A mountain breeze swept through the branches of Flower-Fruit Mountain, startling a few birds into flight. Dappled light fell across the forest, and the morning sun shone on a little monkey curled up in a crack in the rocks.
His name was Sun Xiaotian.
The memories of his previous life were still as clear as yesterday: city streets, neon lights, news alerts flashing on his phone screen... Then came a sudden car accident. When he opened his eyes again, he was in this unfamiliar forest, a little monkey on all fours.
He tried to stand, but stumbled and fell. His body was light but frail, his fur dull gray, with not a trace of spiritual radiance. Around him, troops of monkeys laughed as they leaped down from the treetops, climbed vines, and picked fruit and leaves, nimble as the wind.
As for him, even climbing a short tree left him panting.
“How come this little guy has no strength at all?” one monkey muttered.
“Look at him. He must have been born useless,” another old monkey sneered.
Sun Xiaotian lowered his head, not daring to argue. He knew he was different from these monkeys. They could sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth from birth, and with just a little cultivation, they could draw it into their bodies and awaken their intelligence. No matter how much he meditated and breathed, his body remained empty and unresponsive, as if the path to cultivation had been closed to him from birth.
Three days ago, a band of wandering monkeys had taken him in, making him the lowest-ranking member of the troop. Now his very existence seemed like a joke.
At night, a bonfire blazed as the troop sat around sharing food. Sun Xiaotian huddled off to one side, listening to the monkeys boast about leaping across ravines and sensing faint traces of spiritual energy. His heart sank.
“You’re not like us... and yet you’re exactly like the one in that legend.”
A whisper drifted into his ear. Sun Xiaotian suddenly
