Under the gray sky, heavy drops of rain began to fall, soaking the ground and everything upon it. Old Jade sat on the temple step, her fur darkened by the downpour, eyes filled with worry and confusion. Her tiny baby, still fragile and innocent, clung to her side, shivering from the cold. But something inside Jade was unsettled—her instincts twisted by stress and fear. The rain poured harder, and the baby’s cries grew louder, echoing through the stone walls.
Suddenly, in a flash of frustration, Old Jade lifted her hand and struck the little one. The sound was soft but heavy with sadness. The baby squealed and tried to hide under Jade’s arm, yet the mother turned away for a moment, unsure of her own actions. She was not cruel—she was lost, overwhelmed by hunger, the biting chill, and the struggle to protect her troop. Her eyes darted toward the other monkeys, some watching quietly, others moving closer as if to question her harshness.
Moments passed. The rain did not stop. Slowly, Jade looked down and saw her baby trembling, eyes wide with fear. Her heart softened instantly. She reached out, pulling the tiny body back into her arms. The baby clung tightly, whimpering softly against her chest. Jade lowered her head, sheltering her little one from the rain, her breath heavy with regret.
The storm around them was fierce, but the storm within Jade was even greater—a battle between instinct and love. She believed she was teaching, protecting, guiding. Yet in that moment, she understood pain too deeply. Under the rain, Old Jade learned that true belief in love means holding on, not pushing away.
