Chapter 53: The Monkey King Attends a Funeral
The young man stepped into the tiger enclosure as casually as if he were strolling through his own backyard. Everyone watched in silence as he petted the white tiger’s head over and over—like he was just rubbing a cat.
Most importantly, the white tiger—the famous “Tiger King” of Changhe Zoo—didn’t make a sound, letting him do whatever he wanted.
Well… not entirely silent. The young man pulled out some freeze-dried treats from his bag, and the white tiger ate them with a loud, crisp crunch-crunch.
Lin Jiangye found the egg-yolk pie that had been thrown in from the corner. He lifted it and shook it toward the crowd above. “Stop throwing this kind of thing down. The zoo forbids visitors from feeding animals.”
But the person who had thrown it curled his lips, looking utterly dismissive.
Lin Jiangye’s mouth curved slightly. He patted the white tiger, and in the next second, accompanied by a shocking roar, this adult male Bengal tiger—nearly three meters long—suddenly lunged upward toward the crowd.
Of course, the tiger couldn’t climb over the protective barrier. But the sheer force of that leap still brought terrifying fear to the people above.
Especially that visitor with the smug face—he was directly in the tiger’s line. That gaping bloody maw looked like it could bite his head clean off in one snap!
“AAAAAHHHH!” Screams erupted through the crowd. By the time the white tiger returned to Lin Jiangye’s side, that person had already gone limp, collapsing onto the ground.
“Egg-yolk pies are heavy, oily, salty, sugary human food. You cannot feed them to animals—wild animals included. Eating too much will damage their bodies. And I think… the no-feeding rule was clearly stated when you entered, wasn’t it?”
They’d been warned, yet still fed them anyway. This wasn’t impulse, and it definitely wasn’t “love.” It was simply having itchy hands—:)
Lin Jiangye even patted the white tiger’s head again, then spoke to the crowd above with a half-smile that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Even the white tiger knows you’re not allowed to feed animals privately in the tiger zone. It even knows egg-yolk pies can’t be eaten. Don’t do this again—unless you want to be looked down on by the tigers.”
To put it more bluntly: don’t be a human who’s worse than a tiger. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of animals.
The spectators felt their faces burning hot. And the most unbelievable part was—after the young man finished speaking, the white tiger actually nodded repeatedly, looking very much in agreement.
Great. Now they couldn’t even argue—because even the “tiger involved” refused this so-called “loving feeding.”
Lin Jiangye led the white tiger away. Just as he was about to hand the trash to the staff outside, the two Bengal tigers that had been lazily sprawled nearby suddenly rolled over, stood up, and walked toward him.
The staff outside instantly turned pale, panic flashing in their eyes. “Get out—now!”
But Lin Jiangye acted as if he didn’t hear them. He first glanced at the white tiger beside him—who remained completely indifferent, calmly licking its paw and washing its face on the spot.
Seeing how relaxed it was, Lin Jiangye didn’t sense any aggression from the other two either. He simply stood there and waited, to see what those two wanted.
The staff were scared to death, convinced some bloody scene was about to happen. But instead, the two Bengal tigers came up behind the young man and rubbed hard against his backpack.
[Smells good~] They could smell food inside!
The white tiger, which had been washing its face, abruptly stopped. It roared at the two.
[Mine! Not giving!]
But even after being scolded like that, the other two still wouldn’t give up. They kept rubbing and rubbing against Lin Jiangye.
The white tiger grew anxious and immediately squeezed in too, rubbing all over Lin Jiangye as well.
Surrounded by three tigers bouncing around him, Lin Jiangye felt like one of those wobble toys—being shoved left and right without actually falling over.
“Enough! Stop messing around!” Lin Jiangye smacked all three of them hard on the head, signaling them to stop.
The white tiger was indignant and was about to continue, but Lin Jiangye pressed down on its head. “I’ll just let them taste a tiny bit.”
There was no way he could refuse completely. But for the “Tiger King’s” face, he could only give one or two pieces, that kind of “just a taste.”
The white tiger snorted from its throat, glaring viciously at them. The other two immediately shrank their necks—yet under the temptation of craving, they still didn’t leave.
Lin Jiangye took out four pieces of freeze-dried snack and stuffed them into the two tigers’ mouths. Their eyes went wide as they chewed.
