Li Xiaohao, seeing Sakurako out of danger, threw a sharp, angry word over his shoulder and walked far away. Only Sakurako remained, sitting by the pool with the band of golden-furred monkeys, lost in thought. The monkey that had narrowly escaped death now nestled by Sakurako’s leg, meticulously preening its newly restored coat with an air of perfect ease.

Just then, a low, mournful cry drifted from the woods—a sound like a child weeping, yet layered with a deeper sorrow. Sakurako got up and followed the sound, discovering a very young monkey huddled alone on a low branch. Its eyes were rimmed with tears, seemingly recounting its tragic fate of abandonment, or perhaps begging for sympathy. Seeing the frail little body, Sakurako recognized it as the very infant that the mother monkey had thrown from her back earlier, intended as a sacrifice for Xing'er’s feeding. It had failed its communal duty and was discarded on its own.

For reasons she couldn't quite articulate, Sakurako had felt a surge of rage when she first saw the infant being offered up, secretly condemning the mother monkey for violating the sanctity of motherhood. Now, seeing the little one utterly alone, she couldn’t help but be reminded of her own Xing'er, imagining how utterly desolate and helpless he must be. A wave of deep regret washed over her; she blamed herself for letting anguish cloud her mind and doing something so irreversible.

There is an idiom, Tóng Bìng Xiāng Lián (shared suffering breeds empathy), and it perfectly described Sakurako and the little monkey at that moment. The look in Sakurako’s eyes was profoundly mournful, and the little monkey gazed back at her with an equally desolate expression. Then, without thinking, Sakurako reached out her hands toward it. To her surprise, the small creature showed no fear; with a quick scramble, it leaped into her embrace, clutching tightly onto Nangong Ying’s neck with its tiny paws, its small face pressed firmly against her chest—an image of maternal tenderness and filial devotion. This was right; there is no one truly irreplaceable in this world; it is by embracing benevolence that one can recover what has been lost.

From that moment on, Sakurako became the little monkey's mother, naming him Congcong. During the day, Congcong would scamper and play wildly among the treetops with the other young monkeys, but at night, he would return to Sakurako, curling up to sleep beside her.

Because of this unusual maternal bond, Sakurako seemed to be accepted by the entire monkey troop. They led her to a cave and taught her where to find fruit, gradually helping her adapt to life in the Sea of Lost Souls and establishing a home there. The large monkey, Da Mao, who had brought Sakurako from the Original Shadow Villa, occasionally acted as a messenger between Little Hao and Sakurako, bringing her daily necessities and clothes from the Villa. However, this was strictly limited to material exchanges; the two never saw each other again, both hearts still shadowed by the disappearance of Xing’er, unwilling to engage in further conversation.

An unknown amount of time passed in this quiet, unremarkable existence. One day, Sakurako was washing her hair by the Spring of Immortality, meticulously combing through her long, dark locks with a peach wood comb. Suddenly, several monkeys burst from the woods, barking and chattering wildly toward her. Startled by the sudden commotion, Sakurako was about to stand up to investigate when a large monkey grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the edge of the forest. Sakurako panicked, dropping her comb, and followed the monkey in a run. She only stopped when they reached the shore of the Sea of Lost Souls, where she saw the rolling waves and a horde of spectral fish surging toward the land. Congcong was bobbing in the water, struggling intermittently, clearly about to be overwhelmed by the attacking swarm of phantom fish.