My uncle simply patted my shoulder and sighed. "Listen to the Chief. He has a heart that leans toward mercy."

I looked around. All eyes were on me—some filled with anger, others with hatred, except Shen Three. He stood near, watching me and my uncle with a strange expression. There was something almost gleaming in his eyes—thrill, maybe even hope. That was odd.

Birds flitted through the peach trees behind the throne, where ripe fruits clustered thick on the branches. They began to chirp. Beside me, the flowers—white-petaled, slender, and fragrant—breathed sweetness into the air.

Everything was at peace. Everything, except my fate.

More and more monkeys gathered in the small plaza before the throne.

Some whispered.

Some gasped. Some sobbed. Some asked questions in hushed voices.

And then, all at once, the noise died. Stillness gripped the crowd. My heart leapt—like a rabbit startled in the grass.

I knew who was coming. Life or death, it would rest on one word—from him. A large group of monkeys pressed in, parting to let a figure through: an old, stout monkey, flanked by two young attendants.

He moved slowly toward his grand, glimmering seat.

A deep, rattling cough echoed across the clearing. I looked up and saw—it was the Chief.

All around me, monkeys bowed their heads low, faces nearly touching the ground. So did my uncle.

"Bow to the Chief. Bow to the Chief, son," my uncle murmured, tugging gently at my left arm. I had to do as he said.

Around us, some monkeys exchanged furtive glances or whispered behind their hands.

Death is always dreadful—always heartbreaking. But what I sensed now wasn't sorrow. It was something else. Something strange. No one looked mournful. No one even seemed upset.

Why?

Did they care so little for his life? Just like they did for mine? It didn't make sense.

At last, the coughing ceased. The Chief spoke.

"Tell me what happened."

His voice was low, hoarse, but carried an undeniable authority — like a stone slowly grinding through time.

I looked up briefly, then lowered my gaze again. His face... it was as if carved from white rock—pale and hard, every wrinkle deep as a crack, each line like a crack in stone, unmoving and timeless.

It was Shen Three who stepped forward first.

"My lord," he said, bowing slightly, "I regret to trouble you with this... but it concerns the stone monkey."

The crowd stilled. All ears turned to him.

"As you know, we lost three young monkeys a year ago.

I dared glance at the Chief again. He stared far away, out toward the distant sea, as if the world before him held no interest.

"They were lured into the West Mountain," Shen Three continued, "because of something he told them... about a Fairy Peach."

Suddenly, the Chief's gaze snapped back, sharp and swift—like an eagle diving for prey.

"Say that again," he said.

Shen Three's voice rose，with a thread of excitement . "My lord, the stone monkey claimed he had found the Fairy Peach. Three of our young ones followed him to gather them. That was the last time they were seen. Now, the stone monkey returns—alone."

A long silence.

Then—"Where is the Stone Monkey?" the Chief roared. "Bring me my dearest little Stone—now!"

Gasps erupted around the plaza. Then whispers rose like the rustle of wind over tall grass.

Shen Three turned to me.

My uncle merely shook his head slowly.

"I'm here, my lord," I said, stepping forward.能

"Come," the Chief said.

A single word from the Chief echoed through the plaza. Soft, almost casual—yet none of us could quite believe what we'd heard.

"Come over." He glanced to his left. At once, one of his attendants stepped forward and approached me, while all around, murmurs of disbelief and disappointment stirred like a rising breeze.

Only my uncle remained still. As if he had foreseen every word. He stared at me and gave a small shake of his head, slow and grave.

But I knew. I knew what I had to do.

I followed the attendant to the throne and stopped before the Chief's feet.

"My lord," I said, lowering my head in respect. "I am Stone. What would you have me do?"

The old monkey studied me for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice rasping like dry leaves in the wind.

"Son... I've heard of you for a long time. Yet until now, fate never allowed us to meet."

He paused, his breath short. Then, with a faint smile, he went on:

"They say—of the one hundred and ninety-six monkeys in this mountain—you are the boldest. The cleverest. They say you are the one... who may truly find the peach."

He leaned forward slightly. "You cannot imagine how much this day means to me."

But just as he was about to continue, a harsh cough tore through his chest. He held up a hand, taking a moment to steady himself, then gave me a broad, breathless smile.

Everyone stood frozen, their mouths agape. None could believe what they had just witnessed—the Chief smiled.

It was a rare, almost legendary occurrence. Even his closest guards seldom caught a glimpse of that elusive smile. In the tribe, it was said that anyone blessed by the Chief's smile would be favored by heaven itself.

Whispers broke out like rustling leaves in a dry wind. Him? Of all monkeys? How could I—the one they distrusted most—receive such a precious sign of favor, and possibly at the cost of their missing children?

I heard a low growl from One Hundred and Forty-Five's father. His rage brewed just beneath his fur.

"Go," the Chief said calmly. "Pick a Fairy Peach for me."

A murmur rippled through the crowd again. "It may not be wise," came a deep voice from the side. Shen Six stepped forward—tall, composed, with a long mustache that brushed his round belly. His tone, firm yet measured, reminded me of my uncle.

He was one of the six Masters of the Monkey Clan, perhaps the most respected among them.

"I don't mean to defy your will, my Lord," he began, "but we've spent years searching for the Fairy Peach. We've scoured every peak, every hidden valley. And all we've gained... is loss. One young monkey after another—gone. We have never found a single trace of the peach. Now this odd little monkey appears out of nowhere, claiming he's found it?" Shen Six cast a sharp look at me, then turned to Shen Three. "To me, it smells of trickery. Perhaps he's only seeking revenge. His story could be a lie."

