Orange-crest awoke a changed monkey. He was not sure how exactly. But there was something different about him, beyond the many wonderous and terrible things he'd seen and eaten these last two days. He strove to understand what exactly it was within him that had changed, for he was a monkey, and curiosity was his nature. But he did not fear it. Monkeys stood astride the boundary between men and beasts, but to fear the process of becoming was the domain of men alone.
Instead, orange-crest approached his changing mind with the same boundless enthusiasm that was the only way he knew how to live. He poked and prodded at it to see what it did, gnawed on it to see how it tasted. The first great discovery he made was that the texture of time had changed. For so long, he'd thought in terms of before and after. Yesterday and tomorrow. This season and next. The misty future and the past when he was small. Now a new thought lingered in his mind, the idea of tomorrow-tomorrow. Even the formerly unimaginable tomorrow-tomorrow-tomorrow.
For so long, the past had been like a forest. A pathless place to wander. There were parts of it more remote than others, but there was no concept of an order to it. Now, his mind sharpened, and he saw a single path stretching ever backwards. As he contemplated how he missed his other brothers, he found himself wondering how many yesterdays separated him from big-butt and the others.
The most-yesterday had been the night he'd been taken from Mount Yuelu. It'd been night then. When he'd awoke, the sun had been low, but not yet set. That meant he'd slept a whole day away. He and his brother had drunk wine all evening. Orange-crest had gorged himself on fruit as well, but his brother had not eaten no matter how many times orange-crest tried to proffer fruit. It was very rude, but one could not expect the hairless to know all manners.
The taking had been yesterday's yesterday. The idea hurt his head a little, but it felt like a good hurt. He'd spent this morning learning the many hoots of the hairless. He now knew more hairless noises than any monkey save the king! And then in the early afternoon, his hairless brother introduced him to numbers.
"Two." Scouring Medicine said.
"Persammon." Orange-crest corrected.
"Ugh. I should have begun with rocks. He's not going to last long enough to count these without eating them."
Orange-crest ignored his brother's incessant murmuring. He'd learned that whenever his brother used many different hoots and coos at once, he did not expect an answer. And yet, he coveted the secrets of those many different sounds. Scouring Medicine would have been surprised to learn that his muttered complaints were in their own way even more motivating than the food and alcohol he used to incentivize the monkey. Orange-crest was a proud monkey, but he was clever enough to see that his new brother was not the average hairless one.
He'd seen them from afar before, wallowing in dirt or roaming together in their hard-skins. He'd heard the many stories of his king about how they struggled to live atop the mountains and so they banded together in the valleys. How they quarreled ceaselessly, living so close together.
But his new brother was not like this. He commanded strange powers, and leapt through the sky like the Monkey King. He owned not merely one cave, but many. Not true caves, other strange hairless artifice, but caves all the same. Orange-crest did not own a single cave. His brother's territory seemed to span a whole side of the mountain!
His new brother could not be a king. A king could speak to all things, and orange-crest was not fit to be a king's brother. But he must be a great one, a paragon among his kind, like the mighty big-butt. That must be why he had all the fruit! He protected the hard-skins and mud-grubbers, like big-butt protected his brothers and sisters.
"Three." His brother added another fruit to the pile.
Orange-crest ignored the growing wetness in his mouth and pondered his mighty brother's words. There were more persimmons now, but the sound was different. He'd learned many sounds for things, even other sounds for the same things. Fruit. Food. All these sounds could mean orange-squish-fruit.
"Two." A persimmon was taken away.
Orange-crest's eyes were opened. Entire new vistas opened up before him. How had he never understood this before? More and less could be more more and less more, but they could also less more more!
He reached out, grabbing a fruit directly from his brother's hand. His brother allowed the fruit to be pried from his grasp, but his fingers rose up in clear warning. It was not for eating.
Orange-crest added it to the pile. "Tree!" He proudly proclaimed.
"Yes! That's right!"
Yes was a good-hoot! He knew that one!
"Oo! Oo! Esss! Three! Ess!" Orange-crest cheered.
"Perhaps I underestimated you." Daoist Scouring Medicine mused. "I'd thought the qi within you was the result of a mere fortuitous encounter, but I am impressed by your attitude. You take correction without grudge, and apply yourself with a dedication that shames many men."
