Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“What do you mean he’s not here?”

“Hey, this ain't my fault you lost an entire monkey!”

“I didn't!”

“Yes you did!”

“Beng! I just ran late! ” 

“And I was here early!” The cheeky chitter echoes through the lush clearing. “Early enough to see our young king be anguished by your absence-!” 

“Aaaargh!” 

Ringing laughter echoes through the mountainside, full of lighthearted mockery as the subject of humiliation gazes up into the canopy of a lychee tree -where a pair of orange-red eyes reside among the bounty of fruits, gazing back with mischief sparkling in them. The resident of the great tree stretches out languidly like a tiger soaking in sunlight, gray-brown tail lazily flicks off the edge of the robust branch the monkey demon has taken residence upon.

“So you do know where he is.” Ma says after a long pause, eyeing his less than cooperative troupe member. 

Beng’s cheeky smirk is his only response. Having long grown accustomed and in Ma’s opinion, positively lazy within the safety and bounty of Flower Fruit Mountain, Beng seems relaxed in the knowledge that Ma wouldn’t climb up the tree seeking retribution. Instead, he plucks another fruit from the tree and picks at the bright pink, dimpled skin with his claws. With great methodical care for such an impulsive trickster, the young demon continues peeling the fruit, sharp claws picking apart the pale shell with practiced ease. All but immersed in his task, and utterly, purposely ignoring his former leader fuming at the base of the tree. 

He’s playing with the fruit instead of eating it outright, a luxury the demon monkey did not possess two years ago.

Despite the current situation and the looming headache the lankier monkey is threatening upon Ma, the sight still gives the former troop leader a great sense of warmth and satisfaction. No longer is the smaller demon’s coat patchy, coarse and full of dirt from months of travel across treacherous roads, shadowy back alleys and unforgiving mountain paths. Indeed, Ma’s folly across most of China had led them all to a veritable paradise, one his troop had settled in with great joy.

Even in moments like this, seeing the fruits of his labors -seeing his friend’s face round and cheeky, cheeks no longer hollowed by hunger- makes Ma’s spirit soar. Two years since they’ve reached safety, two years since Ma relinquished his title as leader to give it to their generous host, two years of no regrets.

After so long, Ma’s done it.

Everything’s perfect.

“-you should have seen him! He paced so much he made a circle in the grass! Oh, our poor, sweet king was so distraught!”

-until Beng ruins it.

Again.

Truthfully, Ma shouldn’t be surprised. Beng is almost as bad as Shi Hou, and the young king is still but a child.

“Beng,” He hisses, glaring up at the mischievous demon. “Where is he?”

Beng ignores him, holding up a single pink, round object. “Want some fruit-”

“There’s fruit everywhere,” Ma half-snap, not fully committing to it because the sheer miracle of waking up every morning and seeing fruits as far as the eye can see is still mind-boggling. Even the deeper canopies where the light struggles to reach are chock-full of mushrooms and roots. The animals here are fat and easy to catch, the rivers are full of fish and tasty plant life. 

A celestial garden, right here on earth. After a lifetime spent begging in the streets, it almost seems like a dream.

But this is real, and Ma will protect it with all he has -and to start that mission, he needs to keep endearing himself and the others to the little demon king that had taken them in with complete and utter open arms.

Beng with his wiggling eyebrows isn’t helping.

“Not even one? These ones are really yummy-”

“Beng!”

“Open.” Beng’s voice goes curt and without mercy and Ma sighs, knowing what comes next. He takes a few steps closer to the tree before giving in and opening a hand, stretching it out. He hears a happy chirp from above, followed by a veritable bushel of fruit being dropped onto his waiting arms. The fruit is bright and pink, calling out to him. 

Ma looks up. His friend’s expression is slight disdain, vaguely calm. His tail sways slower as the demon picks at a fruit, using his claws to reveal the lychee’s pale white, sweet flesh. 

“I know you didn’t eat when you woke up. You ran all the way here, didn’t you?” The usually lighthearted monkey guesses as he tosses the seed within the fruit aside, an eyebrow cocked up and waiting as he turns his gaze back to the taller, pale brown monkey below.

Ma wilts slightly. Maintaining eye contact with the younger demon, he takes one of the fruit and eats it. Not for the first time, he’s surprised how fresh and sweet the fruit is in his mouth; perfectly ripe, perfectly perfect for awakening a hunger Ma had taught himself to ignore in his youth. 

