Chapter 6: The Peach Tree Pact

I couldn't let it go. Bodley just grinned, enjoying the game.

“Because the Lord won.”

He was infuriating, but I couldn't help but laugh.

“Nonsense!”

I threw up my hands, exasperated. Bodley just winked.

“It's not nonsense.”

He sounded so sure, I almost believed him.

“Still nonsense!”

We both laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. It felt good—like old times.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

Bodley shook his head, pretending to scold me. I grinned, refusing to back down.

“You always speak in riddles. If I asked you what one plus one is, you'd say it's not a literature question.”

He snorted, nearly spilling his coffee. "Well, is it?" he teased.

“So what do you want to ask?”

I leaned back, waiting for his next move.

“You're always the one asking me.”

He shrugged, as if that explained everything.

“Then why do you let me ask you?”

I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to answer.

“I have nowhere else to go, so I come to you. You're the host, I'm the guest—of course I let you ask.”

He grinned, pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

“Oh…” Bodley said, “I have to maintain my cool image.”

He struck a pose, pretending to be a wise old sage. I snorted, trying not to laugh.

“….”

We sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with years of friendship.

“So what do you actually want me to ask?”

Bodley raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. I just shook my head, exasperated.

I saw a smile at the corner of Bodley's mouth and glared at him. “If you can't talk straight, we don't have to talk.”

He held up his hands in surrender, still smiling. "Okay, okay."

“I'm not gloating.”

He shook his head, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

“I didn't say you were.”

I tried to sound stern, but my voice softened. It was hard to stay mad at him for long.

Bodley was silent for a while, then finally said, “My choice back then was really clever. You should praise me.”

He looked at me expectantly, waiting for applause. I just rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“….”

We both laughed, the tension easing. It felt like old times, before everything got so complicated.

Ten lifetimes of reincarnation—losing some memories and strength each time. After ten lives, I'd become an ordinary person, chasing the Lord and the sacred texts with my whole heart.

Each life blurred into the next—faces, places, and lessons blending together. Sometimes I remembered flashes of who I was, sometimes not. But always, the journey west called to me, pulling me forward.

“Why does the Lord do this? Just to punish me?”

I asked the question one night, staring up at the stars. Bodley sat beside me, his face lit by the glow of the campfire.

“That's part of it,” eldest brother said. “Another reason is to make everyone believe in his faith.”

He poked the fire, sending sparks flying. His voice was soft, almost apologetic.

“Didn't he already send people to spread the Word?”

I couldn't understand why it wasn't enough. Bodley just shook his head.

“The Lord is completely obsessed now. He thinks he's still the devil.” (He meant the Lord was still fighting old battles, always trying to win people over by any means.)

He said it matter-of-factly, as if it explained everything. I frowned, trying to make sense of it.

“Half-answer brother, can you be clear?” (We always gave each other silly nicknames—'half-answer brother' because he never gave a straight answer.)

I teased him, but there was a plea in my voice. I needed answers, not riddles.

“You can call me Harrison, or eldest brother, or, like the others, Patriarch Bodley. What do you mean, half-answer?”

He grinned, pretending to be offended. I just shook my head, smiling despite myself.

“Did you answer my question? I said he already sent people to spread the Word, and you said he thinks he's still the devil. Is that related?”

I pressed him, refusing to let him dodge the question.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were my junior brother, so I responded the way I would to myself. I didn't expect your comprehension to be so lacking. Sorry, I overestimated you.”

He looked at me seriously, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. I rolled my eyes, refusing to rise to the bait.

Bodley looked at me seriously. “Devils are skilled at tempting people, but only if people allow it. The Lord thinks spreading the faith should be like spreading his old devil's gospel: find the weaknesses in human nature, make people accept it willingly. That's why he used a grand event like the journey west to get the world to accept it.”

He spoke with conviction, his words cutting through the night air. I listened, realizing he might be right.

“So, he had me fetch the sacred texts.”

I said it quietly, the truth settling over me like a blanket.

“And there's another reason.” Bodley looked at me, waiting for me to ask.

He loved these moments—dangling the answer just out of reach. I sighed, playing along.

“Half-answer brother, please continue.”

I tried to sound patient, but Bodley just grinned, enjoying the game.

“….” Eldest brother said, “If the journey for the texts is full of hardship, people will naturally believe what's gained is extremely precious.”

His words made sense, in a twisted way. I nodded, understanding at last.

“You mean, although the Lord had me fetch the texts, he would arrange many tribulations along the way?”

It seemed cruel, but I couldn't deny the logic. Bodley just nodded, his face serious.

“When you lose your memory, you'll naturally think the texts you obtained through hardship are invaluable. If he arranges for others to try to steal the texts, you'll not only think it's precious, but also that the task is supremely glorious.”

He leaned back, satisfied. I shook my head, amazed by his insight.

“No wonder you're the half-answer brother.”

I grinned, unable to resist teasing him. Bodley just laughed.

“Of course, there's an even more important reason.”

He paused, waiting for me to ask. I rolled my eyes, giving in.

“Leak brother, please tell me.” (Another of our silly nicknames—'leak brother' because he sometimes let secrets slip.)

I tried to sound exasperated, but Bodley just smiled, enjoying the moment.

“….”

He looked at me, his expression suddenly serious. The mood shifted, the air growing heavy.

Bodley looked at me. “Only by depriving people of the idea of freedom and making everyone believe in the Word can the Lord be supreme.”

His words hit me hard. I sat in silence, trying to process the truth.

“So, you left the Sanctuary.”

It was the only answer that made sense. Bodley nodded, his eyes distant.

“And you stayed.”

I said it quietly, the truth settling over me like a weight.

“You left because you longed for freedom.”