While they were intoxicated by the texture, Lin Jiangye quickly stuffed a mouthful into the white tiger too, then swiftly left the Bengal tiger area.
By the time the three silly tigers finished “tasting” the freeze-dried snack and turned around, Lin Jiangye was already gone.
He had returned to the Siberian tigers. Once again, using freeze-dried snacks as bait, he coaxed information out of them about the recent situation in the tiger zone.
The South China tigers were the same—no major issues with staff. They just wanted their diet updated a bit, and the low-quality behavior of some visitors made them uncomfortable.
And when faced with a human who could understand them, the tigers stared at him nonstop, curiosity written all over them—like cats seeing something novel.
South China tigers were slightly smaller. When they rolled around on the ground, they looked even more like oversized house cats.
Lin Jiangye couldn’t resist. Under the staff’s horrified gaze, he hugged several South China tigers and rubbed his face against them hard. He even combed through their fur, then finally?? their round ears—until the South China tigers started purring so loudly it shook the air.
Honestly, watching that whole combo move made both staff and visitors jealous enough to turn red-eyed.
Tourmaline was bold as hell. It hopped straight onto one South China tiger, spread its wings, and lay flat on the tiger’s belly to sunbathe.
That South China tiger only glanced at it once, then lay back down again, not caring about the little black bird at all.
Not far away, Opal couldn’t hold back anymore. It brought the Tibetan Mastiff over from above, slipping through the iron mesh.
Seeing the two little ones, Lin Jiangye waved at them. “Don’t be scared. They won’t hurt you.”
As they approached the South China tiger group, the two little ones were trembling all over from the overwhelming presence. But seeing their owner nearby, they still inched forward, shivering.
With their owner here… they weren’t afraid!
Watching the Tibetan Mastiff and Opal move closer little by little, a trace of amusement flashed in Lin Jiangye’s eyes.
He stretched out a hand toward his babies. In his palm was a comb tangled with South China tiger fur. “Here—smell it. You’ll get used to it.”
The Tibetan Mastiff trembled as it sniffed Lin Jiangye’s hand. When it caught the familiar scent, the fear in its chest eased at once.
Then Lin Jiangye gathered it into his arms, gently took its paw, and pressed it onto the soft belly of a South China tiger. “It’s a big cat. You’re a little cat. You’re both cats.”
The sight of a tabby being held while petting a tiger had the people around watching with relish—they’d never seen other animals dare approach tigers like this.
Maybe because its owner was beside it, the Tibetan Mastiff’s suppressed mischievousness replaced its fear.
It stared at the “big cat” in front of it, tail wagging excitedly. Then it crouched low, wiggled its butt, and suddenly pounced onto the South China tiger.
The South China tiger, sunbathing, lifted its head in surprise. Seeing it was only a baby, it lazily lay back down again.
Still, for that human’s sake, it used its tail to play with the tabby for a round.
Opal, tucked beside Lin Jiangye, watched with envy. Then it copied Tourmaline, carefully spreading its wings and lying on top of another South China tiger.
Because Opal was so small, the South China tiger sleeping soundly didn’t even notice a little one had crawled near.
That made Opal feel much safer. And honestly—lying on a fluffy tiger and sunbathing felt unbelievably comfortable.
After Lin Jiangye finished combing all five South China tigers, he turned around—only to find all three little ones sprawled across tiger bodies, fast asleep in perfect unison.
He chuckled, helplessly shaking his head. Then he decisively took out his phone, snapped a picture of this miraculous scene, and sent it to Shang Fuyan and two Forestry Bureau directors he knew.
Very quickly, all three replied with a long chain of question marks.
Forget Shang Fuyan—even the Forestry Bureau people had never seen a crow and a cat sleeping on a tiger.
What… had Lin Jiangye evolved to the point of taming tigers now?
In Yue City, Shang Fuyan froze for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. Looking at the wrist cord around his wrist, he suddenly felt that no matter what Lin Jiangye did, it was normal.
If the guy could pluck fur from the Taibai Mountain Mountain God, what couldn’t he do?
If Lin Jiangye were here, he would definitely be furious at that.
When did he ever pluck fur? That was loose undercoat he combed off Tiger Mom!
After the little ones slept for over half an hour, Lin Jiangye patted their heads. “Wake up. Time to go!”
