I just became the Pirate King, and you're telling me I also time-traveled at the same time.

Scarface Bear panicked completely.

One of its eyes was swollen, its nose was bleeding, its ear had been cracked by a stone, and an old monkey was still clinging to its hind leg, biting it.

It had never encountered such prey before—the monkeys were no longer afraid of it; in fact, they chased after it and attacked it.

It let out a low, fearful growl, abruptly shook off the one-eyed old monkey from its hind legs, and turned to run into the dense forest.

Its two companions followed it, and the three bears tumbled and crawled up the scree slope, the bushes rattling as they crashed, and pebbles rolled down the hillside, raising a cloud of dust.

They disappeared into the shadows of the dense forest, their footsteps growing fainter and fainter until they were completely swallowed up by the darkness.

The peach grove was quiet for three breaths.

The monkeys remained in fighting stances, panting heavily, their fists clenched, their bodies splattered with bear blood and their own sweat.

Their eyes were still fixed on the direction of the dense forest, seemingly not quite believing that the three bears had really run away.

Then, Stone raised its right forepaw.

Its paws were covered in blood—some from the bear, some from its own, with patches of skin worn away from the knuckles, revealing tender pink flesh underneath.

It raised its bloody claw above its head and let out a long, sharp, trembling scream.

That scream wasn't like a triumphant cheer, but more like the sound of something that had been held back for far too long finally being squeezed out from the deepest part of the chest, like the first breath bursting out of a crack in a stone that had been pressed down under a mountain.

The monkeys joined in with their calls.

Dozens of monkeys screamed at the top of their lungs, their voices so loud they shook the leaves and drowned out the sound of the waterfall.

They jumped, hugged each other, pushed each other, and rolled around on the ground.

Several little monkeys surrounded the rock, dabbed the blood from the wound on its paw with their front paws, smeared it on their own faces, and then ran around with their blood-stained paws, as if showing off their spoils.

The one-eyed old monkey sat on the ground, a tuft of black bear fur in its mouth. It took the tuft of bear fur out of its mouth and looked at it in its palm for a long time.

It was missing several teeth, knocked out when it was thrown by Scarface Bear, but it didn't seem to feel any pain.

It stared at the tuft of bear fur for a long time, then carefully tucked it into the thickest patch of fur on its chest, patted it flat, and pressed it against its chest, like an old soldier pinning his first medal to his heart.

Chu Yang stood at the edge of the peach grove, leaning against a peach tree with his arms crossed over his chest.

His face was expressionless, but there was a very faint curve at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a smile, but the kind of curve that naturally appears after watching a good show.

He looked down at his hands—those hands that taught them stances, punches, and footwork, doing it over and over again until their wrists ached.

Now there's nothing on those hands—no blood, no sweat, they're completely clean.

He put his hands back into his sleeves, pulled out a dagger, and continued sharpening it.

The whetstone was still on the rock beside the waterfall, and water was still dripping.

Sun Wukong walked over from the other side of the peach grove, his golden cudgel across his shoulder, with a leaf stuck to it, it was unclear when it had gotten there.

He walked over to Chu Yang, looked at the monkeys that were still screaming, and after a while, he grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth.

"Even when I, Old Sun, won my first battle, they weren't this crazy," he said.

Chu Yang didn't look up, but pushed his finger along the blade.

"Who was your first victorious battle against?"

"That troublemaker!" Sun Wukong said. "He took over my Water Curtain Cave. I went back and gave him a good beating."

"Back then, I hadn't learned any martial arts yet, I didn't even know how to use a knife. I fought bare-handed, and after winning, I jumped around in the Water Curtain Cave for three days and three nights, even crazier than them." He took the little monkey off his shoulder—the one that couldn't get the peach pit, which now clung to Sun Wukong's shoulder every day, refusing to get down even when he taught him breathing techniques—and held it in his palm. "You'll have to learn to fight in the future, you know?"

The little monkey stared at him with its round, black eyes, then raised its two little paws and waved them at the air twice, making a "squeak" sound, probably saying, "I can fight too."

Sun Wukong flicked it on the forehead, very lightly. The little monkey somersaulted backward, then climbed back up and wouldn't let go of his fingers.

That night, the monkeys lit a bonfire on the flat ground.

The fire wasn't started by Chu Yang; it was started by the monkeys themselves—they learned from Chu Yang how to strike a fire with flint, and this was the first time they had lit a fire on their own without human help.

