Orange-crest was chewing on the past, but he struggled to swallow it. Every time he tried, it stuck in his throat, strangely tough and resilient, unwilling to pass onwards. He knew not how else to describe it. Monkeys did not dwell in times other than the now. They lived, and time passed as it would. When they revisited the past in the confines of their mind, it was always a brief visit. A spark of inspiration, a reminder that a strange thing had been seen before, and resulted in weal or woe. A rare remembrance of those who had passed on, fallen to danger, or lost their grip on the increasing slippery branches of the tree of time.

This was different. As he sat in the paltry shade of a gnarled pine, enjoying the way the gentle breeze bathed him in light and shadow alike, he turned over the day before yesterday from every angle. The day his master had left him with the pack in the glade.

He could have died.

It was a strange thought. He'd known many sharper dangers. Been cornered by a tiger. Embraced by dark waters, so cold they his life had continued to fade even after he'd climbed free. Eaten bad fruits in a lean year, struggled to rise with limbs as heavy as mountains.

Twice, with the water and tiger, only the timely aid of his king had saved him.

But, he had not died. He'd learned. Avoided the cracking of ice and the grim stillness of a tiger's ambush ever after.

Yet this time, though he had learned much, this past day refused to pass by him as it should. The tall-one who led the pack had pinned him with effortless ease. But, had he been wrothful instead of order-making, orange-crest could not have opposed him. His brother's rage afterwards might have been terrible, but orange-crest had been helpless.

Orange-crest realized he did not understand hairless ones. He'd known this before, but it felt different now. Like he understood the shape of the absent knowledge, not merely it's presence. There was a Way here, just like there was a Way on Mount Yuelu. But the Way was different here. The rules were strange. Pack-mates turned on each other at the tall one's bark. Quarrels sprung up like lightning from a clear sky.

He'd been lucky, that the blue-belted one had been weak. No, that was wrong. He was strong now. Stronger than he'd been. He could rage with strength beyond his small frame. Red-eyes might be stronger than him still, but orange-crest was faster than his volatile older brother now, not just more agile.

The blue-belted one had been stronger than the other young ones. Stronger than orange-crest. All had hinged on the tall one. And the way the tall one bowed his head before his brother.

Perhaps he'd been wrong? His brother was no king, but perhaps he stood higher beneath the heavens than orange-crest had first assumed? Not merely a boss, but a boss of bosses. He'd never seen a boss of bosses, but if a yesterday could have a yesterday, could not a boss have a boss?

Orange-crest spit out the peach pit he had been rolling between his teeth. There. He was not mouth-chewing, so he should stop mind-chewing as well.

He rose, staring out at his hairless brother's domain. The day stretched before him, ripe with possibility. This endless thought was unsuitable for a monkey. For once his brother was not sticking to him closer than his own shadow. It was time to go exploring.

He felt the unwelcome past beginning to return, stalking like a tiger to snare his mind. So he ran, felt the undergrowth crack and squish beneath his toes. He leapt, catching a branch. The trees were good here, verdant and thick, tall but not towering. He flew through the air, branches leaping to his hands of their own will. His limbs propelled him down the mountain with greater ease than ever before.

He reveled in the joy of motion, let his leaps cast him ever higher, each jump more daring than the last. Every tree was new, every glade filled with new secrets.

He turned over a rock, finding a new sort of worm beneath it. At first, he thought it was a normal worm, but the further he dug, the more surprised he was to discover that there was seemingly no end to this worm! It was so long! Almost like a snake, but far thinner. Thinner even this his littlest finger, as normal worms were. Orange-crest released the half-unearthed long-worm. To his surprise, it didn't fall backward at all. Instead it stood proud, like a tree in the wind, gently wiggling. As he watched, it steadily grew shorter, sneaking back into the earth with profoundly un-wormlike haste.

Even the worms of this place were strange!

Wrapping his fingers round it, orange-crest pulled the long-worm from the ground and made a snack of it. It was pleasantly earthy, but remarkably tough for a worm. If you chewed it long enough, the salty-meaty taste gave way to an aftertaste that tasted like wet leaves smelled. What a delicacy! He would need to find another, for his brother to enjoy. Even the king would appreciate these!

