There was a Monkey.

Another Monkey.

And somehow, he was even more monkey-looking than Monkey Boy—if that made any sense. A tangled mess of fur and sharp eyes that flickered with mischief and age, like he'd seen the world turn too many times and still found it amusing.

And gray. His fur was grayish.

He'd mentioned after we saved him from a Snakeman guai as he had us follow him into a cave, in that casual way yaoguai like him always did, that Monkey Boy was just another Mount Huaguo monkey. Said he'd met many of them. His words drifted in the same lazy rhythm I'd heard from every yaoguai before they learned what happens when you cross Monkey Boy—right before he made sure they didn't get to tell the tale twice. But, of course, this guai was different.

He didn't try to kill Monkey Boy on sight. In fact, he was helping him.

It made me wonder how many monkeys had set off on this so-called "quest," whatever twisted journey Monkey Boy was tangled up in. And more pressing… how many had ever found their way back home?

Then, as if to further complicate the mystery, he called himself a "forefather" by rank of birth? Whatever that meant.

We had stumbled across him in an odd way—this odd monkey guai had been hanging from a branch as a snakeman tried to attack him from below. Monkey Boy, in his typical fashion, had ended the snake-man with one swift move, dropping the snakeman like it was nothing more than a nuisance. The monkey guai, seemingly unfazed, motioned for us to follow him into a nearby cave when he'd dropped from his perch.

When we had first stepped inside, the air was thick with the musty sweetness of barrels stacked high, filled to the brim with… wine. He sprawled like a lazy god in the heart of the cave, draped across a mishmash of blankets and a bamboo mat like he was posing for some painter (where's a young Leonardo DiCaprio when you needed him?). Barrels of wine, emptied or nearly so, stood sentinel around him. One leg cocked, the other stretched out with a careless elegance, he propped his head on one hand, elbow sinking into a medium sized stone rock with an air of practiced indifference. His free hand lay idle at his side, fingers curling slightly, as though even in rest, they dreamed of stirring trouble.

A drunken monkey, then. Fitting.

He called himself Shen Monkey, and I couldn't help but wonder if Shen carried some hidden weight in Chinese, some deeper meaning beyond just a name. For whatever reason, it felt significant. Or maybe it was just the drunken ramblings of a monkey who'd had one too many sips from the barrel and decided to name himself with a word that gave him more merit than he deserved.

And he was a strange one to look at. Not that I had a wide roster of monkey yaoguai to compare him to—Monkey Boy being my only point of reference—but this one was different. More… Monkey. His lips jutted out in a way that made his face look almost exaggerated, more monkey-looking, his skin a strange grayish hue, like storm clouds had kissed him, and his hair, wild and wiry, carried the same dull color. His ears were sharp, pointed, while Monkey Boy's were softer, rounded, more human somehow.

He looked like a creature born from ancient forests, something older, wilder—like time and too much wine had eroded away whatever gentleness he might have once had.

But he seemed friendly enough, right? So… maybe talking to him wasn't the worst idea. And maybe…just maybe… he had some answers for me.

I took an imagined deep breath (as I didn't have a body I could feel inside the stone), and slipped from the stone, and stepped into view when it looked like Monkey Boy was about to leave. The air shifted the moment I materialized, like something unseen had been waiting for me.

Just as I appeared next to Monkey Boy, something coiled around my waist—tight, firm, almost possessive.

"Hmm… what a curious turn in this tale…" Shen Monkey's voice broke the silence, a flicker of surprise but no real threat in his tone as he regarded me with sharp, but curious eyes.

I didn't respond right away. My attention was firmly fixed on the thing wrapped around my waist.

Monkey Boy's tail. Of course. It wound around me like a serpent, warm and steady, as if he hadn't even realized he'd done it. His casual claim stung the air with unspoken intent, though whether it was protection or just a new habit that formed because of my previous negligence of jumping out of the stone and charging toward things I thought were nice, I couldn't tell.

