cudgel to dig you out!"

Chu Yang did not answer.

He looked around the cave entrance—four talismans were carved on the stone wall at the entrance, just like the one on the stone, almost worn smooth, but still faintly active.

The four talismans formed an extremely sophisticated restriction, not to seal anything, but to conceal it—to suppress the aura inside the cave and prevent it from leaking out.

These four talismans have stood here for countless years, so long that their spiritual power has almost been exhausted. That's why spiritual energy seeps out, seeping into the pool, the waterfall, the soil of the peach grove, and into the bodies of the monkeys.

Chu Yang took a breath, braced his hands against the opening, and sank his body down into the hole.

The tunnel extends downwards at an angle with a very steep slope, almost vertical, but there are grooves carved into the tunnel walls that can be used to step on and grab onto.

Chu Yang climbed down the grooves, and with each step, the water on the cave wall decreased. After about twenty steps, the cave wall was completely dry.

The air was much warmer than outside, carrying the smell of earth and stones that had been baked, and another, fainter smell—like the smell of an old book that had been opened, the smell of paper and ink fermenting over the long years.

The tunnel is not long.

After thirty steps, the slope became gentler, and after another twenty steps, Chu Yang stepped onto flat ground.

He was standing in a grotto.

The grotto was not large, about three zhang in circumference, and just tall enough for him to stand upright.

Several fist-sized pearls are embedded in the walls of the grotto. The light emitted by the pearls is not the bright white of sunlight, nor the cold silver of moonlight, but a soft warm light, like the light emitted by candlelight in a lantern at dusk through a paper cover.

The light shone on something in the very center of the cave.

is a person.

A person was sitting cross-legged, with his back to Chu Yang.

Chu Yang did not move.

His hand was already on the dagger at his waist, but he didn't pull it out.

Because he sensed it—that person had no trace of life.

It was a corpse, a corpse that had been dead for who knows how many years.

But the spiritual energy around the corpse was so dense that it almost solidified.

It wasn't the faint spiritual energy Chu Yang usually sensed, but a powerful, profound, and living spiritual energy.

Spiritual energy emanated continuously from the corpse, like magma gushing from the ground, slow, unstoppable, and carrying a suffocating power.

The air inside the grotto became viscous due to this spiritual energy. With each breath, one could feel the spiritual energy flowing into the lungs through the trachea, then seeping from the alveoli into the flesh and blood, and into the bone marrow.

Chu Yang stood at the cave entrance for a long time, so long that his breathing gradually synchronized with the rhythm of the spiritual energy.

He took a deep breath, and then slowly, step by step, walked toward the person who had passed away.

He stopped when he got to the front.

He was a very old man.

It wasn't the kind of aged look of someone in their seventies or eighties, but an antiquity that transcended the concept of time—his skin was still there, not rotten, not withered, but had lost all its moisture and color, turning into a dark brown, clinging tightly to his bones, turning his face into a piece of leather tanned by the years.

His eyes were closed, his eye sockets were deep, and the corners of his mouth were slightly turned down, as if he was still thinking about something before entering a meditative state. He died with that question in his mind, without figuring it out.

His hair was completely white, not gray, but silvery-white, each strand as fine as silk, draped over his shoulders and down to the ground, spreading out on his legs as he sat cross-legged, like a frozen waterfall.

He was wearing a robe.

It was neither a cassock nor an official robe, but an extremely simple gray cloth robe, so old-fashioned that Chu Yang couldn't recognize it.

The robe was very clean; no, it should be said that the robe itself had not been stained with a speck of dust over the long years—spiritual energy was protecting it, and also protecting the corpse.