He quickly eats another fruit, then another. Above, he spies how Beng leans back against his tree, tail wagging, satisfied.

“Shi Hou went back up,” The young monkey finally offers, and Ma quickly chokes down on the lychee fruit, surprised by his own hunger. “-he wandered up the north path. All the way up the east cavern, I think.” 

Ma perks up. “Finally!” He decries, heart hammering as he whirls around, nearly dropping the last of the fruit in his haste to make it back up the rocky mountain path -one of the many that litter the great mountain.

Behind him, he hears Beng let out a chitter. “Hey, hey! Eat all of that!” The once bone-thin monkey yells at him sharply as he rushes away.

“I will!” Ma yells over his shoulder, only just avoiding a rotten fruit thrown at his back from the other monkey. Beng yells something else, more monkey-chitter than proper words, but the warning to eat less the gray monkey follows after him to ensure Ma’s hunger is satisfied is clear.

Ma would be a fool to ignore the threat.

The northern path is a wide, rocky terrain, the thick roots of the oversized trees clinging to the face of the mountain serving as perfect footholds for the demon monkey. Ma quickly makes his way upwards, following the path shown to him by the owner of the mountain two years ago.

Quickly enough, there’s a clearing that comes into view. The centerpiece is a massive waterfall that spills down from the top of the mountain, creating a sizable pond. Rocks, smooth and polished, stick out from the surface of the water, their edges well worn from years of use. Ma is careful as he jumps from rock to rock, stops in front of the waterfall, and flares his magic.

Before him, the water parts; a sliver of the great roaring waterfall moves aside, giving Ma enough space to jump in from his rock and land, mostly free of water, on the stone and grass path within.

Inside, a small forest greets him; Ma’s ears are filled with chitters, hoots and calls, and not for the first time today, he preens proudly upon noticing wagging tails among the canopy. Mothers caring for their young, teenagers giving chase, elders sitting together in circles, sharing fruit and gossip. Monkeys, demons and mortals alike, going about their day.

Happy. Well fed. Safe.

But now’s not the time for this, so he turns east and makes his way down a winding tunnel barely visible from the main chamber. Torches line the hall, aided by the fat glowbugs that had taken residence within the cave and that to the great sadness of many monkeys, were not allowed to be eaten. Over time, the natural light from their glow has made it easy to navigate the caves, even during night time.

This early in the morning, there is no need for them. Sunlight from the end of the tunnel allows the demon to navigate easily enough. Ma merely follows the simple path, up and up and up , until he enters a smaller, rectangular chamber with one side fully open to the outside world. He smiles nervously as he enters the room, apologies and cajolements tumbling out of his mouth;

“Shi Hou, I’m so sorry your highness-”

He stops, realizing that yes, there is a celestial monkey in the eastern cavern.

“Shi Hou got bored of waiting for you.”

…but it's not the one he’s looking for. Not for the first time, Ma takes in the sight of that phantom white fur, those shimmering, ethereal ears, and finds himself reminiscing of all he’s learned so far. 

There are two things every thinking being dwelling upon Flower Fruit Mountain know.

Firstly, that Shi Hou is the undisputed king. 

No one dares think otherwise, and newcomers who do think they know better, that they are stronger, are quickly put in their place or outright tossed out of the mystical island… alive, if the king of Flower Fruit Mountain found himself in a merciful enough mood that day. The celestial stone monkey may be tiny compared to most demons, he might be childish, impulsive, often prone to not thinking his actions through, and his face full of an alarming amount of youthful chubbiness… but beneath it all dwells the reason why the Stone Monkey is king, and that is a undeniable, unbending, terrifying fury that could rear its head up any time, if a soul may be unfortunate enough to bring the golden demon’s ire.

Ma counted on this, when he brought his troop halfway across China to get to Flower Fruit Mountain. 

Demon monkeys aren’t viewed very kindly by stronger demons, their natural curiosity and rambunctious nature making it hard for them to be taken seriously. Few are the troops that make it well enough to be feared.  The baboons of Iron Mountain carved their own kingdom through blood, sweat and gunpowder; they earned their territory and most of all, their bloodthirsty nature that has other demon clans shying away from attempting to take over their mountain. Even if the rich mines beneath the mountain make for a tempting fruit, no clan has dared attempt to siege the baboons’ home. 