I went with the latter, because the moment I looked up at Monkey Boy, standing to my right, his eyes were already locked on me—stern, steady, like he was reading the next reckless move I hadn't even made yet.

I parted my lips to assure him I wasn't about to rush headlong into danger this time, but the words died in my throat. He wouldn't believe me anyway. Why should he? After all, I'd said the same thing before, and then broke that promise without so much as a second thought.

He had every right to look at me like that, every right to doubt me. My words meant nothing now—not when I'd shattered them so easily before.

So instead, I swallowed the excuses, gave him a small, guilty smile, and said, "Sorry. Didn't mean to worry you." The apology hung between us, light as air, but heavy enough that I hoped he'd hear what I couldn't bring myself to say. Not in front of this stranger, at least.

That his trust meant a lot to me.

When I looked to Shen Monkey, his eyes gleamed between us with an odd knowing look as he stroked his chin hairs, his voice slow and gravelly, like the creaking of old trees.

"Curious company—" then he hiccupped "--a monkey and a mortal. But tell me, where hides the swine with his endless hunger, and the river beast steeped in shadowed waters?" Then he chuckled to himself, like he made some sort of joke.

"Ah, but that tale lies buried in the dust of ages." His hand came up, sweeping the air like he was trying to shoo the dust away, before placing it back on his cocked knee again. "And know this—you are not the first mortal to tread this winding path anew."

That made my ears prick up, keen as a fox in a midnight forest. Even Monkey Boy, usually so aloof yet stern when it came to news regarding myself, was watching Shen Monkey with a rare glint in his eyes, his curiosity stirred like embers catching flame.

Heh. Embers.

"There were others like me?" I couldn't keep the thrill from my voice, my curiosity spilling over. I took a step forward, only to feel a tug at my waist halting me. "Did they wear strange clothes? Odd shoes, like these perhaps?" I pointed to my scuffed tennis shoes, distinctly out of place in this world. Unlike Monkey Boy, I wasn't keen on going barefoot—not in this twisted landscape, no matter how strange these shoes appeared to the locals.

…if we were to ever run into locals that didn't try to kill Monkey Boy…

Shen Monkey let out a sigh, punctuated by a hiccup that seemed to catch on a thread of humor, scratching his nose in a thoughtful pause as he eyed my attire. But his gaze lingered not so much on my mismatched shoes as on the clothes Monkey Boy gave me. "Oh, she did indeed," he drawled, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine with a glint that hinted he'd seen more than he was letting on. If he found my attire odd, he didn't say so. "And her hair… just as red as yours, like the color of blood, freshly spilled and steaming on the earth."

She.

She.

Another woman.

She had hair like me. Like the color of freshly spilled blood.

That stopped me in my tracks, as if I'd brushed against thorns I hadn't noticed were there, sharp and unexpected.

Even Monkey Boy felt it. His tail coiled around me, tense as iron, grounding me while his gaze locked with mine when I looked back up to him. I didn't know why I looked to him when I heard this…

Each eye of his flickered like twin embers, probing, trying to read whatever shadows he saw reflected in my own. His look was guarded, layered, reflecting back a caution that felt like it ran bone-deep.

And then, from some wretched place I thought I'd buried, a voice I loathed slithered through the silence, cold and venomous: She was a druggy. And you? You're no better.

I blinked, the sting of that memory cutting into the moment. I tore my gaze away from him, shaking off its grip, pressing that vile thought back into the dark.

But why, of all things, did that have to rise up now, pricking at the edges of a memory I didn't want to relive?

My heart pounded a ragged drumbeat against my ribs, a relentless reminder of every second slipping through my grasp. I drew in a breath that was supposed to be steadying but trembled on the exhale, tasting the raw air, tinged with a faint hint of earth and wine. Now wasn't the moment to wear surprise on my face—not when this Monkey guai, with his shifting eyes and half-smiles, was spilling the answers I'd been chasing. His words slipped like smoke, and I knew they could vanish just as easily. I had to hold each syllable like water in cupped hands, careful and quick, before he decided his amusement no longer lay in being useful.