The crowd fell into tense silence. Then, Three narrowed his eyes.

"I disagree," he said coolly. "Stories don't come from nowhere. Even myths are born from truth. If there's a chance this monkey saw something, we should at least follow the thread. "

Shen Three turned to the Chief. The Chief said nothing, but his frown deepened as he stared down Shen Six.

"How's your left leg these days?" Shen Six asked quietly.

Immediately, all eyes dropped to Shen Three's knee. For the first time, I noticed a strip of rabbit fur wrapped tightly around it.

"The same," Shen Three replied. "Cold, stiff... a little numb. Sometimes I need a cane."

"Ten years ago," Shen Six went on, "you fled from a tiger. In your panic, you fell down a steep slope and shattered your left arm and leg. You survived—but the two young monkeys who shielded your escape were torn apart by that beast."

His words hung in the air—solid, immovable.

"After that, we all agreed to stop the search. To abandon the fairy peach. You were the first to say it. Have you forgotten?"

Then he turned to me.

"Three more children are gone, lost chasing that illusion. And now you trust him? What if he ran away? Lied?"

Shen Six's gaze swept across the clearing. Even the trees seemed to be listening. He looked toward the worried parents gathered at the edge of the crowd. When their eyes met his, a familiar pain passed between them—quiet, deep, and shared.

His final words struck like a falling stone. "Why can't you let go of your obsession?"

Shen Three let out a low laugh. His voice was calm—eerily calm.

"I understand your concern, Shen Six. Truly, I do." He turned to me. A strange smile crept across his face—gentle, but not just gentle. It was too perfect, too deliberate to be real, as if even the coldest stone could suddenly radiate warmth.

"Our little Stone is different. He'll bring back a fairy peach for our Chief... as long as his uncle stays here to wait."

I turned. My uncle was trying to sit upright on a nearby boulder. Someone was already approaching him with a tray of fruits and drinks.

Then I looked back. Shen Three and the Chief were both staring straight at me.

And I understood.

If I didn't return with a fairy peach...They would kill my uncle.

How cruel could they be?

Shen Six stepped forward again, his voice rising. "How can you say that? What if he just runs away? What if he lies again? What about the families of the missing children?"

"Are you blind, Shen Six?" Shen Three's smile vanished. "This is Stone's best chance. His only chance to atone. Would you take that from him, too?"

Shen Six lowered his gaze, then slowly turned to face the crowd. His eyes swept over the monkeys like great wings brushing leaves—soft, but heavy with meaning.

"To be honest," he said quietly, "unless those three boys come back, he can't stay on this island. It's not about the peach. It's about their hearts. No matter what he brings back—he'll die for what happened. Sooner or later."

A chill shot through me. I understood what he meant.

Even if I succeeded—even if I brought back that peach—they would still find a way to kill me.

Shen Three stepped forward, his voice sharp. "So you don't care about the Chief's life now?"

He must've known all of this already. But he didn't care. All he wanted was the peach—not my life, not my uncle's.

How heartless he was!

The Chief raised one hand. Instantly, both masters swallowed their arguments and fell silent. A heavy stillness settled over the clearing. Then, he looked straight at me.

My heart pounded. I wasn't sure I had the strength to refuse him.

I turned toward my uncle. He only shook his head—slightly.

"Listen, my son," the Chief said, "you have the greatest opportunity in a hundred years. If you return with a fairy peach, I promise you: no one in this clan will ever harm you again."

"No—!"

"He's a murderer! You can't spare him!"

"It's not fair to our children!"

The cries erupted. One-Fifty-Five's father shouted first, then others joined—One-Fifty-Seven's, One-Sixty-Two's. All the families dropped to their knees, pleading.

"My Lord," One-Sixty-Two's father collapsed, sobbing, "we know your mercy is beyond compare, but you cannot spare the one who took our sons. He must be punished!"

"Do you want me to die?" the Chief snapped.

A dark fire lit in his eyes, and everyone fell silent, scorched by the heat of his gaze.

"No, never!" they cried. "We are your most loyal followers!"

"We just don't believe Stone's words," they added. "We've suffered enough."

The Chief said nothing. He turned his gaze toward the sea.
Only the wind in the trees and the birdsong remained.

Then his voice sliced through the stillness:

"So what are you waiting for, Stone—my future Chief?"

The words hit me like thunder.

Me? The Chief?

That had to be a joke. My ears had to be playing tricks on me. But when I looked around, I saw every eye fixed on me—suddenly, it felt like the whole mountain had perched on my shoulders. I was frozen.

"When you turn eighteen," the Chief said, "I will abdicate. And you, my Stone—the smartest, bravest, kindest monkey in this world—you will take the throne."

Once again, I heard my name, tied to that word—throne.

Was this real?

I—Stone, a poor monkey without parents, branded "ominous" for as long as I could remember—was to become the next Chief? The new Chief? In nine years? 

It was impossible to believe. The hardest thing I'd ever been asked to believe in my life.
I looked around at them, speechless.

What was I supposed to do?

I glanced over my shoulder again, hoping my uncle might send me a sign. A nod, a shake of the head—anything. But he was gone.

"Where is my uncle?" I asked.

"He was very tired," Shen Three said with a soft smile. "We sent him home. Just go now. Your uncle will be well when you return. We'll take care of him, my future lord."

He tried to sound reassuring, but all I heard was a warning hidden beneath the softest petal. Where was my uncle, really?

I turned to Shen Six. He said nothing—his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he were trying to solve some impossible riddle.