The Tibetan Mastiff’s ear twitched. Still lying on the South China tiger, it stretched lazily and was just about to get up—when the tiger licked its head.
The tiger had retracted its barbs, but even so—
The “Tibetan Mastiff” was just a one-year-old tabby cat. When had it ever been licked by such a huge “cat”? One lick turned its head into something like a peeled mango pit.
More importantly, a tiger’s mouth had that strong bloody, gamey smell—far too intense for a little kitty.
The small tabby looked like its soul had been shocked out of its body. It didn’t come back to itself for a long time—until the South China tiger licked it again.
That second lick finally snapped it awake. It shrieked a pitiful “meow!” and jumped straight into Lin Jiangye’s arms.
[Stinky stinky stinky stinky!!!]
It was a clean, pretty little cat—how could it become a stinky, wet clown-cat?!
Hearing that, the South China tiger, which had kindly been grooming the baby, was also shocked.
[What did you say?]
Lin Jiangye quickly scooped up the other two little ones and fled the South China tiger area. Sure enough, the very next second after he left, that South China tiger let out an enraged roar:
[Tiger isn’t stinky! Kitty, come back here!!!]
It wanted to drag that baby back and demand an explanation. But when it looked around, there wasn’t a single baby in sight.
Damn it! Tiger isn’t stinky! How is tiger stinky, huh… QAQ
Back in the staff corridor, Lin Jiangye was washing the tabby’s head. The little tabby looked completely dejected, letting out soft, aggrieved whimpers.
[Stinky… kitty is stinky QAQ]
“Not stinky! Where is it stinky? Kitty is still the prettiest little cat in the world.” Lin Jiangye laughed and cried at the same time, coaxing it gently.
But even after it was washed and blow-dried clean, the tabby still drooped, shrinking into Lin Jiangye’s clothing and refusing to come out.
Sigh… alright then.
Lin Jiangye washed his own hands, then used deodorizer to lessen the tiger scent on his body. He went to a ventilated spot and let the cold wind blow away the remaining smell.
It couldn’t be completely removed, but a faint tiger scent could actually help him avoid being attacked by other predators.
Lin Jiangye glanced at the tiger fur on his wrist cord. Being able to get this close to the zoo’s tigers so smoothly was honestly beyond his expectations.
Thanks for Tiger Mom’s blessing~
He lifted the wrist cord, pressed it lightly to his chest, and silently thanked the Mountain God’s protection in his heart.
After leaving the tiger zone, Lin Jiangye brought the three little ones to the next stop—the felid exhibit area, which included lynxes, servals, black-footed cats, leopards, and more.
The entire exhibit was slightly larger than the tiger zone, but each individual enclosure was much smaller.
Perhaps because they sensed the faint tiger scent on him, whether lynx or leopard, they were all unusually obedient around him—answering whatever he asked, and even allowing him to reach out and touch them without any resistance at all.
Lynx & Leopard: Hah. This human reeks of tiger—real predator scent. You don’t get that unless you’ve been hugging a tiger up close. Anyone who can hold a tiger like that is definitely a ruthless type.
They didn’t dare move. They were terrified this ruthless guy would come back later—leading a tiger—just to settle accounts with them.
But the problems in this section were bigger than the tiger zone, especially over by the servals and black-footed cats. Maybe because they were small, the staff responsible for them weren’t very attentive.
[The pool is filthy! Cat doesn’t want to go down there!]
A tiny black-footed cat puffed up angrily and complained to Lin Jiangye. Its loud yowling quickly drew a crowd of visitors.
Normally, when people came here, it was hard to even see these little ones. Most of the time you couldn’t hear a peep, so over the years there usually weren’t many visitors who stayed in this area for long.
But now they came over—and suddenly saw four little kittens clustered around a young man, meowing and yowling nonstop. It was unbearably cute.
And from inside the young man’s clothes, an adorable little cat head was poking out too—softening everyone’s hearts on the spot.
Lin Jiangye turned and glanced at the staff outside. Maybe what happened in the tiger zone had spread fast, because the way those people looked at him was full of worry and guilt.
But what was the point of feeling guilty now?
If you knew you’d regret it, why did you do it in the first place?
Lin Jiangye recorded all the kittens’ complaints on his form, planning to submit it to the director that night and let him handle it.
It wasn’t just the dirty pond—there were problems with the food too.