"Where can I find her now? Is she still here?"

Shen Monkey shrugged, his hand coming up to scratch his ear. "Hmph. I wasn't there to see the end of it, so who's to say? All that wanderin'... some roads are only meant to be walked by one, after all."

Damn it, not this again. "What do you mean by some roads are only meant to be walked by one?"

Shen Monkey shooed his hand at me, then began to yawn. "Bah, does it even matter how that tale ended? You think the stars up there care which way a mortal stumbled or how their story was snuffed out?"

"Snuffed out?" I said with a little more surprise than I intended. He couldn't have meant..

Shen Monkey only waved me off again. His head turned away like he was done with this conversation already. "Their journey's just a flicker in a long night. All that fuss over an ending no one remembers. The only thing that lingers is the taste of wine, so pour and be done with it."

What the hell…

And just like that, the water slipped through my fingers.

My hands clenched at my sides and I felt my eyes narrow on the Monkey lounging before me. "What is it with all of you and your riddles?" I wanted to fling my hands skyward, let frustration crack open the air, but I forced it down. One wrong move, one flash of impatience, and this guai might slip into silence—and I couldn't risk that.

"You can say whatever you want about the stars and dust and whatnot," I began again, firmly, but I kept my voice even, "but I know you know something. So tell me what you know and let me decide if it matters."

I held his gaze, refusing to blink, daring him to say more than just deflect.

Shen Monkey tilted his head, a slow, sardonic smile creeping across his face as he regarded me with that infuriating glint in his eye, somewhere between amusement and indifference. He reached behind him and grabbed hold of a small jug of wine, then took a long, deliberate sip of it, savoring it as though my demand was nothing more than background noise. Bastard.

"Oh, fiery, are we? But listen well, little bird." His voice dropped, as if sharing some twisted piece of wisdom. "You think the answers will fill some hole or make it all clear? Even if I told you, you'd still be lost, because the truth—" he tapped his jug, smirking, "is like this wine. Bitter, fleeting. Doesn't go down easy."

He shrugged, the glint in his eyes hardening. "You keep chasing that ghost of yours, you'll find nothin' but bones and regrets. But if you still think it matters… then maybe you're just not ready to know." He raised his cup, toasting my frustration, before letting out a low chuckle. "Sometimes, the only thing worth knowing is that some things aren't worth knowing."

My hand slapped to my face, my fingers rubbing at the bridge of my nose. "Why is it so hard to give me answers? I'm not asking for the world, just simple answers."

Shen Monkey chuckled, a low, mocking sound as he watched my frustration with a glimmer of satisfaction. "Simple answers?" He leaned further into his rock, his hand thumping against his knee after he sat his wine jug down in front of him with that same insufferable smirk. "Heh, if only the world were that kind. You come here, desperate for truths wrapped up in little packages, expecting wisdom to spill from our lips like water from a spring." He shook his head slowly, as if the very idea amused him.

"Let me tell you something, girl—truth is slippery, messy, and more trouble than it's worth. It doesn't come cheap, and it never comes 'simple.' You think knowing will make it all easier? Clearer?" He scoffed, his gaze hardening. "Half the time, the answers only lead to more questions. Best you learn that now, before you dig too deep and find yourself wishing you'd stayed in the dark."

With a dismissive wave, he lifted the jug again and took another sip of wine, his eyes glinting with mischief. "So if you're looking for simple, you're in the wrong place. All you'll get here are riddles and shadows, same as everyone else. Might as well get comfortable."

"Shouldn't I be the one to decide if I regret something or not. Who gave you the right to dictate what I should or shouldn't know?" I shot back, arms crossing in front of me.

