Junzi Imperialis
by Aria Shum
“Here we report a new, globally extinct genus and species of gibbon, Junzi imperialis, described from a partial cranium and mandible from a ~2,200-2,300 year-old tomb from Shaanxi, China.”
There was once a monkey, the princess of a certain kingdom, who spent her days staring out palace windows and squinting at the sun. In the mornings, attendants adorned her furry body in dainty hanfu, slipped her small feet into embroidered shoes, and crowned her head with hanging gold and imperial jade. For breakfast, she ate a filling meal with her emperor father and two prince brothers; there were always many, many different foods. Shrimp dumplings, fermented bean curd, cheung fun rolled with belly meat. In the afternoons, there was nothing to do, nothing to do at all! At least for her royal highness—the monkey princess majesty.
So with nothing to do and no one to bother, she walked around the imperial gardens. She gazed at chrysanthemums and orchids entwined in each other in flower dance. She wandered into libraries and read classics of Li Bai—and when she tired of those: stories of dynasties long gone by. When it came dinnertime, she wandered back out to the gardens.
As the ticklish tallgrass brushed her cheeks, she smiled. Every day was a good day to be a monkey, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
But somehow, as the days went on, her morning gazing sessions grew longer and longer. At first, it was only breakfast that was taken to her room in order to look wistfully out the window. Then, dinner—in favor of more wandering of the library and strolling of the gardens. It was simply preposterous. Not sitting at the table? And neglecting the only time she could spend with her imperial father and prince brothers! The most renowned doctors in the kingdom were summoned, yet none of them could diagnose a problem with the princess. The only way to convince her to eat was to offer the food in either the library or in front of her window—where the curtains opened to a sprawling view of the city. It was as if her soul became bonded to those two places.
Yet unbeknownst to everyone in the palace, there was nothing wrong with the princess. In fact, it was not a sickness that plagued her, rather, a fascination no doctor could cure. There was something enchanting about the way the sun peeked through the marvelous capital, how dawn fell upon low-slung rooftops, casting trembling shadows onto the animals that scurried among the streets.
So once evening fell and guards grew weary, the mischievous monkey princess opened her windows and snuck her way out. From roof to roof, she leaped, with long and lanky arms swinging her from each ledge. And from the rooftops, she spotted what seemed to be a festival. At its sight, she shivered with delight—a festival! She often overheard palace maids and eunuchs giggling about these sorts of things—how delicious the street food was, how wonderful all the performances were, and how handsome the lead role tigers were. Just the thought of falling into the arms of a rugged tiger was enough to make her giddy with excitement.
What would he do? she wondered.
Whisk her away and explore the world with her? Take her to the oceans of sand she’d only dreamed of, dance with her among infinite, verdant plains speckled with wildflowers? Or perhaps, hold her gently by the hand and confess his undying love in a secluded alleyway, alive with the ambiance of festival dance?
There was only one way to find out.
So, with the grace of a gibbon and the eagerness of a child, the imperial princess set off towards the lights. As she drew closer, the festival grew more like a fire of clamorous singing and dancing. In the center of town there stood a towering bonfire that scraped the black edges of sky, a hoard of animals encircling the roaring monument in ceaseless revelry.
And dancing, dancing, dancing in a circle around the fire were three pigs, each entwined around the other, each saying something to another. One was dressed in soldier’s armor, another in rebel’s attire, and the last in maiden’s clothes. Both knelt at the maiden’s feet and both kissed her hand, asking: Which do you love more? Me… …Or this country?
Love? The princess was enraptured by this question. She could see that one was quite good-looking—and upon further inspection, she grew even more confused. The rebel had the appearance of a simple commoner, not so traditionally handsome, but not bad-looking either. But the soldier… oh, the soldier! He was much more dashing than the other, boasting a prominent nose, well-shaped ears, and smooth skin. If one pig was much more handsome, shouldn’t the choice be obvious to the maiden? There was no need for deliberation!
Yet before she could hear the answer, a small, brown dog shoved her in the side—toppling her over and dirtying her clean commoner clothes. Laughing, he gestured at the hoard of animals standing behind them, the little rats and rabbits too. “Doesn’t everyone learn in school to leave the front row seats for the smallest ones?”
Oh, the nerve.
How dare he offend the royal monkey majesty? Biting back her harsher retorts, the princess shook the shame off her fur and scoffed at the dog. “If I’m blocking everyone’s view, then you are guilty of the same crime!”
The dog tossed his head with delight. “Well, I suppose so!” he laughed. “Since we are both guilty, then why don’t we exchange reparations for forgiveness?”
