Hou returned two weeks later. A little taller and a little thicker. He bragged about his new role of guarding the peach orchard.

  I laughed. “Do they know how much you love those peaches?”

  He winked. “I neglected to tell them.”

  “This isn’t going to end well, is it?” I asked. I held my tongue about what I’d heard in the palace the night he left. Those words would send him into a rage but, more importantly, they would hurt his feelings. Instead, I placed my hand on his arm while we sat together on a low tree branch. “Don’t leave again,” I said. “It’s lonely without you.”

  He stared at my hand, before covering it with his own. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut short when someone yelled my name.

  As Muzha wandered into view, Hou bristled beside me. The hair on the back of his neck rose as his eyes narrowed. From the depths of his throat a low growl grew.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I know him.” I hopped down from the branch, Hou landing behind me.

  The smile faded from Muzha’s face as he stopped. “What is he doing here?”

  “I have every right to be here,” Hou said, stepping between us.

  “In the stables, maybe,” Muzha said, “or guarding the fruit. But what are you doing here, Bi Ma Wen?”

  Hou barred his teeth, his tail flicked in warning.

  “Please,” I whispered, “The only way he wins is if you react.”

  He glanced toward me before spitting at Muzha’s feet and storming away.

  I took a heavy breath. “Is there something you need, my lord?”

  Muzha looked smug and I wanted to punch him. “I wanted your assistance with one of the horses.”

  “Did one of them escape?”

  “No, nothing like that,” he said, scuffing his foot on the ground. “I want you to ride with me.”

  I froze and considered either vomiting or running. Muzha may have appeared only a few years older than me, but I knew it to be thousands. He was popular with the fairies and young goddesses and, whether he knew it or not, was infamous for his casual disregard and cruelty. Nothing good would come from an association with him. I took a step backward, deciding that vomiting would take too long, and prepared to run.

  “Leave her be.” A feminine voice came from behind me, and I dropped to my knees as the Empress came into view. She lacked her attendants but was donned in her usual regal robes.

  Muzha bowed deeply. “Empress?”

  “She’s too young and too fragile. Find your amusement elsewhere,” she said dismissively. “Be on your way, Muzha.”

  He gave a curt bow and vanished around a hedge.

  “Pick yourself up,” she said.

  When I stood, the great goddess was gone and Hou stood in her place, cackling wildly.

  I brought a hand to my thudding heart. “Hou?”

  He laughed, barring his teeth. “Did you see his face?”

  Hou’s laugh was infectious, and it took several minutes to compose myself. “Why did you do that? Imitating one of them could get you punished.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t like him. You don’t need friends like him,” he said, then scratched his chin and added, “You don’t need friends other than me.

  “Does my friendship with Lung Nue bother you?” I asked as we walked toward Guan Yin’s palace.

  “No. She’s nice to me.”

  “What about Shan Tsai?”

  “Hm, you could do without him,” he said.

  “He is my friend too,” I said.

  “You are my only friend here,” he said. “So, I should be your only friend.”

  I stared at him. “Hou, that is not friendship. You must share your friends, or you might lose them.” I lowered my voice. “No one likes being controlled.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  He frowned, opened his mouth to reply but then shut it again, considering my words. We walked quietly side by side until it was time to return to my rooms.

  Each day was the same, though my morning meditations with Guan Yin were now teachings on understanding qi and the subtle balances of yin and yang. She gave me stances and forms to move the energy through my limbs and organs until my head ached from concentration and my belly burned with fire. Muzha didn’t ask me to go anywhere with him again but would occasionally seek me out for one reason or another.

  Hou often tapped at my window after sunset, and we’d walk under Chang e’s moon and talk about what we’d done that day. I didn’t ask how it was going with the orchard, the fairies complained that he was rude and refused to share the peaches. When I asked him about it, he grew defensive.

  “Do you want me to go hungry?”

  “There are other foods to eat.”

  “I like peaches,” he said, then sighed. “There’s a banquet tomorrow night. Do you want to come with me?”

  “I wasn’t invited. It wouldn’t be wise for me to go without permission,” I said sheepishly.

  Hou shrugged. “I wasn’t invited either. We could go together.” He puffed up his chest. “I could protect you, if you are worried.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t risk it.”

  He huffed. “Would you go if Muzha asked you?”

  “What?”

  “I bet you’d go with him,” he said. “He’s not human either, you know, just because he looks more human than me doesn’t mean he is.”

  I glared at him. “No, I still wouldn’t go.”