Orange-crest didn't know any of those sounds. But he knew his brother was pleased. He stepped foward and reached out for him. His strange brother didn't eat fruit, but every monkey appreciated pats. His black crest had a strange object embedded within it, but it looked similar enough to the king's circlet that he did not reach for it. Instead, he patted his strange loose coat. Orange-crest could see now that it wasn't even a part of his skin. It was like the Monkey King's tiger skin that he wore atop his broad shoulders. He pulled and patted and smoothed until his brother was properly groomed, as a monkey should be.
"Are you... straightening my robe? Who taught you that? Foolish monkey, I'm supposed to be rewarding you for getting answers right, not the other way around."
"Ook. Ooh. Two." Orange-crest took one of the persimmons away and bit into it. Yummy. He missed his brothers, but limitless access to out of season fruits made for a very potent medicine for loneliness.
"You are mocking me. I am losing a battle of wits with a monkey who barely knows as many words as he has fingers." Despite his words, a ghost of a smile played across Scouring Medicine's lips.
"Ook."
His hairless brother showed orange-crest many numbers that day. Many slipped through his grasp, but a seed had been planted. And his newly opened mind was fertile soil indeed.
"Ten."
"Fourteen." Scouring Medicine corrected idly, picking a pair of roots from the pile.
Orange-crest was oft wrong. Big piles were hard. But his brother always knew the right hoot, and corrected him. It was like being a little one again! He watched as his brother picked at his food, using a shiny thin-rock to scrape the edge of the roots. They smelled a little like plant-fire, a little like the worm-root he'd put in his last batch of wine.
Orange-crest reached out to grab one.
"No. Ten-years are expensive. Here, you can have one of these." Scouring Medicine pulled a younger, cheaper, ginseng from a lower cabinet. Orange-crest made careful note of the shelf. It wasn't one of the ones his brother needed to make a gesture in order to open.
Orange-crest stared intently, as Daoist Scouring Medicine did... something. It wasn't brewing. Brewing didn't involve a great rock with a heart of flame. There was a great secret here, greater even than his brewing.
All monkeys were greedy. Some were greedy for food. Others for mates. Some hungered for everything. Others were simply greedy for sleep, and lived for seasons of ease when they could laze about all summer.
Orange-crest was greedy for secrets above all other things. And this, he suspected, was a secret worthy of a king.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the third day, orange-crest was introduced to another hairless one. This was a problem. It meant that his brother needed a name. His brother needed a good name though. Orange-crest would need to think about it.
Orange-crest stared deeply at the two daoists. Thinking was hard. He was always so tired lately. His belly was full, and his head even fuller, always with the buzz of that constant pressure. It was like being sick, but the world was clearer even though it was foggy. He wanted to go forth and explore, but his brother was a boundless font of energy. He was always showing him things, or doing things worth watching. Orange-crest was waiting for him to fall asleep, so he could sneak out and explore. But he needed to sleep far more than his brother! What unfairness! Hairless ones were supposed to be week and slothful.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"He is remarkably well behaved. You're certain this was a wild monkey two days ago?" Daoist Enduring Oath asked.
The new hairless one was large. Orange-crest was not a big monkey. He had only seen a few winters. Five, or six perhaps? Counting was easy now, but several winters blended together in the mists of his memories. He was grown, but even grown he was small. Standing tall like a tree his head barely made it up to his hairless brother's chest.
This new hairless one was bigger than his brother by a similar margin. Great muscles shifted beneath his weather-worn hide. Softly he moved, a gentle demeanor for a hairless one who could exchange blows with a raging big-butt and not be found wanting. And he was the most hairless of all the hairless. He didn't even have a crest! His head was so shiny, Orange-crest reached out to touch it. All shiny things needed touching.
Daoist Scouring Medicine absent-mindedly grabbed his monkey by the scruff of it's neck, pulling it back to his side.
"As opposed to what, an escaped pet? I think I would have noticed if I'd picked up one of the emperor's trained monkeys. I found him upon Mount Yuelu. Perhaps there spirit beast that rules there has exerted more of a civilizing influence than we thought. And he's well behaved because there's little edible in your workshop. Still, put something shiny out and I'm sure I'll be returning it to you later."
Scouring Medicine paused.
"Possibly after a soak in vinegar. He does seem a little confused about the bounds of edibility."
Daoist Scouring Medicine felt like a madman. A week ago he had shared tea with the Sectmaster and a pair of high lords. Men whose opinions even the emperor must consider with due care. Now, he shared tea with an ascetic and a monkey. Still, it was gratifying that he had not fallen so low he could not find company within the sect at all.