Shen Monkey's eyes gleamed with a sharper edge as he listened, his grin slipping into something almost sinister. He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur, each word laced with what felt like a warning.

"Ah, but that's the trouble with shadows, isn't it? They dance on the edge of your vision, daring you to chase 'em, making you think you're the one in control." He tapped his temple as his wine slouched in his hand, a glint of mischief in his eye. "You think you want the whole truth, that it's yours to claim, but some truths…" He paused, letting the silence settle heavy between us, and that was when something shifted in his dark eyes. A…resolve of some sort. His eyes shifting from both of mine, back down to my attire, to Monkey Boy's tail wrapped around my midsection…"Some truths come wrapped in chains, bound by another's obsession. They don't let go once you've seen 'em."

He leaned back, raising his jug as if to toast some dark secret. "If you're so eager, then look closer—peer into the heart of that obsession, find where it hides in the shadows. Perhaps it's not my right to dictate what you should or shouldn't know. But it is my wisdom to tell you… once you find it, it won't let you go."

With that, he chuckled, a dry, knowing sound that seemed to echo long after he fell silent.

I looked away, letting his words linger. There was a rhythm to them, a weight when he spoke of shadows—each mention…deliberate…

My eyes shifted back to Shen Monkey when he smirked again, his eyes narrowing with a hint of dark amusement. "Ah, you'll come back to this moment, mark my words. When the shadows start closing in, when that obsession you're so eager to chase claws its way into your bones… remember who warned you."

There it was again. Shadows.

He leaned back, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as he took another lazy sip of wine. "But go on, if you're so set on it. Chase that truth, let it drag you into whatever pit you're itching to fall into. Just don't say old Shen didn't try to steer you clear."

I closed my eyes, letting his words ripple through me like a stone cast into still water. Important words—I knew that much, though their meaning swam just out of reach, sinking deep into currents I couldn't yet fathom. Why he veiled them behind layers I couldn't peel away was beyond my grasp. Yet, somewhere beneath the shifting surface, I sensed it—he was trying to help me.

In his own twisty riddly way…

And why I believed that, when every instinct urged caution, I couldn't say. But when I opened my eyes and found his gaze fixed on mine, dark and filled with secrets straining against their dam, I knew he was brimming with truths he dared not speak. Words that trembled on the edge, yet refused to cross it.

So, as I carefully tucked away his words for later dissection, I steered the conversation elsewhere. "So," I drawled with deliberate nonchalance, "you like wine? Got anything I can actually have?" I jabbed a thumb in Monkey Boy's direction, exaggerating my complaint. "This guy won't even let me near his stash—the stingy monkey."

Shen Monkey's mouth fell open, only to curve into a wide grin before he tossed his head back and let out a booming laugh that echoed through the cave. "As he shouldn't! That wine isn't brewed for mortal tongues, my friend." With a dramatic flourish, he sat up straighter and twisted to rummage through a stack of smaller, clay jugs behind him, finally emerging with a green jug clutched in his hand. He presented it to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But if you crave something a touch less… celestial, this one won't… transform a mortal like yourself."

So, Monkey Boy's wine was celestial? I'd known it was magical, sure, but celestial? …Huh.

I took the wine, loosening the cloth tied snugly over its top along with the topper and bringing it close for a tentative sniff. The rich aroma hit me like a wave, warm and heady, curling through my senses. "Oh, wow!" I exclaimed, unable to keep the genuine enthusiasm from my voice. "This smells incredible!"

Shen Monkey's lips curved in a self-satisfied smirk as he leaned back into his lounging posture, every bit the picture of unbothered confidence. "Naturally," he drawled, his tone dripping with smug pride. "I'm the craftsman behind it, after all."

Cradling the jug carefully, I rummaged through my satchel with the other hand. "We don't have much to offer, but we do have some herbs you might find useful."

For his brewing endeavors, if I was lucky.