The campfire was small, with flames only half a person's height, but the firelight shone on the faces of each monkey, making their expressions glow red.

They sat around the campfire, reenacting the afternoon's battle over and over again—Stone played the scarred bear, and another monkey played Stone himself. The two monkeys gestured in front of the campfire, with Stone deliberately exaggerating his movements, throwing a punch and then doing three somersaults, which made the monkeys watching giggle and laugh so hard they were doubled over.

Two little monkeys laughed so hard they hugged each other and rolled over to the fire, almost setting their tails on fire. The blue-eyed old monkey grabbed them and slapped each of them on the forehead.

The one-eyed old monkey sat on the outermost edge of the campfire, leaning against a peach tree.

Its mouth was swollen, and blood was seeping from the spot where it was missing a tooth, but it didn't feel any pain.

It touched the tuft of bear fur on its chest with its front paws—the tuft of fur was warmed by its body heat and stuck to its chest, looking like a small bear shape.

It watched the monkeys frolicking around the campfire, its one intact eye reflecting the flickering firelight, and from a certain angle, it looked as if it were crying.

But monkeys don't cry; their tear glands degenerated years ago. They just watch.

Chu Yang sat a little away from the campfire on a rock next to the waterfall. His dagger was already sharpened, and the blade gleamed grayish-white in the moonlight. He put the dagger back into its leather sheath and tucked it into his sleeve.

Sun Wukong walked over and sat on the rock next to him, holding two green wild fruits in his hand.

He tossed one to Chu Yang, who caught it but didn't eat it, placing it on his lap.

Sun Wukong took a bite of the wild fruit. It was so sour that his face scrunched up, but he didn't spit it out. He chewed it and swallowed it.

"Tomorrow I'm going to start teaching them real skills," Sun Wukong said, his mouth still full of wild fruit scraps, his voice a little muffled. "The five who can cultivate must at least master one supernatural power."

"With a solid foundation in physical strength and breathing techniques, it would be a waste not to learn supernatural abilities."

Chu Yang nodded.

"What should we teach?"

"The stone is best suited for the art of creating clones," Sun Wukong said. "Its constitution is most suitable for the art of creating clones."

Once it masters this skill, it won't need to fight a bear itself anymore. It can create three clones and attack from all sides, making it impossible for the bear to even find its own clone.

"What about the others?"

"I haven't decided yet." Sun Wukong took another bite of the wild fruit. This time, it was so sour that he closed his eyes. It took him a while to open them again. "It depends on their individual fate."

Physical constitution is innate, but supernatural abilities are not; supernatural abilities are developed.

You plant the seed, water it, fertilize it, and what kind of flower grows depends on the seed itself.

Chu Yang picked up the wild fruit from his knee and took a bite.

The sour taste exploded in his mouth, and his face wrinkled slightly, but he didn't close his eyes.

The monkeys by the campfire got tired of playing and started to fall asleep one by one.

The little monkeys crowded in the middle, while the old monkeys surrounded them on the outside, arranged in layers like concentric circles.

The stone did not sleep—it sat by the campfire, sharpening its claws with a piece of gravel.

Its claws still bore the wounds from fighting the bear that afternoon. When it occasionally touched the wounds while sharpening its claws, its mouth would twitch, but it didn't stop. It kept sharpening, one stroke after another, until the tips of its claws were sharp and shiny.

Sun Wukong watched it from afar, and the corners of his mouth curved into a smile again.

"This monkey really does look a bit like me, Old Sun," he said.

Chu Yang also looked at the stone for a while, then suddenly asked, "When you first learned your skills, how long did it take you to defeat the Mischievous Demon King?"

Sun Wukong thought for a moment.

"After returning from Bodhi Patriarch's place, he won the battle on the same day."

Chu Yang remained silent for a moment.

What you said is inaccurate.

You weren't born that way; you had a teacher.

Sun Wukong was speechless for a moment after hearing this. He opened his mouth to refute it, but found that he couldn't.

He spat the wild fruit pit into the pool below the waterfall. The pit bounced twice on the surface of the water and then sank.

He wiped the juice on his trousers, stood up, and walked towards the cave.

"I'm going to sleep." He took a few steps, then stopped, without turning around. "Chu Yang."

"Um."

"You were right to let them fight it out themselves today."

Chu Yang remained silent.

He sat on a rock, looking at the moon reflected in the pool.