  “I bet you would,” he muttered.

  My face grew hot. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “I thought we were friends.”

  He stood a little taller, slipping an image of a handsome young man with dark hair between us. “Is this better?”

  I frowned. “No. I like you the way you are.”

  The image fell away, and a warm smile softened his face. “I like you too.”

  We walked back to the palace in awkward silence. It would be years before we would see each other again and I would reflect on that conversation many times. What could I have done to steer his behavior in a better direction? Should I not have told him I liked him the way he was? But, in the end, I had always known his presence in Heaven would be short lived. He was too much of an individual to stay within their constructs and he delighted too much in being difficult.

  The night of Empress Mother’s peach banquet all Diyu broke loose. When the gods arrived, all the food had been eaten, and all the wine was gone. Lung Nue, Shan Tsai and I were ordered to stay in the palace and out of the way while everyone searched for the drunken monkey. There was yelling and screaming from the surrounding grounds.

  I hugged my knees and cried, not knowing if I would ever see him again.

  Everyone refused to speak of the monkey king to me, even after celestial soldiers were sent to bring him back. I heard in whispers that after a mighty battle with one of the gods, he was captured and dragged back to heaven. If I’d known what they did to him then, I would have sat beside that kiln they’d locked him in and offered him a few kind words. But I hadn’t known and Hou had to suffer alone.

  A month later, a familiar tapping at my window woke me. Hou stood in the darkness, his fur singed and his eyes blazing red, looking more demon than monkey or man.

  “Hou?” I scrambled through the window to reach him, but he stepped back. “What happened?”

  “Did you not know?” His voice barely rose above a growl. “What happened to my friend?”

  “No one would tell me anything.” I extended a hand, but he snarled, and I flinched back. “Are you alright?”

  He ran a hand through his dirty fur and shook his head. He studied me, tilting his head like a curious dog, as if seeing me for the first time. He held up a black cord, a vibrant green jade ring dangled from it.

  “I brought a gift.” He tied it around my neck while the smell of his burnt hair made my eyes water. “Jiang Li, do you still like me?”

  I knew the ring was stolen but the air between us was too thick to question. “Yes, Mei Hou Wang, I still like you.”

  “I like you too.” He patted the side of my head sadly, his fingers rough against my skin. “And that is why we can’t be friends anymore.”

  “I don’t understand.” My vision blurred. “What are you saying?”

  “We aren’t children anymore. I will live a long time, and you are just a human girl.” He stroked my hair as his eyes dulled to embers. “If you were to come with me to Fruit and Flower Mountain, you would fade away before a year had passed here. I won’t watch you die, and, because of this, we cannot be friends outside of Heaven. You and I cannot live in the same world.”

  My voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

  “I am leaving and not coming back.” He dropped his hand. “I can’t get attached to something so fragile.” He turned and walked away, his singed tail dragging the ground.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer, so I yelled his name, but he did not reply. I picked up a rock and hurled it at him, striking him in the back of the head. He didn’t acknowledge it.

  “Hou Zi!” I shouted, caught by a rush of anger. “I don’t need you.” I threw another stone, hitting his shoulder. “I have plenty of other friends. I don’t need you.” The next stone missed him by a foot as my vision blurred. “I hope… I never… see you again…you stupid…monkey.”

  My words broke into sobs as he disappeared, and I curled on the ground and wept.

  Soon after Guan Yin scooped me tenderly into her arms. She didn’t discuss Hou nor ask what happened between us. No one mentioned the monkey king for a long time and I, the selfish girl that I am, kept the jade ring to myself, wearing it only at night in case it was noticed.

  #

  “It’s time we spoke about your parents,” Guan Yin said soon after. “The best chance we have of catching them, and the only time they are near each other, is near the end of their lives. Unfortunately, they are either killed by natural disasters, or in brutal battles. Nature is too unpredictable to risk your life. So, that means we must prepare you for battle. Today your training begins.”

  “What about my studies?” I asked.

  “You will study how the world changes and focus on the knowledge needed to survive in it. Your education and chores will continue, as well as your physical training. I have selected a shifu specifically for you.”

  I swallowed nervously. “What if he doesn’t want to train a girl?”

  “The Lady Fu Hao will be pleased to train you.”

  “A woman?” I asked.

  “A general who is well trained in martial arts. She has trained soldiers and won battles. Do not waste her time,” she said.

  “Dianxia (term used for noble lady), I will make you proud.”

  She patted my shoulder. “You must make yourself proud.”