Black-footed cats were a vulnerable species imported from South Africa. Their diet was usually small birds, rodents, insects, and bird eggs.
They told Lin Jiangye that the food they’d been given recently had a strange smell.
[Sour… and kind of stinky. Not tasty. But if we don’t eat it, maybe tomorrow there won’t be anything to eat…]
The little black-footed cat’s ears drooped, looking pitiful and wronged.
Lin Jiangye frowned hard. From what they were saying, the black-footed cats’ food was being skimmed off?
After comforting them, he wanted to go check the storage room. But two staff members blocked his way.
They said he wasn’t zoo management, and even with the director’s credentials, he wasn’t allowed to go there on his own.
That made Lin Jiangye laugh in anger. But it also confirmed they’d done something shady.
He ignored their threats and called the director directly.
Not long after, the deputy director arrived.
Her face was still a little pale—what happened before dawn had frightened her badly—but her eyes were clear, and she was obviously back to herself.
“Leave this to me. Sorry to trouble you again, Consultant Lin.” She used the same title as everyone else—Consultant Lin. Even outside the police station, “consultant” still fit what he was doing.
The moment the deputy director showed up, the two staff members finally panicked.
They’d assumed this new inspector would only report the problem upward. Then they could bribe someone and maybe be fine.
Who would’ve thought he actually had the director’s number—and could really call the deputy director over?
After the deputy director investigated, she discovered the two had been taking the good ingredients home, letting their family sell them privately for profit. What they fed the black-footed cats were cheap leftovers they bought themselves—food that had been kept overnight.
Using this method, they’d already made hundreds of thousands. And the embezzled ingredients weren’t only the black-footed cats’—it included the entire felid exhibition hall.
The deputy director looked at the records and actually laughed from anger. She didn’t waste words—she called the police.
Hundreds of thousands wasn’t a small amount. And that was only what they’d taken in three years. If they stayed longer, it could easily pass a million.
Lin Jiangye wandered around the zoo for three days. Besides exposing quite a few staff who substituted inferior goods or abused animals in private, he also collected many ideas from the animals about how they wanted their “homes” improved.
In fact, when the director and deputy director saw the list of requests he submitted, both of them were deeply confused.
If the person standing in front of them hadn’t been Lin Jiangye, they would’ve thought he was talking nonsense.
The cheetah enclosure wanted… a swing? Could you believe that? Wasn’t that a little too ridiculous?
But the truth was exactly that.
“This cheetah has seen humans on swings before, so it’s curious about the feeling. Why not set up a simple one first and let it try? If it really likes it, then make a sturdy one.”
Building a swing didn’t cost much, but Lin Jiangye still felt it was better to let it test it first.
Felids were basically curiosity monsters. Maybe that leopard only asked for a swing because it had never played on one before.
If it still liked it after trying, then they should build it a nice swing that matched its coat color. That would satisfy its hobby and attract visitors too.
The director thought about it and felt it made sense. So he had people prepare materials—and he himself brought Lin Jiangye along to help set it up.
“But it’ll have to wait until the afternoon. We’re going to attend Yao Li’s funeral first.”
Yao Li’s funeral!
Lin Jiangye’s eyes widened slightly. Right—three days had already passed since Yao Li was murdered. Now the killer had been caught. Faced with the evidence Hong Xingwang and the others provided, An Yang finally confessed. All that remained was to submit it to the court.
Yao Li could finally rest in peace.
“Alright. Then call me after you come back.” Lin Jiangye was just about to leave when hurried footsteps suddenly sounded.
Very soon, two familiar figures rushed to the director’s desk in panic.
“Director! The Monkey King jailbreak—ah no, escaped the enclosure!”
“What?!” ×2
Lin Jiangye and the director shouted in unison. Then they received a second piece of bad news:
“And the newly installed cameras got broken again, wuwuwu!”
Help—what on earth are these monkeys trying to do?!
Lin Jiangye frowned. Something felt off. “I’ll go help find the Monkey King.”
The moment he said that, three pairs of eyes looked at him with intense hope—shining, brighter than the white tiger’s eyes when it begged for freeze-dried snacks.
“Consultant Lin!” Wuwuwu, you’re our lifesaver!
The monkey-keepers’ stares made Lin Jiangye’s scalp tingle. He didn’t dare linger. He immediately broke into a run toward the monkey enclosure, then released Opal and Tourmaline to search from the sky for the Monkey King.
