The demon king is gone, the den is cleared. Everyone urged me: come down the mountain, back to Flower-Fruit. I said: you go. I'm staying.
My name is Zhendongshi — the cave-settling stone. Named myself — an emptied cave needs something to settle it. The demon held these halls for years; the filth is swept out, but filth comes back to an unwatched house.
My day: one round of the main hall, torches fed, dust off the Stone-Heart Altar, the great door open by day and barred by night. Light work. Only lonely.
But two days ago, dusting the altar, I found a new mark on its face.
Round. A shallow ring. As if something round had rested there one night.
The Stone Heart hasn't come home — that's for the rightful one to bring back, I know. Then whose ring is this? I bar the door every night. Who gets in?
I'm not afraid. If the heart is coming home, the seat should be kept warm for it. So now I dust the altar twice a day, and when I'm done I say to it:
"I'm keeping the door. Take your time."
If you go back to Flower-Fruit Mountain, take word to the elders: the cave is held. The troop can move home any time.
Only — before they come, send a monkey to look at that ring on the altar, and judge whether it's keeping the seat warm, or taking it.