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Summary
The objects clattered on the vanity as Wukong’s hands gripped firmly onto the surface of the wood, keeping Macaque leaned over it, staring up at the towering Great Sage. All he could do was stand still as the ginger-furred monkey leaned onto Macaque’s side, whispering into his ears.
“There are more ways to make you sing.” He huffed, “And you know what type of show I want.”
