She found the monkey hard at work.
"Monkey Brother, I'm heading out to stir up trouble. I'll call you if I need you."
"Eek, go on, go on. My peach grove has sprouted, and I need to watch it so the little beasts and birds don't eat the peach pits."
He waved a monkey paw and watched his good friend, the white dragon, disappear.
The valley lay beneath bright sunshine, sword-like peaks rising straight from the earth. The words Peach Grove were crookedly carved into the cliffside. They could not compare to a calligraphy master's work, yet they possessed a forceful, heroic air, clearly the handiwork of some monkey's claw.
A clear stream ran through the valley.
A grassy field and a sea of flowers.
Warm sunlight slanted over the shaded side of the mountain, painting the flower sea a tender yellow.
A waterwheel turned slowly, irrigating a neatly tended garden and nourishing the young sprouts.
Beside the peach grove stood a green stone taller than a man.
The monkey squatted atop it, basking in the sun and picking through his fur with exceptional seriousness, as if his monkey hide, tougher than refined iron, could somehow grow lice. It could not be helped. A lone monkey could only deal with his own fur-picking problems. Little Phoenix was quite interested in helping, but the monkey feared her beak would peck through his skin.
Little Phoenix copied the monkey and squatted on the stone, raising a wing to peck here and there.
Though still young, the phoenix was far from small. With her wings spread, her wingspan was even longer than the tallest tree.
Because she spent too much time around dragons and monkeys,
Little Phoenix often tilted her head or scratched herself with her claws. Of course, she could mostly only