Monkeys like Ba or his troop however, had no lofty mountain cities to retreat into. They were born of the forest, by the forest, among a scattered troop of demon monkeys whose numbers wavered every week due to predation by stronger demons, or humans looking for glory. To stay within their forest homeland would have condemned them to a simple, fleeting life; not what he or his friends envisioned. Cities demonic or mortal are death traps, their citizens eager to chase them out on sight.

Thus, as soon as they were considered young adults, Ma made his choice. He left the troop in search of a new place to call home. A handful of others, trusting in his resolve, followed after.

An ocean and several provinces later, here they are. 

They had no riches, no true title before coming to Flower Fruit Mountain. When Ma heard rumors of a powerful monkey demon, it had taken him a long time to decide whether or not to make the journey -and truly, it was worth it.  For all his bloodthirst, Shi Hou is a kind demon king to those he considers his people. 

Too kind, sometimes. A juvenile ability to trust that had initially alarmed Ma… until he met the other half of the Monkey King.

Because there is another unavoidable truth that comes with living on Flower Fruit Mountain. The reason Ma feels that odd, crawling sense of dread creeping up his spine the longer he looks at the celestial primate before him.

Nothing, and truly nothing, gets past Liu'er Mihou.

Those six ears are certainly not just for adding more flair to an already fascinating creature.  From the smallest mistake to any disgruntled comments about the king, the pale demon seemingly always catches wind of it. All hearing Six Ears, the troupe would whisper. There is no one on the island who can say a single bad thing about the Stone Monkey without Liu’er Mihou being aware of it. It’s… unsettling, truly, how the demon seems to know everything.  

Simply put, the Six Eared Macaque’s knowledge of the island is absolute.

Without a doubt, the shadow of the Monkey King is the most elusive creature living on the mountain. Rarely ever away from the Stone Monkey, the Wind Monkey shadows his every step, never missing a single thing. He's the source of many hushed whispers among the handful of demon monkeys that settled with Ma under Shi Hou's rule. Not like the Six Ears cares about such trivial things -for as much as he'd helped Shi Hou make the island hospitable to them... well, Ma doesn't think he's very happy about sudden additions, but he'd never voiced a complaint as far as Ma has heard of.

Yet h e seems strangely keen on ignoring them.

Like now.

The source of the sudden tightness in his throat doesn’t even look up at him. Those golden eyes remain fixed in place -and despite never straying his gaze from his work, Ma can feel the weight of that glare on him. Contrary to the Monkey King, the Macaque holds himself with unusual grace for a demon of his age and stature. Even now, sitting cross legged on the stone floor, dressed in simple robes, he radiates something unsettling Ma can't quite pin down.

“I overslept,” Ma swallows; the faint sense of dread he feels, the monkey demon forces down with practiced ease. “Don’t worry, Liu’er -I’ll apologize to Shi Hou when I see him.” He says more curtly, almost matching his fellow troopmate’s tone.

“Please, do so.” The dismissal in that polite response is clear.

He shouldn't surprised, since Ma oversleeping after promising to train with his precious Shi Hou is more than enough to qualify as a slight against the king in the Six Ears' eyes. Faintly frustrated, Ma watches as the other continues his work, uninterested in his explanations. Picking up more colorful stones Ma can't identify, and dropping them into the little stone mortar. What follows is the steady sound of minerals being grounded into a fine paste, to be later mixed with vegetable oil or animal fat to create paints.

All done while still ignoring him.

Akin to a child.

No, not akin. Like a child, because Ma knows that's what he and Shi Hou are. Children. Not quite demons as they’ve revealed to them after their arrival, but close enough that at a glance they don’t seem out of place. And for all his seeming maturity compared to the stone monkey, Liu’er could be pretty childish. 

Like now.

“Liu’er,” he begins, noting how those namesake ears don’t even twitch at this. “Do you know where Shi Hou is?”

As Ma speaks, he watches Liu’er’s slender fingers pick up a ceramic bowl and bring it next to his mortar. Carefully, the pale demon grabs the mortar and begins gently pushing its contents onto the bowl. The ground up dust is bright blue like a cloudless summer sky, and almost shimmers under the sunlight.  Liu’er is utterly silent as he works, the way he clearly leaves Ma languishing in anticipation making the older demon squirm on the inside. It's clear that this is a punishment for his lateness from the younger demon, one that Ma has no desire to humor.