"Stop that." He muttered, catching the monkey's hand as it crept towards his tea. "You already have a teacup."
Scouring Medicine was sure the bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He just wanted attention.
"That beast is rumored to be a monkey as well, yes? And a fairly powerful one. Do you think it would come for him?" Daoist Enduring Oath asked.
"Invade the sect? Don't make me laugh. If it was half that mighty, it would have claimed the valleys around the mountain for it's territory ages ago. It's no River King or Stone Feathered Stag."
Orange-crest was getting bored. Names were hard. Tea was not very good. He'd eaten too many bitter leaves during lean years. Hot leaf juice was novel, but not attractive.
He grabbed the little pot of honey on the table and made a run for it.
"Eeeeeek!" If he couldn't be stealthy, he would be loud. Everymonkey knew loud things went faster.
"There he goes." Daoist Scouring Medicine sighed.
"Relax, I can afford more honey. Money means little to me, and the beast appreciates it."
"You'd best check your workshop. If there's trouble to be found, he will find it."
Daoist Enduring Oath laughed. "I locked everything up the moment you told me what exactly the 'project' you were bringing over was. If it's out, it's either too heavy for him to lift, or something I would not mind replacing. So what if he sneaks a chisel? I have hundreds."
"The consequences on your head be it."
In another room, Orange-crest stared at the steel-stick he clutched. It was thicker than the thin shiny-rock his brother had used to peel the roots that smelled like the worm-root. It's heft was pleasant in his hand. It felt sturdy, sturdier even than a larger rock would. It was a little sticky. He hadn't licked all the honey off his fingers yet. He looked around him. The most-hairless-one had a smaller cave than his brother's. But it was still filled with so very many little nooks and crannies. Nooks and crannies the tip of a steel-stick would fit right into. Hefting his chisel, he began to sniff them.
In the tea room, the daoists continued their civilized conversation, blithely unaware of the misfortune slowly descending upon them.
"I still cannot believe you are doing this." Daoist Enduring Oath said slowly. "I thought I was supposed to be the stubborn one here. When you first arrived with the monkey, I assumed it was a passing madness. That the reality of training a wild animal would soon dissuade you. You, with your fastidiously organized workshop and elegant tastes, are the very last cultivator I would have expected to pick up a pet monkey."
Scouring Medicine sighed.
"In truth, I half expected myself to abandon the project quickly. I was not myself that night, I left the sect largely to keep myself from saying or doing something I could not take back."
"Still, it's a monkey."
"It is indeed a monkey. Shockingly well behaved for a wild animal, but a monkey all the same. It keeps trying to taste every pill ingredient I handle. I've had to outright cease working with anything poisonous to mortals while it is present, lest it try that cabinet before I lock it again."
"You've heard, what they're saying about you below?" Enduring Oath wore a pitying expression. Scouring Medicine hated that it was not unearned.
"No, but I can imagine it. I'm sure it'll be even worse, once they find out about the monkey. Still, I find myself caring little. What good to me is reputation when I am forbidden from teaching or treating anyone? My name and career within the sect are already ruined, unless I find a way to cure the Zhang boy."
"You've no luck on that front then?" Enduring Oath asked.
"Stop, before you send me into a another rage. The idiot remained in that bath for three days, when one would have been pushing his fortune. He stopped feeling pain not because he was 'tough as the roots of mountains', but because the caustics had already destroyed portions of his nerves. It's not just his skin, his muscles are as much steel as flesh now. Neither exercise nor cultivation will improve his mobility, without a reformation level breakthrough. I need to use the fullness of my qi just to get needles into him."
"I see."
"To fix that sort of damage? It's far beyond my medicine, unless I invent a specialized treatment whole cloth, or find the core of a mighty yaogui with a similar constitution. And he does not have the talent to attain core formation, let alone while so crippled, no matter what resources we grant him."
"So you're giving up?"
"Giving up? Have you heard a word I said? Are you giving up on ascending to immortality? It's not impossible. One day, it will be within my grasp. But I'm not a child, I can see the truth of my fortunes. You should distance yourself from me while you can. I fear I will be little better company than my monkey for a long while, and my reputation will only fall further."
Daoist Enduring Oath tipped back the dregs of his small mug in a single gulp. He poured another.
