Monkey Ambush

They trekked for three more days.

When tired, they paused for honey-salted water.

When hungry, they lit a fire to cook.

By the fourth day, they started encountering others, catching up to the tail of the group.

Su Qing never dared to be naive.

She understood the danger of holding treasure.

Fearing robbery, she hid the jade token well, kept dry rations close, and walked tightly with her companions.

Xiu Fu and Su Qing flanked Zhu Xing’er, each gripping a tree branch as a walking stick.

It saved energy and added a bit of deterrence.

Everyone seemed to think alike—heads down, hurrying without talk.

Anyone approaching to chat was met with wary glares.

Gradually, human traces vanished.

They were enveloped by layers of wild mountains, green as jade, mist tinged with emerald.

A light rain had fallen the previous night, leaving translucent droplets on leaves.

Thankfully, the soil underfoot was firm—each step steady, no risk of slipping and tumbling down slopes.

Breathing the mountain’s fresh air, they felt cleansed, almost forgetting fatigue.

Su Qing: Lies. Tired is tired.

Even so, her body weary, her eyes stayed sharp, scanning for jade tokens.

But everything was ordinary, quiet, unremarkable.

She climbed trees to check bird nests—nothing but two pecks to the forehead from angry sparrows.

She poked through mushroom patches under trees with her stick, searching thoroughly—nothing.

Zhu Xing’er fancied eating the mushrooms, but even Xiu Fu couldn’t tell if they were poisonous, so they gave up.

Passing a mountain pool, they heard candidates say someone found a jade token in a fish’s belly.

But they couldn’t make rods or nets, lacked fishing skills, and didn’t dare jump in to catch fish.

Those tokens weren’t theirs to claim, so they moved on.

Helping each other—one pulling, another pushing—they struggled to a mountain peak.

Xiu Fu looked ahead at the layered green ridges, sighing in relief: “Good thing there’s a rope bridge. Cross it, and we’re at the second peak.”

The bridge linked one peak to another, sparing them the doubled effort of descending and climbing again.

Soon, something felt off.

The closer they got, the more people they saw lingering at the peak.

This shouldn’t be—speed was key in this race; everyone should be rushing.

As they drew nearer, they saw why.

The rope bridge, stretching hundreds of meters, had been deliberately cut.

It hung limply on the far side, like a broken ladder.

Without the bridge, a bottomless chasm yawned between peaks, passable only by birds or clouds.

Unless they sprouted wings, they’d have to descend and climb again.

Su Qing understood instantly: someone crossed and cut it to block others, ruthless in securing their lead.

The crowd fumed, faces twisted in anger.

“Who’s the bastard that did this? So heartless—hope I catch them!”

“Such a vile trick—inhuman!”

Zhu Xing’er snapped: “How much farther must we walk? My feet are blistered!”

Angry as they were, Xiu Fu shook her head. “We can’t cross here. Let’s head down.”

Su Qing hefted her pack. “Let’s go. Xing’er, if you can’t carry on, give me your bag. I can manage.”

They all knew the truth but lingered, cursing the culprit before trudging glumly downhill.

Who did it?

Easy to guess.

The bridge, built to withstand weight, wind, rain, and time, was strung with hundreds of steel cables, sturdy and resistant to mortal weapons.

But the cables at this peak were sliced cleanly, as if severed in one stroke—surely by a divine weapon.

Among the candidates, who’d have such a weapon?

The second-generation elites, no doubt.

Su Qing was furious but powerless to retaliate.

Best to avoid them, steer clear of any encounter.

With their mid-to-rear pace, they’d likely never meet anyway.

Descending, they probed each step with sticks for safety, avoiding a misstep that could send them tumbling to the base.

They focused on the path, silent, occasionally cursing the bridge-cutter in their hearts.

Suddenly, Xiu Fu spotted a grove ahead, exclaiming: “They say fortune follows misfortune. After that bad luck, here comes a blessing!”

Su Qing looked up—a fruit grove, green branches laden with green-red or purple-red wild fruits, apricot-sized, looking juicy and plump.

Her eyes widened. “Could it be—”

“Fire cherries!”

It was!

Su Qing rushed to the grove, grabbed a red-leaning fruit, wiped it, and popped it in her mouth—sweet-tart and delicious.

She tried a purple-red one—sweeter, rich with fruity aroma.

So good.

She tested a green one, wincing as the sourness twisted her face, making her drool.

Xiu Fu laughed. “We use green ones for dipping sauce, not eating raw.”

Zhu Xing’er shouted: “Stop eating—find jade tokens!”

Su Qing spat out the round pit. “Good stuff. Let’s pick more for the road—vitamin boost.”

She didn’t dawdle, climbing and scouring for jade tokens.

But trees, underbrush, grass—nothing.

“Strange. Were they taken already? Or did we misread the old man’s hint?”

“No way—didn’t he mention fate?”

Su Qing, undeterred, bent low, flipping soil—still nothing.

“Either there’s none, or we’re too late.”

Hope dashed, they felt glum but rallied themselves. “If not here, we’ll find them elsewhere. For now, don’t waste these fruits—they’re great for the road…”

They picked modestly, just enough to eat.

While picking, they muttered: “I feel the old man wouldn’t lie. Maybe the token’s here, and we just missed it.”

“Possible, but we’ve searched everywhere—where could it be?”

Zhu Xing’er, short and tiring quickly, stopped picking, stretching her sore arms and neck.

Her voice dropped: “Who else might come for these berries…”

The question came out of nowhere.

Su Qing looked up; Zhu Xing’er stepped back, shrinking beside her. “What—what’s that?”

They froze, huddling together.

From the dense grove ahead, shadowy figures emerged, one after another.

Pairs of eerie eyes glared, watching.

It felt like one move, and they’d pounce, tearing them apart.

Su Qing recognized them, her voice trembling: “Good news—they’re not human…”

“Bad news,” she swallowed hard, “they look like they’d slap us silly.”

Not human.

Monkeys.

Aggressive, ferocious wild monkeys.

No words needed—the trio grabbed their packs and turned. “Run!”