But with a flick of his wrist and a dismissive wave, he brushed aside the offer. "No need. Consider this one... a gift."

"A gift?"

Shen Monkey gave a little chuckle as he leaned forward to my questioning, yet cautious look I shot his way. "Let's call it a toast—to peculiar encounters and paths that shouldn't cross but did anyway. You've got a fire in you, Little Bird. Consider this wine my way of honoring that blaze… while keeping things interesting."

He settled back, his gaze never quite leaving mine. "Besides," he added, a playful lilt in his voice, "what good is a brewer who never shares a taste of his craft? Even with mortals who tread among deities."

I didn't want him to die—the snakeman, more man than snake, draped in ethereal white robes that rippled like haunted water. He had been the one to strike first, slithering forth with intent through the pond's shimmering depths, the water circled by jagged cliffs and a solemn temple gate watching like an ancient sentinel.

The moment he appeared, I knew there would be no absolution in this fight. Monkey Boy had every right to defend himself. The snakeman's eyes, cold and mysterious, never wavered, nor did the onslaught of strikes that followed. Each motion, a coil of white and fury. Relentless.

Monkey Boy met him blow for blow, fire against cold, ferocity against precision. They danced on the line between life and death with vicious grace, each movement a promise that this would not end quietly.

But there was something different about this enemy. He spoke in riddles—serpent-like truths that twisted around my mind without ever taking hold. His words felt like echoes of a prophecy already lost, meant only for Monkey Boy, leaving me stranded in the silence between their meaning.

Yet, even through the unyielding stone I hide within, I felt it. He was different. There was a pulse, a lament that I couldn't shake. This was no ordinary battle.

It was wrong for him to die. I felt it in the marrow of my bones. A chill that whispered through the air, a grief that tightened my chest. When he fell, it would not be victory. Only sorrow.

When Monkey Boy struck the final blow, the air trembled, heavy with a silence that had no right to be there. The pond stilled, the ripples freezing as if afraid to disturb this final moment. The snakeman fell, robes billowing around him like a ghost's last breath. But he wasn't gone—not yet.

His eyes met Monkey Boy's, their depths like storm-tossed seas, carrying secrets too obscure for me to grasp. "No ill will I bear. I'm merely my brother's eyes and ears. I feign my loyalty to guard this path on the bears order! Your destiny's bleak and stark. In its grip, we share the mark. The Guanyin Temple now lies in cinders, yet the Elder's soul endures. The root of greed ever fosters the stem of suffering."

Then the light in his eyes dimmed, and the world felt a little smaller. A little emptier as he turned to ash, but his words continued onward. "Better to forget the things you truly seek. The three bells… Have you seen them all? Do you, too, desire that which they ceaselessly hold dear?"

And then the Keeper added, his voice echoing all around us. Like always. "The bells? Three bells were set in the mountain since the Black Wind Guai's return, yet no one is allowed to go near them. Maybe the bells have something to do with the temple's burning. His words sound like truth to me, little monkey. Stay sharp and keep a lookout!"

I stepped from the stone as if the earth itself had released me, the water whispering against my knees in reverent ripples. My eyes lingered on the place where the white-robed snakeman vanished, a cold emptiness settling in my chest. When I turned, Monkey Boy's gaze was already on me—unreadable, a mask hiding whatever storm might brew beneath.

Could he sense it—the silent tremor of my unease?

"Are you alright?" The words came softer than I intended. His nod, curt and wordless, drew me back to the snakeman's last stand. As if answers might bloom from the watered ground where he fell, I let my feet carry me closer, ignoring how the water filled my tennis shoes.

"It seems I'm not the only one having riddles thrown my way," I said, my voice laced with a forced brightness, a fragile attempt to pierce the thickening weight between us. This wasn't Monkey Boy's fault. It never was.

"He mentioned bells," I pressed, shifting to face him fully, hands planted defiantly on my hips. "Did he mean the ones I've been ringing? The big ones? Every time, it felt like the forest itself reacted when I rang them, didn't it?"

