The morning sun hit Cāng Jì's face, and for a split second, he looked majestic.
He stood in the center of the Great Monkey Plaza (which was really just a large, flat branch with some flowers woven into it), his arms crossed, his chin tilted up at a forty-five-degree angle that screamed, "I am better than you, and also my robes cost more than your life."
The cuddle-puddle of yesterday? Gone. Repressed. Buried deep in the vault of "Things We Never Speak Of," right next to the incident with the bed-wetting monkey.
Today, Cāng Jì was back. The Golden Prince was rebooted.
"Let us get this over with," Cāng Jì announced, his voice booming with enough authority to rattle the coconuts three trees over. "I have tolerated your fur. I have tolerated your....bonding. Now, I demand the second trial. I shall complete it with flawless perfection, retrieve my stone, and leave this flea-infested canopy before lunch."
