I hammered my fists against my head, cursing my deep sleep last night—I hadn't even noticed when the monkeys appeared.
Little Shu was crouching on the ground, blinking at me, showing no sign of surprise or pain. I looked at his hands, bound behind his back with coarse grass rope. Given the strength he displayed carrying me down the mountain yesterday, breaking free from that tangle of weeds should have been effortless. He must have allowed himself to be tied up deliberately, to lead the monkeys to their camp. If the monkeys really were taking us to where Xing'er and A'li were, it would save us a lot of trouble. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, without a compass or locator, navigating that jungle was an easy way to get lost. Letting the monkeys lead the way was surely the best strategy.
Looking at the row of furry faces, and recalling the chirping sounds Little Shu had heard last night, I suddenly realized he must have planned this all along—deliberately wandering near the forest edge to lure the monkeys into capturing us. Thinking this, my admiration for him soared to new heights, like the ceaseless flow of a mighty river.
Roughly counting the group surrounding us, there were perhaps fifteen or twenty monkeys. One smaller monkey approached, snatching a length of grass rope. With nimble movements, it flipped my hands behind my back and wound the rope around them seven or eight times, binding me just as Little Shu was bound. I squatted down and squeezed my eyes at Little Shu, managing to extend a hand from behind my back to give him a thumbs-up.
At that moment, the entire group of monkeys chirped loudly, all turning in one direction and bowing their heads respectfully, completely ignoring the two captives squatting on the ground. Unaware of the reason, Little Shu and I exchanged a puzzled glance, attempting to stand up to see what was happening, only to be jumped on from behind by two monkeys who began fiercely beating us.
Dodging the rain of blows, I mused that these monkeys were nearly as sophisticated as humans—they possessed thought, society, tools, and the use of violence. Their only failing was being two sizes smaller. Otherwise, even if they left the Sea of the Departed Spirits and ventured to human-inhabited lands, they could easily establish themselves as overlords.
However, human society possessed tranquilizer guns and hunting apparatus. If they truly left the Sea of the Departed Spirits and came to our world, perhaps the ones currently imprisoned would be them, not Little Shu and me. I might end up being a zoo director, managing the daily needs of this monkey clan, spending my days teaching them to jump through hoops.
I indulged in this Ah Q-like daydreaming. The monkeys before us stirred again. They lowered their heads one by one and stepped aside, creating a clear path down the center. A massive, imposing monkey, over a meter tall, walked in from outside the circle, head held high, tail erect.
The creature possessed an undeniable presence; it was clearly a leader. With a raised brow, it approached Little Shu and me. Perched atop our necks, we could only stoop over, heads bowed, struggling to lift our eyelids to look up at it.
It did not touch us but stood fixed before us for two seconds, chattering briefly to the other monkeys beside it. The two monkeys riding on our backs promptly fumbled with the ropes binding our hands and untied them. My heart leaped with joy, thinking the treatment had changed—captives turned into guests.
Yet, this thought only lingered for two seconds before the situation took a sharp turn for the worse. Two large, white-furred apes leaped out from behind the leader, carrying two dark, shaggy rings. They quickly placed these rings over our heads, fitting them snugly around our necks. The small monkeys on our backs hopped down, straightened the grass rope, tied one end to the ring, and respectfully handed the other end to the white-furred apes.
The two white-furred apes turned around with imposing grandeur, gripping the ropes, their rear ends sticking out, and began to drag Little Shu and me forward.