Forgiveness? How audacious of this dog! Who was he to push around the imperial princess of the kingdom? With her snubby nose stuck up in the air, the princess nearly refused the preposterous proposal of the street dog, but saved herself just in time. Regardless of her royal status, in the streets, she was no one but a commoner. How could she forget? So at this reminder, she bowed her head in apology and accepted the dog’s offer.
Returning upright, she pondered—what would she have to offer up in forgiveness? The dog sensed her dilemma, his eyes taking on a slyish gleam.
“You know, monkey, I’m quite the fan of street food…”
At the mention of street food, the princess’ mouth watered instantly. Streetfood like the food her personal guard Zhuang Hu would sometimes bring back? She could clearly remember the fragrant smell of the meat while he taunted her with it, keeping it just out of reach with his big striped claws… that mongrel! She would show him just who is the master of the streets!
After some time of walking together, they happened across a food stall with a line of considerable length snaking across the street. Gesturing with his tail, he smiled and said, “This stand always has the best leg meat.”
They looked on at the collection of butchered biceps and forearms, noses and ears skewered on sticks, hands and feet thrown in a vat of fragrant broth, wide arrays of thighs and calves on display—the collection all bigger than she. Had street food always been this big? The legs Zhuang Hu brought back that one time weren’t even half the size of these!
Mei nü, the dog smiled again, this time a little devilishly. He informed her of the exorbitant prices of the stand—at least twenty copper pieces for one serving. It didn’t seem too outrageous to the princess, but, with her robes almost sagging with twenty pieces of silver hidden within the folds, she decidedly deemed herself a poor judge of this dilemma.
“Well, just watch,” the dog said as he walked right past the line, pretending to scan over the hand-painted menu. “Do you know what you want?”
The princess pondered for a moment. “I’ll have leg meat!” she decided.
“Alright, since you’re having the leg meat, I’ll have the ear skewers. That way, we can both share something different with each other.” He smiled, then nodded toward a small building some ways down the street. “Be a dear and wait for me over there, will you? It’ll only be a few minutes.” And with that, the street dog dashed off, disappearing right into the crowd.
He returned in a few minutes, just as promised, carrying their dinner in a paper-wrapped parcel. Panting slightly, he set it down further into the alleyway, surveying their surroundings before opening it up. At once, the savory scent of meat blessed the princess’ nose. There were five ear skewers, and at least three heaping servings of roasted leg meat, all of it glistening, steaming, sizzling, as if stolen straight from the furnace. With one smooth motion, the dog took an ear skewer and tossed it at the monkey’s feet.
“See if this suits your tongue!”
The princess hesitated for a small moment. Hadn’t Emperor Father always told her to watch for poison within her meals? But the dog, shiny-eyed and smiling, didn’t seem like a malicious animal to her. Why would a dog want to kill some commoner anyways?
She looked back up nervously, checking to see if the dog had eaten yet, but he was just staring at her with a smile strung across his face. She whipped her head back down, pretending to inspect the meat further. With one hesitant hand, she prodded at the ears, then stuck her nose over and took a good, long whiff of the roasted leg meat. What did poison smell like? she wondered.
“Ah, monkey,” the dog paced impatiently. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and eat a bit! It’s the best food from the streets, wouldn’t you want to try?” The princess’ willpower finally buckled under the dog’s incessant whining. With the curiosity of a child and the caution of one too, she brought up the skewer and took a giant bite.
Oh my.
If this was the best food from the streets, what had this princess been fed her entire life? Not even the imperial palace’s most finely-crafted banquets matched a satisfaction that this carelessly roasted street skewer provided so casually. Seeing her eyes light with delight, the dog smiled yet again and tossed her a generous serving of leg meat, which she happily accepted.
Late, late into the night did the two stay. The dog munched and crunched on leftover bones; the monkey chewed on noses. The food never seemed to run out either, and each time the dog left, he came back with a different type of meat. He even brought out the smaller and softer variants of legs that looked more similar to what Zhuang Hu had! And after they ate their fill, the dog and the monkey lay in the cobble-lined alley and dusted off their bellies, nevermind the grime on the street. The princess was ecstatic. Never before had she had so much food, and what a joy it was!
Then, the dog brought up the city’s central library. Had she ever been there? he asked. Of course, the princess hadn’t a clue where it was. The only library she needed was the imperial library tucked away behind palace walls. So with a smile crossed stupidly wide about her face, she answered: No! Only the library in her father’s studies, which contained only a hundred books! Xiao gou, since you read every day, why don’t you teach me which books are the best?