He reached the monkey enclosure soon.
The moment the monkeys saw him, the previously noisy enclosure fell silent in an instant. The eerie scene immediately sparked visitors’ curiosity.
Recently, videos from Changhe Zoo had swept the internet—things like “a raven and a tiger sleeping together (not),” “a man charging into Wolf Valley alone and scaring the whole pack into trembling, even rubbing the Wolf King like a dog,” and “the young man covered head to toe in little red pandas,” and so on.
In every video, wherever the young man went, he received the animals’ most sincere love (and fear), making netizens and visitors alike insanely jealous.
So when they saw him walk into the monkey enclosure with a cold face, they instinctively felt a good show was about to start.
Lin Jiangye walked in holding a thin little wooden stick. The moment the monkeys saw it, almost all of them averted their eyes—guilty expressions so obvious it was ridiculous.
“Very good. Looks like you all know about the Monkey King’s ‘jailbreak’—cough, escape.” He almost got led into saying “jailbreak” again.
“Then…” He lightly tapped the stick against his palm, walked into the troop, and asked in a low, eerie voice, “Who can tell me where it went? And what it went to do?”
He stepped forward.
The monkeys instantly scrambled backward like they’d touched something dangerous.
But the enclosure wasn’t that big. The door back to the indoor shelter was closed. They had nowhere to run.
“I’ll count to three. If you keep hiding it, you’ll all be locked in solitary. Today’s snacks will be canceled—canceled every day until the Monkey King comes back.”
Even then, the troop only stirred restlessly. Not a single monkey was willing to betray the secret.
Lin Jiangye didn’t get discouraged. If hard tactics didn’t work, he’d go soft.
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but the Monkey King doesn’t seem like the kind of monkey that runs away irresponsibly. Did it leave because it had something it needed to handle?”
When he saw their eyes grow even more guilty, Lin Jiangye knew he’d guessed right.
“But there’s something you may not understand. The outside world isn’t the same as here.”
Changhe Zoo sat in the mountains on the edge of the city. Outside was a main road, and not far away was a highway—cars coming and going. If something went wrong even once…
Lin Jiangye let out a heavy sigh, then exaggerated the danger by at least tenfold before continuing.
“You don’t have to tell me where it went yet. But can you tell me why it left? If there’s a reason, I can help.”
He crouched down, bringing himself level with the troop.
“I’m not a bad person. You know that, right?”
The monkeys unconsciously nodded along. This human truly wasn’t a bad person. He could understand them, and he’d helped them wholeheartedly.
They began to hesitate.
Several higher-ranking monkeys exchanged glances, then found a secluded corner and whispered among themselves.
Lin Jiangye’s description of the outside world had clearly frightened them.
After they finished discussing, they decided that even if they revealed the purpose, it wouldn’t really affect the Monkey King’s plan.
After all, the Monkey King had already run off!
So they finally told Lin Jiangye.
When Lin Jiangye heard the Monkey King’s destination, he froze—stunned and incredulous. Then his eyes reddened slightly.
The monkeys told him that this time the Monkey King left the monkey enclosure not to go fool around, but to attend Yao Li’s funeral.
They said they’d overheard staff talking about the funeral during the day—saying it would be the last time they ever saw Yao Li. That made the Monkey King develop the thought of going to a human funeral.
It also wanted to see Yao Li one last time.
Lin Jiangye hadn’t expected the Monkey King’s feelings for Yao Li to run this deep. “You guys… forget it. I know what to do now. I’ll help with the Monkey King, but after this is over, you still have to accept punishment, understand?”
The monkeys stared at him blankly, not understanding why they’d still be punished after revealing the Monkey King’s purpose.
“Because it’s dangerous. Not just you—Monkey King too. When you did this, you didn’t think at all about how dangerous the human world outside is.”
Setting danger aside, did the Monkey King even know where Yao Li’s funeral was? Even if it knew, how was it going to get there?
Walk? Did it have navigation—did it even recognize roads? Take a ride? Did it know which bus to take?
And besides—could it read human words?
It knew nothing. How was it supposed to get there? What if it didn’t make it to the funeral—and couldn’t even make it back to the zoo?
Lin Jiangye poked the foreheads of those monkeys. A flare of anger rose in him, but more than that was helplessness and worry.