Orange-crest continued to explore, enjoying the warmth slowly spreading from his belly. His heart-fire, the strange good-heat that had dwelled within him since the night he met his hairless brother, flared in response.

One fire fed another, and the great fire burned away exhaustion in his limbs. Another thing he did not understand, but a good one. He would have to find more treasures and delicacies, like the worm-root, or the odd salty-fiery dust of the shiny-headed one.

As orange-crest roamed across the grounds of the sect, he found a strange feeling growing within him. It was not the sharp-bad-hurt of grief, nor the creeping-prickling-weight of fear. His belly was fuel, the land before him was verdant and wonderful. Yet though the sunlight warmed his fur, it did not embrace him as it should. Something he could not name was missing.

He found his mind returning to his brothers and sisters. Every time he passed a soft patch of deep-grass, he imagined the titanic form of big-butt curled up like a great red-grey boulder. A rustle in the trees drew his eye, reminding him of the stealthy quick-fingers. But it was only a small bird, a distant smudge of sunset with a crest as bright as his own.

His ears pricked up of their own accord, tingling with heart-fire. The wind delivered to his ears what seemed like all the world. Droning and buzzing, sharp cries and mysterious hums. But not a monkey to be heard.

"Oooo." Orange-crest intoned solemnly. He was far beyond far from home, but perhaps his king would hear him. There were none with ears better than the king.

"I swear, it's right around here."

"Brother Wang, if this is another wild hare chase..."

"I swear it is not, Brother Hao. I've been here a dozen times, it's how I've been able to advance my cultivation so quickly. You know I used to be the weakest in our class! I just took a wrong turn, the light is different today."

"Hmmph."

"Hmmph." Orange-crest repeated. That was a fun sound. He wondered what it meant.

Following his ears, the monkey followed the sound-trail of the two disciples. Perhaps if he watched them from a distance, he could deduce the Way on this strange mountain.

"It's right through this crack! See, it's just like an immortal cave from the stories. An unclaimed spirit spring!"

"Incredible! You can feel the qi from out here! It's even better than a spirit stone! But where does it come from?"

"Further within, there are little holes in the stone. I think it comes from deep within the abyss of the earth. It's warmer than the Fathomless Well though, and nobody comes to kick you out even after days!"

"So tight!"

"Don't worry, it only widens from there."

"It's... Cold."

"Only compared to the heat of day. It's nothing we can't handle."

The voices became quieter, as if they were out-running orange-crest. He redoubled his speed, trying not to be left behind.

"You remember the deal?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll watch over you during your breakthrough. There's nothing back in there?"

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"We should check, since it's been a few days. But it's always been just more cave. You only need to watch the entrance."

Orange-crest came upon a great cave. The hairless voices emanated from within, but so too did a sense of cold foreboding. He didn't like this cave.

"See, empty."

"Very well. Take your pill. I can't wait to try cultivating here! I've been stuck at the peak of the first stage for so long!"

"Don't let your guard down. I'll be vulnerable while I'm breaking through, and if I waste my Meridian Opening Pill because of you I'll never let you forget it."

"Yeah, yeah. Relax Brother Wang, I'll protect you."

"You better."

Orange-crest was disappointed when the voices stopped. He waited by the ominous cave for them to start conversing once more.

He still struggled to piece together the speech of the hairless, but even though most of it escaped him, he liked it.

Orange-crest realized it wasn't quite his siblings he was missing. It was the way things were on Mount Yuelu. The incessant chatter, the way even when he was alone, he was not really alone. His brothers and sisters never more than a howl away.

He didn't want to go home. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to see and taste and learn. But he wanted more siblings. A monkey was not meant to share his life with a single brother.

The tall and the blue belted ones did not like him. Perhaps these ones would be more like his brother and the big-shiny one.

He waited for a long time, but there were no more sounds from the cave. The monkey shivered at the crack's grim wintery breath, but never once had his fear been stronger than his curiosity.

He snuck-crept in. His fur stood on end as he navigated the generous confines of the entry tunnel.

He took deep breaths of unseasonably cold air. To his surprise, his heart-flame surged in response, giving the chill no purchase in his bones.