After a long pause, Ma finally opens up his mouth and dares:

“Liu’er, I really need to-”

“He’s occupied.” Liu’er interrupts flatly, picking up a cloth. He begins cleaning the mortar thoroughly, still not even glancing at Ma. “You had your time with him in the morning. Shi Hou is a busy king.”

Ma grits his teeth. “I was supposed to be training him.”

“And you had your chance.” A flick of an upper ear. Ma silently takes it as a victory. Six Ears is irritated, he can tell. “Now Shi Hou is doing something else. Go back to Beng.”

Ma’s hands clench into fists at this. A part of him questions how the other knows where he’d been, another feels utterly irate at the dismissal. Liu’er might outrank him by being Shi Hou’s favorite, but Ma hasn’t come so far in life by accepting what the world has to throw at him. Regardless of his status as a celestial primate, ‘friend’ and most of all, Shi Hou’s favored, Ma won’t accept such a response.

“We both know Shi Hou does what he wants.” Ma points out calmly, secretly enjoying how Liu’er’s ears twitch and flex more in aggravation. Score. The ghostly demon has always been too quiet, too comfortable in the silence; Ma’s retort is both a surprise and something the pale demon has to begrudgingly hear. “You can try giving him a schedule as much as you’d like, but he’s his own person. Sounds like he wanted to train with me, so I’ll apologize to him for my lateness and ask him if he still wants to learn.”

Liu’er tail slaps against the floor of the cavern. A faint wind flickers from the side opening, unsettling the ground up minerals the white monkey spent so much time preparing. Ma fights off a satisfied smirk. 

Good. 

He got under the Six Ears’ skin. 

A small victory that will surely remind the macaque of his place.

Liu’er finally lifts his gaze from the array of jars and stones laid out before him. His eyes gaze deep into Ma’s, the haunting celestial gold leaving no space for weakness. It’s always impossible to tell what the Six Ears is thinking, so Ma doesn’t even bother.

He merely meets that impassive stare head on, and waits.

Maybe even quirks his lip up in challenge, just to see the shadow monkey’s frown deepen. Ma should hate Liu’er Mihou. Plenty among the troop feel unsettled by him; though plenty more are far more grateful of the sanctuary Flower Fruit Mountain provides to dare insult the demon who in truth, truly manages the territory.

Yet, for Ma, he can't bring himself to distrust the macaque fully. Shi Hou being the one who talked their ears off and showed them around the mountain during the troop’s first week, but it had been Liu’er Mihou who gave Ma and the older monkeys a comprehensive guide around the mountain. Where to find the best fruits, what is best which season, where the medicinal plants grow, what ponds are safe to bathe in and which rivers should be avoided -all things that they could have figured out eventually, yet the Six Ears offered freely. 

While pointing the finger at Shi Hou and deciding that the king of Flower Fruit Mountain had been the one to order his solemn half to do this, Ma thinks there’s more to this. Liu’er Mihou doesn’t hate him, or the troop.

He's just very confusing about how he goes for caring about his subordinates. 

Which makes it all the more frustrating.

The tension suddenly breaks as the set of ears gracing Liu'er left side flare up attentively, in the way they only do for one person. Ma hides a smirk as he watches the demon eyes turn away from him, to the opening of the cave where the vegetation is rustling. A short figure comes into view, tumbling out of the vegetation with a tiny monkey coiled around his shoulders.

It’s the King of Flower Fruit Mountain. Shi Hou, the Stone Monkey, the terror of the island… nearly trips as he lands at the edge of the half-open cavern. There’s leaves stuck to his hair, and a butterfly is clinging stubbornly to his right shoulder. Holding rolls of papers against his chest, he's grinning from ear to ear.

To Ma’s relief, that smile only grows when those golden eyes land on him. Shi Hou perks up at the sight of him.

“Ma!”

“I-”

He doesn't get the chance. The stone monkey is having none of this, wagging an indignant finger at him.

“You overslept!”  For how loud he is, the little king doesn't look resentful at all. His cheeks are puffy in a manner that speaks of exaggeration, and he has his hands on his hips as he regards him expectantly -a posture that he’d picked up from years of watching Ma wrangle the handful of demon monkeys that followed him to Flower Fruit Mountain. A blessing. The little monkey on his shoulder puffs up its cheeks in turn, mimicking the young king as it glares at Ma; he recognizes this one, with the cream-gold fur. Liu, a orphan monkey named in honor of the king's shadow.