It was a monkey, not a human, so it wouldn’t think that far. Yet precisely because it didn’t think that far, its feelings for Yao Li looked even more sincere and heavy.
He didn’t have time to punish these monkeys for hiding the truth. First, he had to find the Monkey King.
As for after he found it… he would take the Monkey King to the funeral. The only question was whether the victim’s family would accept a monkey participating.
When he told the director about it, his tone was heavy. “When you go over there later, help me ask the family if it’s okay. If not, I’ll bring it and wait outside.”
The director fell silent for a long while, then finally rasped, “Okay.”
The idea of the Monkey King attending a funeral also surprised him. But after reading about what Yao Li and the Monkey King had been through, the director felt it wasn’t that shocking after all.
“So… why was Yao Li’s bond with the Monkey King so deep?” Lin Jiangye had wanted to ask ever since the Monkey King handed him those nuts, but later he got busy and forgot.
The director sighed and explained, “The Monkey King was truly raised by Yao Li with her own hands.”
When the Monkey King was little, its mother had died. And that mother had been the previous Monkey King’s mate, so none of the other females in the troop dared to help care for the infant.
With no choice, Yao Li and the other staff had to bottle-feed it and raise it themselves. And among them, Yao Li was the one who spent the most time with the Monkey King.
“You said before that the troop called Yao Li ‘sister.’ But honestly, I feel like the Monkey King would call her ‘mom.’ It was extremely close to her.” Animals had spirit. They knew who treated them well, and they repaid kindness.
The director just hadn’t expected a monkey to want to attend a human funeral.
“It’s not trying to ‘attend’ a funeral,” Lin Jiangye said. “It wants to see Yao Li one last time.”
The director was shocked. “But Yao Li is being cremated!”
Lin Jiangye lifted his head, searching the sky for Opal and Tourmaline. After he whistled to call the two little ones back, they both said they hadn’t seen the Monkey King anywhere inside the zoo.
Which meant it had very likely already left the zoo.
“Search outside. Tourmaline—go find the nearby small birds and ask them to help too. I’ll pay with food.” Lin Jiangye issued calm orders while scanning for any birds around him that could assist.
Then, in the middle of it all, he replied to the director, “The ‘last time’ doesn’t have to mean seeing the body. A memorial photo works too.”
Anyway, to the Monkey King, there wasn’t much difference…
The director said he would ask the family, and also try to persuade them to agree. “If Yao Li has a spirit in heaven, and sees a youngster she raised with her own hands coming ?????????? to her funeral… she would probably be happy.”
But neither of them knew how it would turn out. Lin Jiangye didn’t even know whether he could find the Monkey King alive.
What he’d told the troop was exaggerated by… a lot—but the danger truly did exist, and it wasn’t small.
What Lin Jiangye feared most was the Monkey King being hit by a car.
He wasn’t fearmongering. This kind of thing happened every year. Animals didn’t know what those human “iron boxes” were, and they didn’t understand their speed. They thought they were fast enough crossing the road—yet they still couldn’t beat a car.
Even a tiger might not outrun a sedan, let alone a monkey.
After he arranged for many birds to help, quite a while passed before he finally got a reply:
[Human! Found it! Come with bird!]
There were many wild birds around Changhe Zoo, most of them native species. After discovering the environment was good, they didn’t want to leave.
And precisely because they were local birds, they knew the area well—so they found the Monkey King even faster than Tourmaline and Opal.
Lin Jiangye hurried after them and finally found the Monkey King in a corner at the foot of a mountain.
The Monkey King’s eyes were blank, as if it had been stunned by the endless stream of traffic in front of it. It didn’t dare cross the road at all.
Seeing it wasn’t injured, Lin Jiangye immediately let out a breath of relief.
“Finally found you.”
The Monkey King jolted awake, startled. The moment it saw Lin Jiangye, it instinctively wanted to run. But Lin Jiangye said only one sentence—and nailed it in place:
“I’ll take you to Yao Li’s funeral. Are you going or not?”
The Monkey King turned back in disbelief—only to see the young man crouching and reaching a hand toward it.
“I’ll take you. I’m not lying.”
After hesitating, the Monkey King chose to believe him.
This human had helped them find the murderer who killed sister—so he could definitely help it see sister one last time too.
