Hou Zi quickly became my favorite friend. Whenever I had a break in my schedule I would find him, sometimes in the stables but, more often, doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Climbing sacred trees, invading the palace kitchens, or slipping through windows. He would often try to give me hair pins, or fine slippers, but I refused them when he would not tell me where or whom he took them from.

  We both grew taller and stronger. He whispered secrets that he didn’t tell anyone else and spoke of his island home, promising to take me someday. We played games and read books while telling me of his adventures before he came to Heaven. He taught me how to get the celestial horses to like me, but it was obvious they only tolerated me because of him.

  Guan Yin cautiously watched our friendship but did not discourage it. The fairies and sprites whispered of his arrogance and tempers flared at his neglecting his duties. When I asked him about this, his response was classic Hou Zi.

  “Who are they to presume they are superior to me? They attempt to humiliate me by placing me in a position below my station. They call me Bi Ma Wen to insult me, but I will show them how strong I am.” He grinned. “Do you want to come with me?”

  Knowing Hou also came with the knowledge that whatever he was planning would not end well. “I can’t. I have a promise to keep.”

  “To Guan Yin?” He shrugged. “She’ll understand.”

  I shook my head, not bothering to counter that she would definitely not understand. “To my parents. If I don’t keep my promise….” I stopped short as his face fell in disappointment.

  He tossed his half-eaten dragon fruit away and I placed a soft hand on his arm. “I want to come with you, but I can’t.”

  He stared at my hand on his arm. “Will you come visit my home someday?”

  I patted his arm. “I promise.”

  He sat a little taller then said mischievously. “Want to see what I am going to do?”

  I shivered. “I’m afraid.”

  He flipped the hair from my shoulder and laughed. “You shouldn’t be. You have always been my friend.”

  “I’m afraid for you.”

  He laughed harder. “Be afraid for them.”

  I shook my head. Still, I didn’t scold him, it was obvious his mind was made up and I knew him well enough to understand that he would not be dissuaded. And if things didn’t go well, I did not want him to harbor resentment toward me.

  “Be safe, Hou,” I said.

  He patted my hand and looked away, his tail flicking behind him. “I don’t know when I will be back.”

  My throat felt thick, the words clumsy in my mouth. “Don’t be gone too long, it’s not the same without you.”

  I had been at my studies for only an hour or so when the heavens erupted in chaos. I rushed from Guan Yin’s palace as the enormous celestial horses thundered across the imperial grounds. Their massive hooves trampled everything in their path as servants and gods alike attempted to reign them in.

  Tianma, the emperor’s favorite stallion, reared up on a servant. Using the sounds that Hou had taught me, I moved toward him as he landed. He nuzzled my hand and snorted at its emptiness. The servant thanked me and quickly ran after another horse as I stroked Tianma’s neck.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “He did this, didn’t he?” I whispered before turning the horse toward the stables.

  A tall figure blocked my way. With his coal black hair pinned in a general’s guan, and cheekbones sharper than a knife’s edge, he studied me as I froze. I knew Muzha strictly by reputation, there was usually a fairy or two that was crying over him every other week. And, although he was stunningly handsome, I already knew that he was too acquainted with its rewards to be trusted.

  “How did you do that?” Muzha asked, he had never glanced at me before.

  I gave a polite bow. “Hou Zi taught me.”

  He sneered. “Bi Ma Wen? He’s the one who released them.”

  I kept my expression passive as he continued to stand in my way. A black horse thundered past but Tianma neighed, and the horse slowed to a trot, circling back to us.

  “You should help round them up,” Muzha said dismissively. I wondered if it was a humiliation to demand assistance from the weakest creature in heaven.

  “Let me take them back and gather some apples,” I said.

  Muzha stepped aside, visibly relieved, though Tianma nipped at him as we passed.

  The rest of the day was spent bribing a dozen horses into compliance. Muzha attempted the words that Hou had taught me, but that only served to irritate the horses. His face reddened each time they nipped him, and I pretended not to notice and stifle my amusement.

  Dirty and disheveled, I lay in bed considering Muzha’s cheekbones and full lips, and I understood a little of why the fairies pined for him. But when I thought of Hou, I smiled. My friend was a talented troublemaker, but no one had been hurt and he had escaped.

  All the gods were summoned to the Jade Emperor’s palace the next morning and I snuck away from my chores to overhear the orders issued against my friend.

  “‘The Great Sage Equal to Heaven’, have you ever heard such blasphemy?” The Jade Emperor’s voice boomed through the palace doors. I covered my laugh; Hou had been demanding that people call him that for years.

  Some of those assembled shouted for his execution, though a few cautioned reason. Taibai Jinxing, known for his diplomacy, advised against rushing into military action.

  “What if force doesn’t succeed? Wouldn’t that harm the reputation of Heaven?” As he spoke the muttering quieted, and it became obvious that, until then, no one truly believed Hou was anything other than a monkey stable boy.

  “What do you suggest?” the emperor asked.

  “Recognize his new title,” Jinxing replied.

  Someone protested but Jinxing raised a hand for silence. “Consider this a meaningless title, take it as a joke, or think of him as a pet if you need to. It will greatly please the monkey and he must be convinced to return to heaven before he causes trouble on earth.”

  After little debate, everyone agreed and Taibai Jinxing left to meet Hou Zi and offer deference--insincere as it was. Guan Yin was waiting for me outside my rooms when I returned.

  “Walk with me,” she said. We strolled through the only gardens left untouched by the horses. The brightly colored sprites flitted around us, playing with my hair, and tickling the back of my arms.

  “What did you think of the hearing?” she asked, not pretending that I hadn’t heard.

  “It makes me sad for him,” I said after some thought.

  “Why?”

  “What he wants most is their respect and yet they refuse to give it. This is worse than being a stable boy, at least that was honest,” I said, shaking my head. “They called him a pet, as if he were not one of them.”

  Our feet kicked along the path as she sighed.

  “He is not one of them, Jiang Li,” she said.

  I turned to her, my voice rising. “Of course, he is. He is immortal, he is powerful. He can move between the realms.”

  “But he does not submit to the same constructs that we do. He is disobedient and selfish. How can he be one of us when he does not try to be one of us?”

  I quieted, that was not the Hou I knew. “So, he must submit in order to earn their acceptance?”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “But perhaps not even then.”

  “I think Lao Tzu would disapprove,” I muttered.

  Blue and green sprites landed on the petals of a white lotus when we neared a pond. They watched Guan Yin as she spoke.

  “Tell me what you know of the lotus.”

  “It’s resilient, prefers clean water but can grow in mud. It can be eaten or used for medicine,” I said.

  “Did you know that the lotus represents connection between the earth and heaven? It grows from the darkness toward the light,” she said. “Some people see it as the spiritual journey of the soul, from egotism to something more.”

  I studied the flower. “What are you saying?”

  “Hou is still in the mud, but he will rise toward the surface.” She stroked my hair. “All he needs is a bit of sun to lean toward.”

  I bit my lip, thinking. “Are you saying that everyone else, all the other gods, have already risen to the surface?” That thought contrasted with the behaviors I had seen. They were angry and secretive, often petty and mean. Hou, Lung Nue, Shan Tsai, and Guan Yin were the only ones I cared for.

  She shook her head. “No, they are no better than him. And their beliefs that they are is only egotism.” She patted my hand. “Hou Zi will suffer, but he will fare better knowing he has a friend here.”