The waterfall's water shattered the moon into countless silver fragments. These fragments floated on the water for a while before slowly piecing themselves back together to form a complete moon.

He looked down at his hands.

He didn't fight the bear or draw his knife today, but there was a small scar on his knuckles—it was from when Stone accidentally scratched him with his claws while he was teaching Stone to punch.

The scar is very shallow and has almost healed, leaving only a white mark.

He touched the white mark, then took the dagger out of his sleeve and placed it on the stone.

The grayish-white blade did not reflect the moonlight, like a beam of moonlight frozen in time.

Bai tide recognized the dagger.

This is Chu Yang's master's dagger; it killed the Wolf King.

Now it lies on a rock in Flower Fruit Mountain, next to a bonfire that is about to go out and forty or fifty monkeys learning how to become stronger.

Chu Yang put the dagger away, stood up, and walked towards the cave.

When Chu Yang walked out of the peach grove at noon the next day, he was holding a peach branch in his hand.

The peach branch wasn't thick, about the thickness of a thumb, and the leaves on it were still green. Clear sap seeped from the broken end, sticking to his fingers.

He examined the peach branch from all angles, breaking off a section and throwing it on the ground before moving on to the next.

After walking a few steps, he broke off another piece, threw it away, and looked at it again.

He left a trail of green behind him, which was picked up by a few curious little monkeys. They sniffed it, then threw it away in disgust.

Sun Wukong sat on a large rock by the pool, his feet immersed in the water, his toes twitching from time to time, stirring up ripples in the water.

Five monkeys practicing breathing exercises sat around him on the grass behind him, their eyes closed, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. When they exhaled, two thin streams of white air shot out of their nostrils, and when they inhaled, the white air receded, like five small bellows.

The stone was not among them—it sat alone on a wet rock below the waterfall, letting the spray from the waterfall hit its body, its fur completely soaked and clinging to its skin, revealing the lean muscle lines beneath.

It practices another way of breathing exercises, taught to it by Sun Wukong, who said that practicing breathing in water is three times more difficult than practicing on land, but also three times more effective.

Sun Wukong saw Chu Yang walk out of the peach grove, break off peach branches, throw them away, then walk back and walk out from the other side of the grove, holding a thicker peach branch, and continue breaking off and throwing them.

He pulled his feet out of the water, stepped wetly onto the stones, tilted his head and looked at them for a while, finally unable to resist.

"What are you looking for?"

Chu Yang didn't look up. He held the peach branch in his hand up to his eyes and examined the texture of the bark against the sunlight.

"Looking for something."

"What is it?"

"have no idea."

Sun Wukong rubbed his feet on the stone to wipe away the water, then stood up and walked to Chu Yang's side.

He picked up a piece of peach branch that Chu Yang had thrown away from the ground, and imitated him by holding it up to his eyes to look at it. After looking at it for a while, he couldn't see anything, so he threw the peach branch away.

"How can you find it if you don't know what it is?"

Chu Yang broke off the last peach branch in his hand and casually stuck it into the mud at his feet.

He patted the sap and bark off his hands and looked at the peach orchard in front of him.

The peach trees stood quietly in the afternoon sun, their branches and leaves incredibly lush, laden with large, abundant fruit that bent the branches low. Some peaches were so ripe that no one picked them, and they fell to the ground and rotted into mud. The sweet, cloying scent attracted bees, which buzzed and hovered low in the air.

The sound of the waterfall came from the other side of the peach grove, continuous and even, like a stone skipping across the water.

"This mountain isn't right," Chu Yang said.

Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's right." Chu Yang squatted down and pressed his palm to the ground.

The ground was ordinary dirt, covered with grass whose roots were embedded in the soil, which was brownish-black. If you grabbed a handful and squeezed it, you could squeeze out water.

He rubbed the dirt off his hands, stood up, and pointed to the peach trees in the orchard, "These peach trees are not right."

The peach trees in the mountains don't grow this densely, and they don't bear this many peaches.

The waterfall is incorrect.

The mountain's height is incorrect, so the water volume shouldn't be this large.

The monkey is wrong too.

"What's wrong with the monkey?"

"Forty or fifty monkeys, living for hundreds of years in a mountain where bears roam, without demonic power or cultivation, just relying on their speed? Can they outrun a bear? Flower Fruit Mountain is a small mountain, not a deep forest, so there couldn't possibly be only three black bears."

Logically speaking, these monkeys should have been eaten long ago.