When Lin Jiangye lifted the Monkey King into his arms, he found it clutching tightly to a broken, collapsed flower wreath.
He called it a wreath because he could see branches connected into a ring, but perhaps from scraping along the way, most of the blossoms were gone—leaving only bare twigs.
“You really put in the work… you even found early-blooming plum blossoms.” Lin Jiangye sighed softly.
It was almost January already. The zoo had evergreen tall trees, but plum trees were rare—let alone ones that bloomed in December.
What was even more precious was that it had woven the plum branches into softer twigs to make a wreath. Even among humans, not everyone was that deft and crafty.
You could imagine how much it missed Yao Li.
“Did she like plum blossoms?” Lin Jiangye asked. When the Monkey King nodded listlessly, he looked toward a stall not far away.
Over there, they happened to be selling plum branches.
He bought one, found some softer branches, then returned to the car and let the Monkey King reweave a new wreath on the seat.
Seeing that Lin Jiangye truly intended to take it to the funeral, the Monkey King finally felt at ease.
Next, Lin Jiangye called his own little ones back, handed out bird biscuits to the birds who helped, and then got the funeral location from the director.
“I already spoke with Yao Li’s family. They’re very willing.” Even the director hadn’t expected them to agree so readily.
After asking out of curiosity, he learned that while Yao Li was alive, she often talked to her family about the little ones she’d raised in the monkey enclosure.
Especially when her child visited the zoo, she would take the monkey youngsters to her child and introduce them one by one—who was who.
So… “They actually know the Monkey King too—better than I do. They understand Yao Li and the Monkey King’s bond.” The director gave a small laugh, full of sadness and helplessness.
Such a dedicated employee, someone who truly loved animals… what a pity.
Lin Jiangye listened quietly. While stopped at a red light, he glanced back at the Monkey King, who was weaving the wreath, with three curious little ones standing nearby.
By the time they arrived at the destination, the plum-blossom wreath was finished.
When the director saw their familiar vehicle, he hurried out to greet them. Yao Li’s husband, eyes numb and hollow, followed the director’s gaze—and saw the young man stepping in, holding the hand of a grown monkey.
The moment the monkey appeared, everyone at the funeral froze. Then they all looked toward Yao Li’s husband and child.
The man felt his eyes heat up again. He sniffed, and in a hoarse voice explained, “This is the little monkey Lili raised. It’s the Monkey King now. To come here, it even broke out of the enclosure.”
After that sentence, nobody dared to speak.
How much Yao Li loved the monkeys was obvious from her social posts. And since the family could explain it so naturally, it meant they had already accepted this.
If the family agreed, what could a bunch of outsiders possibly say?
Lin Jiangye led the Monkey King inside. The first thing he saw was the memorial altar in the center, with a portrait of Yao Li placed above.
The moment the Monkey King saw the photo, it got so excited that it tried to rush over—but Lin Jiangye stopped it.
“No touching things randomly. You promised me—you follow my instructions.” He reminded the Monkey King softly. Seeing it stand motionless, staring at the portrait, made his own chest tighten.
Luckily, the Monkey King calmed down. But those once-sparkling eyes had gone dim.
“Follow me. First, bow.”
Lin Jiangye guided the Monkey King through the funeral rites. Only then did he gently push its back, signaling that it could step forward and place the wreath in front of the portrait.
The Monkey King stood there in a daze for several seconds before slowly walking forward, then staring at the memorial photo for a long, long time.
Just when everyone thought the monkey might flip the altar over or snatch the offerings from it, they saw the Monkey King reach out and gently touch the photo with its hand.
Then it placed the plum-blossom wreath it had prepared in front of the portrait.
[Mom… goodbye.]
Lin Jiangye’s gaze trembled slightly. As he’d expected—deep down, the Monkey King had always treated Yao Li as its mother.
Even though they weren’t the same species, even though they couldn’t truly communicate, none of that could stop the bond between them.
He understood the Monkey King better than anyone—because he, too, had a mother who wasn’t human.
The Monkey King didn’t make a fuss at all. It obediently followed the young man through the mourning rites and even offered the flowers Yao Li loved most when she was alive. Yao Li’s husband was deeply moved.
Before they left, Yao Li’s husband deliberately said one sentence to the Monkey King, his voice hoarse:
“Lili used to say that if the country allowed people to keep monkeys, then you would definitely be the eldest son of our family.”