Bodley smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Freedom is a tricky thing," he said.

“You stayed because you wanted freedom not just for yourself.” Bodley looked at me and said, “My kind second brother, do you think you can change anything?”

He asked the question gently, but I heard the challenge beneath the words. I looked away, unsure.

I smiled bitterly. “I'll become a mortal whose sole desire is to fetch the texts, and in the end help the Lord spread his faith throughout the world, turning everyone into believers who only trust in the scriptures.”

The thought was bitter, but I couldn't deny its truth. Bodley just watched, waiting.

“You've given up?”

His voice was soft, but I heard the disappointment. I shook my head, unsure.

“I have to go through ten lifetimes of reincarnation! By then, I'll have forgotten everything and seek the Lord wholeheartedly. Even if I don't give up, what can I do?”

The frustration boiled over, my voice cracking. Bodley just nodded, understanding.

“I can help you.”

He said it simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh?”

I looked at him, hope flickering in my chest.

“I have a disciple, a stone monkey. He crossed the sea to find me and learn the Way. Do you know why?” (The stone monkey was a nod to the legendary Monkey King from old stories—one of Bodley's most famous disciples.)

Bodley changed the subject, as he often did. I frowned, trying to follow.

I didn't understand why Bodley brought up this monkey.

He just smiled, waiting for me to catch up.

“He saw death take away his companion's life, so he wanted to defeat death.”

His words were soft, filled with empathy. I listened, curious despite myself.

“What does that have to do with me? I'm not obsessed with immortality. Life and death aren't the freedom I seek.”

I tried to steer the conversation back, but Bodley just shook his head.

“This monkey is passionate and wild, innocent and romantic. He's a lot like me—he hates being restrained and longs for freedom. One day, he'll be bound by the Lord, but one day, he'll also resist that bondage.”

He spoke with conviction, his eyes shining. I listened, sensing there was more to the story.

“So how can I help him?”

I asked the question, hoping for a straight answer for once.

Bodley told me he had a way to protect me.

He leaned in, lowering his voice. "It's risky," he said, "but it's your best shot."

Even though I still had to go through ten lifetimes of reincarnation, Bodley said rapid reincarnation would help preserve my memory as much as possible.

He explained the process—how moving quickly from life to life would keep my essence intact. It sounded crazy, but I was desperate enough to try.

“Rapid reincarnation?”

I echoed the phrase, trying to wrap my mind around it. Bodley just nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I said you should help that monkey.”

He grinned, enjoying my confusion. I sighed, waiting for him to explain.

“Fork brother, how exactly do I help?” (Yet another nickname—'fork brother' because he always took the conversation in unexpected directions.)

I teased him, hoping to lighten the mood. Bodley just laughed.

“Sometimes I'm half-answer brother, sometimes leak brother, now fork brother? What’s missing, is it because I took you in? If you don't like calling me brother, call me Patriarch Bodley, or Old Man Bodley, I don't mind.”

He winked, pretending to be offended. I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.

“You always answer off-topic, it's unbearable.”

I shook my head, exasperated but amused. Bodley just grinned.

“Impatient little brother, can't you let me finish? You're too impatient.”

He held up a finger, pretending to scold me. I laughed, unable to stay mad.

“Go on.”

I leaned forward, eager for the answer.

“You talk to your brother like this, but I still don't want to smack you…” Bodley patted his own backside, making a show of it for laughs. “But sooner or later I'll hit you!”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the hollow. I shook my head, smiling.

“….”

We've known each other a long time, always bickering and arguing.

Our arguments were legendary—neighbors would sometimes stop by just to listen. But beneath the teasing, there was real affection.

“If I let you reincarnate quickly and help the monkey, it's the same thing,” Bodley said. “You can reincarnate as a peach tree. Then, you can turn your strength and this life into fruit. When the fruit falls, or is eaten, your life in this world ends. And because you were reborn as a tree, your memory and character can be preserved.”

He explained it patiently, drawing diagrams in the dirt. I listened, torn between disbelief and hope.

“So your great plan is to turn me into a peach tree, bear fruit, and have the monkey eat me?”

I tried to sound skeptical, but a part of me was intrigued. Bodley just nodded, as if it were obvious.

“There's still a challenge.”

He paused, waiting for me to ask. I sighed, resigned to the game.

“No, did you even ask my opinion? Turning into a tree, blooming and bearing fruit, doesn't sound pleasant.”

I tried to protest, but Bodley just shrugged.

“Would you rather be reborn as a person, losing your memories and strength bit by bit? Is that any better?”

He raised an eyebrow, challenging me to argue. I shook my head, unable to answer.

“….”

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truths.

“You have no other choice.”

He said it gently, but there was no room for argument. I nodded, accepting my fate.

“Tell me the challenge.”

I braced myself, ready for whatever came next.

“To reincarnate, you have to go to the underworld. I'm not familiar with the Devil's Judge, so you'll need to find someone who is.” Eldest brother looked troubled. (The Devil's Judge was the ruler of the underworld, the only one who could approve such a transformation.)

He frowned, tapping his chin in thought. I waited, unsure what to say.

I just stared at him, saying nothing.

Sometimes, silence is the only answer. Bodley looked away, lost in thought.

“The Devil's Judge is a stubborn man. He's hard to find.”

He said it with a sigh, as if remembering old battles. I nodded, knowing the road ahead wouldn't be easy.

Bodley thought it would be hard to find someone who knew the Devil's Judge, because the Judge is so unyielding. I said nothing, just kept looking at him.

Outside, the wind rustled through the maple leaves, carrying our hopes and doubts into the night. The journey wasn't over—not by a long shot. But for the first time in a long time, I felt ready to face whatever came next.