“I'm f-fine,” Malao replied. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “I just need some f-fresh air—”
Hok stood and walked over to Malao. “Why don't you tell me what's bothering you? Are you afraid of Grandmaster's remains?”
“M-maybe,” Malao replied. “D-dead bodies make me n-nervous. And you know how I get when I'm n-nervous.”
“There's nothing to be nervous about,” Hok said gently. “Death is part of life. It's natural. Just put your emotions aside. You'll be all right.”
“P-put my emotions aside?” Malao said. “H-how do I do that?”
“Try a meditation exercise. Remember what Grandmaster always used to say? You must take control of your thoughts and your emotions, or they will control you”’
Malao shook his head. “H-how can I meditate at a time like this? B-besides, those exercises never work for me.”
“They work wonders if you give them a chance,” Hok said. “Cangzhen monks have used them for hundreds of years to separate themselves from their emotions. I'll do one with you, then we'll get Grandmaster. Okay?”
“N-no.”
“Why not?”
“N-no, Hok,” Malao said. “Please—”
Hok raised both hands. “Okay, okay. I'll tell you what, I'll go get Grandmaster myself, but I'd still like your help getting him up the tree. Why don't you go sit out on a limb until I return. We'll see how you feel when I get back, all right?”
Malao wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaky forearm and nodded.
Hok nodded back and drifted out of the hollow without saying more. He disappeared into the undergrowth.
Malao stepped outside and took a deep breath. The night breeze brought with it the smell of smoke from the Cangzhen compound. Malao began to shiver uncontrollably.
I can't do it, Malao realized. I just can't.
He leaped into an adjacent tree. Then another and another. Fueled by nervous energy, Malao raced into the night. When he was tired from jumping tree to tree, he ran. When he was tired from running, he walked. In no time, he was hopelessly lost. Out of breath, his eyes filled with tears, he eventually found himself at the bank of a small stream.
Malao dipped his hands into the cool water and sloshed them around in an effort to relieve his callused palms. It helped some, so he stepped into the stream to cool his bare, aching feet. Extremely thirsty, he bent over to take a long drink, then stuck his face into the flowing water and left it there awhile, soothing his puffy eyes.
After some time, Malao stood and walked upstream until he came to a large willow tree. He climbed into it and nestled himself in a large forked branch, hidden from below by a curtain of newly formed leaves. Exhausted and alone, he drifted off to sleep.
Late the next morning, Malao woke to four eyes staring at him. The eyes blinked, then disappeared behind a wall of willow leaves.
Malao sat up and poked his head through the leaves. He saw two brown macaques racing off through the treetops. A troop of more than one hundred was moving toward the same stream he had waded in before climbing the tree and falling asleep.
After what he had been through, Malao was in no mood to tangle with a monkey troop. Sometimes macaques could be aggressive. Malao hopped to his feet, and a tremendous racket erupted beneath the willow. He looked down and saw three monkeys standing around the base of his tree, scolding him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Malao noticed a fourth monkey approaching. It was pure white and larger than the others. It looked like it might weigh almost as much as Malao did. The white monkey began to pace back and forth on bent legs and straight arms below the willow, its thick thigh muscles and forearms bulging. It barked out orders, and different groups of monkeys responded accordingly. Some drank from the stream, while others kept an eye out for danger.
As Malao stared, the white monkey looked up at him and bared its teeth. Malao saw that it had only one eye. He also saw that it had four razor-sharp fangs, each as long as his thumb. He knew what those were for. Malao grabbed hold of the decorated stick tucked into his robe and began to pull it out.
The white monkey zeroed in on the movement. Its icy eye locked on Malao's. The other monkeys stationed beneath the tree stared, too.
Malao stopped. He knew he usually reacted aggressively to aggressive actions like someone raising a weapon, so he decided to do just the opposite. He slowly removed his hand, leaving the weapon hidden. Then he sat back and did his best to relax.
To Malao's relief, the monkeys below relaxed, too. The white one even stopped pacing. Still, the white monkey and the enforcers remained beneath the tree with their eyes glued to Malao.
Malao scratched his head. The monkeys’ behavior confused him. He had never seen a group of macaques as militant as this. And he had certainly never seen monkeys on the ground keeping an eye on a potential enemy in a tree. It was usually the other way around.