Among all the monkey babies she had helped raise, only the Monkey King was different. She truly treated it as her own child.
The man used to think his wife was being sentimental, making too much of it. But now, he realized—this human and this monkey had both lived up to each other’s love.
The Monkey King stayed silent. After seeing Yao Li one last time, it obediently held out its hand toward the young man—meaning it wanted to go back.
Lin Jiangye carried it back into the car. The door had barely shut when the Monkey King squeaked:
[Human… how long can you live?]
The moment those words came out, the other three little ones in the car jerked their heads up at the same time, all looking toward the young man in the driver’s seat.
He paused. In the end, he answered honestly. “If there isn’t a serious illness or an accident… probably seventy or eighty years.”
Seventy or eighty years… to the four animals in the car, that was an unimaginably long number.
For macaques like the Monkey King, even in captivity the maximum lifespan was around thirty-six years—not even half of an average human lifespan.
As for Tourmaline and Opal, if they were raised well, they might live over twenty years.
A tabby cat’s lifespan was usually around fifteen, though there were exceptionally long-lived cats—the longest had lived close to twenty-seven.
But no matter which one it was, none of them lived as long as humans.
Which meant that, if nothing unexpected happened, Lin Jiangye would outlive every one of his little ones.
Yet unexpectedly, after hearing that humans could live so long, the three little ones’ first reaction wasn’t sorrow over not being able to stay with their owner forever.
Instead, they worried about whether Lin Jiangye’s heart would hurt so much that it would damage his health.
[Human, you have to take good care of yourself.]
In the tabby’s glass-marble eyes was limitless worry. In that moment, it suddenly felt that having more animals at home was a good thing.
At least, after they were all gone, there would still be new little ones in the house to keep their owner company.
The Monkey King listened quietly to their concern for Lin Jiangye, then curled up in the car and fell silent.
It hated accidents. If there were no accidents, then Mom could live for a very, very long time.
It was all the bad human’s fault. If not for him, Mom wouldn’t have left.
—
When they returned to the zoo and the staff saw the Monkey King come back safely, the two keepers finally felt relieved.
“Where did it even go? I never knew it was this naughty!” one of them couldn’t help muttering.
Lin Jiangye let out a soundless sigh and explained, “It wanted to attend Yao Li’s funeral. It even wove her a plum-blossom wreath.”
That person instantly shut up—and even slapped himself on the mouth. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have said a word!
What a loyal, affectionate Monkey King—and he was gossiping about it like that?
For a while after that, the Monkey King’s mood wasn’t good. But as long as it ate normally, there was no need to worry too much.
Its mood only truly shifted on the weekend, one week after Yao Li’s funeral.
“Yao Li’s child came to the monkey enclosure. He said that when he grows up, he wants to be like his mom and come work here.” The director sent that message to Lin Jiangye on purpose—because by then Lin Jiangye had already left the zoo.
Perhaps the troop sensed a shadow of “Mom” in that child. The monkey enclosure finally regained its liveliness.
But Lin Jiangye, at this moment, had all his attention locked on the suspect in front of him. He had no time to reply to the director.
“Talk. Why did you deliberately set a fire to burn your own child to death? That was your biological child!”
Shang Fuyan sat beside him. Both of their expressions were stern and cold, and the way they looked at the suspect was as if they wanted to tear him to pieces.
The man seemed guilty, but he still stubbornly insisted the fire was caused by the child playing with fire.
“I wasn’t even home then—how could I set a fire? Don’t think you can just talk nonsense because you’re police!”
He was still arguing.
But what the suspect didn’t know was that the police already understood everything he had done—clearly and completely.
Not only his attempt to burn his own child to death, but also his affair with the woman next door.
And that woman—was conveniently one of the witnesses who “proved” he wasn’t at the scene when the fire started.
Now it was perfect: the witness’s credibility was questionable, and so his alibi naturally became questionable too.
“I’ll give you one more chance,” Shang Fuyan said, leaning forward slightly. Backlit, his eyes looked like a wolf hunting at night—glinting with icy light. “Are you going to talk, or not?”
The man lowered his head and stopped speaking.
He still refused to believe anyone had seen him at the time. He’d checked the surroundings carefully—he was sure there was no one there!
Who was it… who on earth saw him?