Ma gives him a bow in greeting. “My king.” He says before slowly straightening up, making sure to look as sorry and as ashamed as he actually feels. “My deepest apologies, my king.” He mutters at the demon half his size, looking down. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” Ma stressed, the tip of his tail fluttering anxiously.

“Hm.” Shi Hou jerks his chin up imperiously. Something Ba does often -even complete with an indignant foot tap. “I will be gracious this time.” He says with a childish smile and flashing teeth. On his shoulder, Liu loses his glare but chitters at Ma, almost as if trying to scold the demon himself.

Despite the promise, Ma feels no real fear. He knows there's no threat coming from the little king, especially not over something as simple as oversleeping. Shi Hou doesn't do that. Any other budding demon lord of the young monkey's rank would have reacted more harshly, for it is in the nature of demons to nurse slights. Not this one. It took a while for the troop to pick up on this, to understand the dynamic the little king enjoys with his subjects. 

Many scars were acquired during their travels and the idea of offending their host had seemed unthinkable.

But…

Their stone king is different. As long as they wish to live in harmony with the mountain, her stone child would welcome them with open arms. They would serve him, cater to his every whim, and the aspiring demon lord would protect them in turn-

“Mihou, are you making more paint?!”

The sudden, excited exclamation draws Ma out of his thoughts. He looks over to see Shi Hou turning to the Six Ears, abandoning his imperious stance in favor of crowding his pale counterpart and making grabby hands at the goods scattered before the Six Ears. Amber eyes travel across the pale monkey's hoard, each new sight making the King's tail wag harder and harder.

“Yes, Shi Hou.” In contrast, Liu'er Mihou is impeccably stoic as he shows the excited king the surprisingly vast selection of crushed pigments and bottles. Ma knows this is one of the many skillsets of the Six Ears, but even he is surprised with the small treasure trove of colorful bottled paints.  “Is there any that catch your-”

A finger is jabbed at a bowl full of yellow dust.

“I like that color!” 

Shi Hou nary points that one out, not even waiting for Liu’er to open his mouth before he turns to the blue powder Six Ears only just finished making. He swipes it practically from the other’s lap and it takes all of Ma’s willpower not to gasp. 

 “Oh, this one! Can you make it brighter?” Shi Hou eyes the contest of the bowl with a critical eye. He tilts and sways the bowl side to side, examining the way the azure catches the light. His nose wrinkles; Liu peaks over his shoulder and coos excitedly at the bowl. “I want it brighter.” Shi Hou declares with more finality, tail wagging with joy.

Ma raises an eyebrow at the rapid fire requests. He peers at the blue dust from the sidelines, watching with anxiousness the tiniest amount spill to the side from Shi Hou’s abrupt movements -and yet still, a glance at Six Ears tells him that the pale demon hardly reacts, his eyes never leaving the king’s joyful expression.

“As you say, Shi Hou,” Liu’er says after a time as Shi Hou sets the bowl down and starts rummaging with great familiarity the line of tiny bottles next to the Six Ears. He only seems to half pay mind to his friend’s words as the Six Ears continues explaining. “...but I will need to go to the demon market for more minerals from Iron Mountain.” Liu'er Mihou adds; Ma spies his tail curl around the bowl of blue pigments and carefully slide it away behind the shadow, safely out of Shi Hou's reach. The king doesn't even notice, too busy examining the selection.

“We can do that tomorrow.” Shi Hou eyes the rest of the paints, tutting softly as he grabs a bottle filled with red paint and tosses it up in the air, catching it with ease. He does it again, and again, and Ma watches the motion with growing nervousness that the Six Ears hardly seems to share.  “I want more pinks!”

Liu’er reaches out as the bottle comes down for the third time, catching it in its downward arc  before it touches the king’s hand. Shi Hou grumbles as Liu’er pulls away, beginning to gather the rest of the bottles and putting them in a basket next to him ... .well out of the stone monkeys’ reach. “That can be done, Shi Hou.” Six Ears says calmly.

The stone monkey makes a happy little noise. Before Ma’s gobsmacked eyes, he steals another bottle, this time a vibrant shade of green, right out of Liu’er’s hands and holds it up to catch the outside light. His eyes narrow as he peers into the bottle.

“Green looks fine.” He mumbles, lowering the bottle and opening it. He sniffs it carefully, then eyes the insides again. Ma has never seen him so dutiful in his observations before. It makes him feel like an intruder, peaking in on a private moment between the unruly Six Ears and the energetic king.