Monkey Boy nodded again, and I mirrored it, feeling a hollow reassurance. My gaze fell back to the waterlogged earth where the snakeman's fate had sealed. "Why did he fight you to the death?" The question lingered in the air like a specter. "What purpose did it serve?" I turned back to Monkey Boy, hoping he would find more in my eyes than I dared let slip—more than just questions.

"Did you notice?" I asked, my voice low, like a ripple in still water. "There was no true malice in him when he attacked. No 'ill will,' as he put it." When Monkey Boy's only reply was a blink—slow, contemplative—I dropped my gaze to my hands. They were clasped tightly, fingers weaving together in restless motion, as if seeking to hold something fragile that would otherwise slip away.

"I felt it," I confessed, the words tasting raw and vulnerable. "Even through the stone, he wasn't like the others you've faced. He didn't have to die." I forced myself to look at him then, my lips curving into a smile I feared was as thin and brittle as ice. "It isn't your fault," I said, each word meant to carve away any shadow of blame. "Don't think for a moment that I'm saying it is. He struck first; you defended yourself. That's all."

I stepped back, hands finding refuge behind me as I turned my face to the sky, drawing in a deep breath. The weight of sorrow pressed against my chest, but I held it there, cradling it with all its sharp edges. "But it's still sad," I whispered, the words drifting into the wind. "His death… it's sad. Is it wrong to feel sorrow for someone who tried to kill a friend? Is it normal to grieve an enemy? I wish I knew." The question wasn't really for Monkey Boy—it was for whatever might be listening, for the skies, the trees, even the ghost of the snakeman's last breath.

When I looked down again, I moved my hands to my hips, forcing a smile that probably felt like a burst of sunlight cutting through storm clouds. It must have been too sudden, too bright, because Monkey Boy blinked, his eyes widening as if the shift had startled him. He even took a step back. "Alright then!" I declared, my voice ringing with forced cheer. "Let's find that third bell and see what mysteries it hides! Rooby-Rooby-Roo!"

I turned, my eyes zeroing in on delicate curves and intricate carvings of the Chinese gate surrounded by the cliff at the far end of the pond-like area we had found ourself in commanding my gaze—a work of beauty and devotion that the white-robed snakeman had guarded with his life. I raised my arm, intending to point, to say something about its artistry and we should head that way, but I froze.

A whisper. Something brushing against the edges of my senses, like a thread tugging at the hem of my awareness. It pulled me, insistent but soft, to the left. I turned slowly, catching flickers of shadows dancing just out of sight. But when I focused, they vanished, leaving only a new path cutting through the shallow water—a path that hadn't been there before, or maybe one that had simply been waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

Before I realized it, my hand lifted, and I pointed. "I think we should go that way first," I said, more to the path itself than to Monkey Boy. My voice held a note of wonder that I couldn't quite shake. I blinked, as if waking from a dream, and turned back to see him.

His gaze was already on that path, distant and unreadable. When he felt my eyes on him, he turned, meeting my stare. Our eyes locked, and in that instant, understanding passed between us without the need for words (not like we ever exchanged words to begin with). He nodded, a spark of determination lighting his gaze, and I felt the tension in my chest ease. I smiled, letting the warmth of that silent agreement settle over me.

Then I let the magic call to me, drawing me back into the stone around his neck. I watched as he stepped forward, water swirling around his legs, each step taking him closer to the path draped in shadows. Shadows that had lingered just beyond my sight, as if waiting for us to follow where they led.

If you're so eager, then look closer—peer into the heart of that obsession, find where it hides in the shadows.

Just don't say old Shen didn't try to steer you clear.

A/N: Wanted to thank awesomenessomar5 for the kind reviews as well as everyone who has followed/favorited this story on ! I do also post on AO3 and wattpad if you prefer to read on either of those sites more. :)