Orange-crest found the hairless ones facing each other. One was lanky, but well formed. The was smaller, rounded and soft despite his clear youth. How strange the many varieties of the hairless.

They did not see him, for their eyes were closed. How strange. The cold air moved around them in odd ways, as of a great unseen beast lurked behind their shoulders.

He was less certain about approaching these potential-brothers now.

Then he saw the bags. Nice sturdy material, plump like a good bag should be.

Orange-crest carefully crept around the hairless ones, stealth honed by long practice liberating food from big-butt's sleepy gluttony.

He'd wanted a bag, ever since his brother had taught him the word. He had so many! Bags of hard food-rocks. Bags of black dust that made orange-crest sneeze. Best of all, great sacks of 'sausage', that most savory of meaty delicacy.

But his brother was even greedier than big-butt, and had been unmoved by orange-crest's eloquent entreaties. That was okay. Not everyone could be kind and fair like orange-crest.

Orange-crest gently peeled open the mouth of the bags, and began looking through them. They had rocks! Rocks of the shiniest blue, like the noonday sky confined in a prison of stone.

And these rocks burned with heart-fire.

It is important to understand, that the monkeys of Mount Yuelu had a complex and nuanced understanding of material property. They understood that there were many kinds of ownership. A king could own a mountain. A monkey could own a fruit. But no mere monkey, not even a boss, could own a fruit tree. A monkey could not take a tree with them after all, and if one left something behind, how could they dare claim to own it?

It was different for kings of course. The king owned the mountain, but he owned it in dominion, not in exclusion. His ownership made the mountain better for all monkeys.

A monkey could not get too upset if a treasure he abandoned happened to get up and walk away. As the king liked to say, if a thing was not important enough to watch, how could it be important enough to get upset about when it inevitably disappeared?

It was through this logic that orange-crest forgave his brothers their many trespasses against his wine-trees. And big-butt turned a blind eye towards all the greedy fingers that snuck scraps from his prey.

This all goes to say, that when orange-crest decided he liked these rocks very much, he felt no shame in taking a couple. The two hairless ones had so many of them! And they clearly did not care for them very much.

He put one of the rocks in his mouth. It was pleasantly warm on his tongue, but sadly it did not taste of anything. He had hoped they would be like the white-treasure rocks, which tasted good when one licked them.

Daoist Scouring Medicine watched as his monkey continued to rummage through the two disciple's bags. He'd wondered what had been going on when the beast decided to wait patiently in one spot for the better part of half an hour. He was glad he'd chosen to run the winds over to see the matter with his own eyes.

He'd forgotten about this small cavern, an offshoot of the dragon vein that ran beneath the sect. It'd had a name, among the outer disciples. But it'd been something vulgar, he refused to remember it. Daoist Enduring Oath had cultivated here, a long time ago. Before he discovered the Lonely Chasm, a stronger source of abyssal qi more compatible with the man's yang heavy constitution.

The daoist pondered the situation before him. He wouldn't stand in the way of his monkey making friends. It didn't seem like a likely outcome to him. But then, running across an alcoholic, cultivating, possibly Gu refining, wild monkey hadn't seemed very likely either. But, if the beast wished to steal anyway, he didn't see any reason why it could not serve his ends at the same time.

With a gesture, he activated the Phantom Palm, and pushed over a single precariously placed stone.

One of the disciples bolted to his feet.

"What was that!"

"Take care of it." The other hissed through gritted teeth, eyes locked shut.

"I don't see anything outside. Maybe it's just outside the entrance?" Disciple Hao heard a noise, the breathy rasp of cloth against cloth. He spun, turning.

And found himself face to face with a small orange monkey.

"What."

"What's going on-" Disciple Wang cracked his eyes open. "Son of a bitch!" He swore, as pain shot through him. He immediately shut his eyes again, shepherding his raging qi back towards his dantian.

"It's a monkey. How did you get in here? We searched the cave." Disciple Hao knew exactly how the monkey had gotten in there. But if Brother Wang really was about to break through to the fourth stage, well, Brother Wang did not need to know that.

"Oawaaa." The monkey opened it's mouth, revealing a flash of brilliant blue. Disciple Hao's eyes continued downwards, taking in the second spirit stone clenched in one hand, and the open bag in the other.