“Happy to hear.” Liu’er doesn’t even sigh like Ma expects him to. He just grabs other bottles and puts those away. “...I’ll put it with the others, so you’ll have it at the ready for next time.” 

That could be the end of it, but Shi Hou doesn’t give the bottle back like Ma expects. No, not at all. Uncaring of how hard the Six Ears must have worked to make it, the little king dips half his dirty, furry finger into the little bottle and quickly pulls it out, chirping appreciatively at the bright, verdant green color of the mixture. 

At the sight Ma almost opens his mouth and makes a comment -the desire to chastise the young demon for partially ruining his friend’s work fades when he notices that once more, and truthfully not for the first time, Liu’er says nothing. He just lets the young king dirty his hard work. His expression hardly changes from a oddly fond look. Anyone else would have gotten an earful by now.

Ma tries not to stare. Perfectionist Six Ears, letting his work be ruined so callously.

“Woah, I like this shade!” Shi Hou chirps appreciatively, leaning down and smearing the green paint on the stone floor, using his fur as a makeshift brush to quickly make a few strokes . He seems to like the end result, for he finally, blessedly closes the paint bottle. “It’s so smooth.”

“I’m happy you like it, Shi Hou.” The Six Ears' response is soft, composed, but that tail is betraying him thoroughly Ma decides. No way he isn't happy with how the tip seems to flick up and down; it's almost sad to witness in his opinion.

“You’re better at this than me,” “...I can make the color almost as good, but I keep making it lumpy!” The king of Flower Fruit Mountain expels a great frustrated sigh, raising his arms in the air in despair while Ma stares slightly wide-eyed as the pieces fall in place. “-and I keep getting hair in it! It makes it look so messy!”

Despairing and red-faced, the frustrated young king fixes his other half with a pinched look. “Why don’t yours end up so clumpy and hairy?” He says almost accusingly.

The Six Ears' fond look hardly fades at the demand, but he does roll his eyes. “Mixing the oils and grinding the material takes time, Shi Hou.” The king interrupts with a series of chittered grumbles. Ma gets the feeling this isn't the first time such a discussion occured between the two of them as Liu'er Mihou's voice fails to falter. “...with a more patient hand, you will do just as well, if not better than me, eventually.” 

“Heh,” the little king snorts smugly, preening. “Of course I will-”

“-as long as you brush yourself properly before mixing paints-”

“-I do!” 

Ma stares as they continue to bicker, the reality of what he's witnessing finally sinking in.

Painting.

While Ma’s been trying to pull Shi Hou’s location out of Liu’er with the same difficulty as trying to fight a dragon blindfolded, their King had been painting.

This is what had Liu’er so earnest to keep Ma from bothering the king? 

Ma wants to laugh. Almost. He stifles the desire before it can take hold of him, knowing better than to provoke the Six Ear’s fury. The demon looks embarrassed enough already, trying to keep composure and a calm mask yet the faint blush on his pale face and the way his nose wrinkles up distastes betrays what the normally so unflappable young demon is desperately trying to hide. 

Shi Hou truly is the only chink in the Six Ear’s armor.

“It just gets in there no matter what I do!”

Six Ears just nod placatingly, the way a parent would do witnessing a tantrum. “Of course.”

“Bah!” Shi Hou grumbles dismissively. “You keep doing the paints, I will make the paintings!” He declares, turning his chin up in that damned manner he always does when he's telling Ma an official order but the little king has to crane his neck up to look at him in the eye. “That’s an order as your king!” He adds imperiously.

Ma now knows for sure that he's been forgotten about completely, because that's a rare smile he sees peeking behind Six Ear’s hand as the celestial primate turns away from Shi Hou. “Of course.”

“Why do I even need to learn how to make the colors?” Shi Hou continues, wrinkling his nose. “I got you for that.” He mutters.

Ma notes that Liu’er doesn’t reply to this. The moon-colored macaque simply continues to gather the grindstone, the bottles, and the wrappings of linen and silk with that same graceful dexterity he applies to everything. The smile is gone from his face, replaced by something more thoughtful.  Ma’s eyes slide over to the king, who does nothing to help but certainly lets his impatience show by bouncing from foot to foot.

What a strange pair they make.

But if Ma can make it work with Shi Hou ...maybe i n time, he will figure out the Six Eared Macaque’s secrets.