"Should I change my name to Daoist Seasoned Operator then? Or perhaps Daoist Profit Seeker? I owe you a great debt. I cannot resolve your ill fortune, but I can at least offer a friendly ear." Daoist Enduring Oath smiled. "And, I suppose, help you avoid losing your pet monkey."
"It is done, then?"
"Aye. It just needs a final fitting. He's a mite smaller than I expected, but that's not a bad thing. The magic will allow it to grow with him."
"Shall we adjourn to the workshop? See what the damage is?" Scouring Medicine cast back his own mug of tea. A waste, but he knew the little devil was up to something. Truly, he was a little shamed by Enduring Oath's hospitality. An ascetic martial artist and craftsman served better tea than his alchemist guest. A pity they were so rushed.
"It's been but two marks on the sundial. I think your grim fortune of late is coloring your perception." Enduring Oath joked.
The sound of cracking wood echoed from the workshop.
Daoist Enduring Oath winced, and slammed back his second mug in it's entirety, heedless of heat or waste. They rose as one.
The two men found orange-crest lounging in a small heap of steel-grey sand. Tiny blue flecks shimmered like stars amid the expanse of the metallic grey. His brilliant fur was coated in the stuff. The shattered remains of a panel of lacquered wood rested by his side.
As the daoists watched in mildly horrified curiosity, he continued licking himself clean.
"Ek?" He hooted in confusion. Why were the hairless ones watching him? Was he more interesting than their conversation? Truly, the hairless had the most interesting little crevices in their caves. Maybe they had come to explore as well.
"Poisonous?" Scouring Medicine broke the silence first.
"Not really. It's joinery compound. Ground pig iron, forging salts, spirit stone dust."
Daoist Scouring Medicine shrugged.
"He'll be fine then. He is a beast after all, eating spirit stones is their prerogative."
"Locks of mere steel?" Scouring Medicine continued with a smile. "I did warn you. This is precisely why I take the time to inscribe the Ironwood Binding Formation on all of mine."
Daoist Enduring Oath grabbed the monkey by his scruff.
"Eeek!" Orange-crest screeched indignantly as the big man brushed him down with his meaty palms. Grooming him so roughly! He barely knew the hairless one. That was the height of rudeness! Only a parent, king, boss, or mate should be so familiar with him!
Orange-crest's eyes widened as he considered the potential implications of these facts.
"Ooo! Eeek! Ek ooook! Ooooooo!"
Despite the monkey's protests, the daoists easily manhandled him. Enduring Oath beat the beast like a rug, extracting the valuable powder from his fur. He thought himself gentle in the work, but the beast screamed like an animal possessed.
"Apologies, little monkey. But you brought this upon yourself."
When he finished, and turned his attention to sweeping up the mess, orange-crest hid behind his brother. Clutching at his hairless brother's thigh, he cringed away from the big bald one. Amorous or domineering, he wanted no more to do with the man.
"Disciplining my disciple. How bold you have become, Daoist Enduring Oath."
"Your disciple! He's a monkey, you cannot be serious!" For the first time in their conversation, Daoist Enduring Oath truly feared for his friend. A little eccentricity was one thing, but it was becoming clear his good friend's disillusionment with the sect ran far deeper than he had expected.
"I believe we have covered this matter in depth. He is indeed a monkey."
"He just ate my joinery salts. His droppings will shimmer for days."
"Is that really any worse than what Disciple Zhang did? At least my monkey has the excuse of not understanding the elegant tongue."
"You cannot be serious. A pet is one thing. That would be an insult to the honor of the whole sect."
"I haven't yet fallen so low that I have lost the privilege of adding a mortal to the rolls of the outer sect. If the Sectmaster insists on pandering to men with the intelligence of monkeys, I see no reason why we should not teach monkeys as well."
"He won't like that. Nor will the elders."
Daoist Scouring Medicine smiled.
"I find that I no longer care. They preach virtue and the severance of mortal ties, then kowtow before venal merchants. If the sect will neither allow me to teach or practice medicine, or release me from my oath, I will give them reason to reconsider."
"Brother, I will not tell you this plan is madness. You seem well aware of this. But, have you considered that you are playing with the life of a living being? This monkey had a place within the order of the Dao before you plucked it away."
"Is the world of cultivators any crueler than mortal nature? Will the Sectmaster show him more mercy than a tiger would? Did I sow ill-karma with my treatment of Disciple Zhang, or did he earn his own misfortune? We're all playing with living beings here. I have simply become less certain that men understand these stakes better than monkeys."