"How dare you! Do you have any idea what that is, you little thief!" Disciple Hao roared, the sound echoing oddly in the tight space. He lunged for the monkey, hands extended as much to strike as to grab, but the creature scampered between his legs.

"Kiiii!" It screeched, startled.

"It's got our spirit stones!"

Disciple Hao rushed for the cave's exit. The monkey was still clutching the bag, he couldn't let it get away! That was three months worth of spirit stones!

"I said handle it!" Disciple Wang grunted. Internally, he was screaming. Why had he trusted Brother Hao? At this rate he would have been better off risking it alone! The breakthrough to the fourth stage was much harder than the one to the third, no matter what he did the blockage in his Descending Vessel refused to shatter.

As Disciple Hao dove for the monkey, it jumped to the side. His arms extended, closing around it. Then his leg caught on something far softer than stone, and he fell in a heap.

"Gah!" Disciple Wang coughed up blood. Stuck on his back with Disciple Hao atop him, unable to control his limbs through the raging qi, the blood coated his face, filled his mouth. The red fluid began to froth as he struggled to breath.

"He-Help. Me." Disciple Wang choked out.

Disciple Hao grabbed him roughly and shoved him against the cave's wall, propping him up. His skin tingled from the brief contact, he could feel the sheer volume of power his friend was struggling with. His stomach dropped at the thought this was all his fault.

No, he corrected himself. This was the monkey's fault. His part in the matter was a secret easily buried.

He looked up, but the beast had taken advantage of the moment's distraction. It dashed through the tight crack with ease, jumping through a gap he needed to carefully negotiate.

He gave chase anyway, but his heart was already sinking. He could see the bag jerking to and froe in the monkey's hand, tie undone. Two stones spilled to the floor, but it was a small mercy.

By the time he made his way out of the cave, the monkey had already slipped into the underbrush.

"It's over." He moaned. "This is too much."

Three months of resources. It almost didn't matter which bag the monkey got. He'd have to give his share to his friend all the same. If Disciple Wang still broke through, he would have no choice. Even if he didn't succeed, he would still owe the man a debt for showing him this spirit spring and failing to protect him during his breakthrough.

In two months, he would reach a year with the sect. His allotment would drop precipitously, unless he earned some merits in the intervening time.

He slipped the two stones the monkey spilled into an inner pocket. Damn it all. Even with the spirit spring, he wasn't going to make the fourth stage with two lesser spirit stones to his name.

His chances of placing in his cohort's Initiate Tournament had just vanished like mist before the morning sun.

Whether it took a month or a decade, he swore he would find that beast. Find it, and skin it.

"I'll kill you, you damn monkey!" He roared.

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Orange-crest stared at the bag. He hadn't really meant to take it. Just a few of the stones. They had so many of them, after all.

But he did really want a bag. And he wasn't about to head back to the cave, the quick one was still wailing at the heavens.

He'd been planning on giving the stones back. Even if it was by dirty-luck, they'd caught him with hands full of stone. By monkey law, he was bound to return it. But then the quick one had leapt for him with murder in his eyes!

A well adjusted monkey didn't react to a theft like that. They'd have to live with each other afterwards! If every-monkey leapt to murder over every little disagreement about personal property, why there would be no monkies left.

Orange-crest paused. Perhaps that's why some of the hairless ones lived without packs, like his brother. Because some hairless ones were not merely grab-happy, but grab-violent.

The monkey shook his head, feeling the wind ruffle his fur. Too much thinking.

His chest was getting unpleasantly hot now. He'd swallowed the rock in his mouth in the chase, and though he knew it went down his throat, it somehow felt like it got stuck in his chest.

He found a nice little hollow, and bedded down for a nap.

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Watching from a distant cliff, Daoist Scouring Medicine smiled. The boy attempting a breakthrough would live. And the rumors this would produce, oh he couldn't wait to see the look on the Sectmaster's face when he put all these disparate elements together.

Everything he'd done was in perfect accord with the law. The monkey was blameless for acting like any domineering disciple might. But how much face would it cost the sect, when rumors spread of their monkey disciple that tormented his seniors?