The dog sighed and sighed about how he was a bad teacher, but alas, succumbed to the never-ending pleas of the ever-so-spoiled monkey princess. As such, they talked until they reached the end of things they wanted to say, laughing and crying, then laughing again. First, the dog told tales of historical records, setting the change of dynasties with a storied
spin. The princess listened, utterly raptured by these now-captivating tales. So history can be taught in this way!
Then after the dog finished speaking, it was the princess’ turn. Under the guise of a small commoner family, she told tales of folly regarding maids and eunuchs, and when she tired of that, narrated squabbles and scuffles between her prince brothers and Zhuang Hu. Though the dog didn’t seem too interested in her family feuds, he did sit all the way up whenever she mentioned her incredibly hard-working father.
Of course, the princess started talking more about him, and of course the dog listened, ears perked up all the way and tail brushing the walls of the alley. Of course, he paid attention to every word she said, every detail she mentioned, every name she brought up. But just as the princess was nearing the end of her tales and felt the tapering out of speech come across her, she remembered, suddenly, why she agreed to come out with the dog in the first place. The play with the pigs! How could she forget?
“Hey, xiao gou,” she said. “Since I’ve told you so much about my humble little life, why don’t you answer this question for me?”
“Ask away, dear monkey!” The dog was very content with this exchange of information.
“So in the play we saw earlier, the maiden is forced to choose between two suitors: the soldier and the rebel.”
“Correct.”
“She is forced to choose which one she… loves more.”
“Also correct.”
Staring at the stars peeking out above the narrow alleyway, she frowned. “Xiao gou, what does that mean? What do they mean by love? One pig was clearly more handsome, so shouldn’t she just pick him? I don’t quite understand the problem of choosing…”
With a sigh, the dog flipped over on his side. “Mei nü, what you’re asking is very complicated…”
“Well, I am smart!”
“I know you are! It’s just different for everyone, and for most everyone, ‘love’ goes beyond what is most naturally appealing.” The dog paused, pondering for a moment. “There’s a lot to say about what love is, and I could go on and on and on about it, it’s such a finicky idea. But I like to think about it this way: the other being is more important than the self. So much more important! Their well-being is all that matters to you, you would do all sorts of things just for them to be happy, and when it comes down to it all, maybe you would even die for them.”
“Die?!”
“Yes. Isn’t it natural? Life-changing things should be worth as much as other life-changing things. Or in this case, life-ending. Anyways, the most important thing is—listen to me, dear monkey, don’t wander off just yet—the most important thing is that you’ll know it when you feel it.”
The princess frowned again. This just made her even more confused! How can she know what it is supposed to feel like when she hasn’t felt it before? And all this talk about dying as well… What a somber dog, she thought.
But just as she was about to ask more about love, death, and all that, she felt the ground tremble beneath her head. “Xiao gou,” she said, a little nervously. “Do you feel that?” Now frowning and serious, the dog trotted to the mouth of the alleyway and carefully looked out. “Yes… I can feel that,” he replied, motioning for her to get up. “Monkey, I think it’s time that you go home now.”
“Is it something bad?” she asked.
“No… nothing terrible at all,” he replied. “It’s just a big crowd coming this way, but I’m worried they may invade the alleyway!”
“But I have so many questions…”
“I’ll answer them another time, okay? Don’t be hasty now, I’ll meet you here again, in four mornings from now, okay?”
“But…”
The dog sighed a little fondly. “The night is also late. Come on, monkey. I’ll lead you out.”
The monkey finally relented to the dog’s gentle coercion. Admittedly, she was quite tired and talking so much with the dog had exhausted her. So she moved to the dog’s side and he led her out. Though they managed to avoid the crowd, the monkey caught a glimpse of them on their way back. She couldn’t remember much besides the dog beside her, nudging her onwards, urging her not to look back. That, and the flood of yellow scarves, donned by all the animals in the parade. There was almost a river of the hue.
On the first day, she awoke in her bedchambers and called for her personal maid, Chunjie. She couldn’t wait to tell these stories! Of course, her personal maid had already heard about the festival and the play of the maiden, soldier, and rebel, but with patience, she listened as the princess talked on and on about the performance, and when she was finished, she asked ecstatically: what does love feel like?
In response, her maid sat back and thought about all the monkey men she had entertained herself with in her younger years. Oh, how the years left her! Was it already time for the young princess to begin wondering about these things now? With a sigh, she gave her answer. Of course, it was the shivering of her heart and the trembling of her soul in the presence of another!
“Dear imperial princess,” Chunjie said, somewhat wistfully. “When you are with the right person, you will feel as light as a bird in the sky—and when you love them, you will
have a sense of eternal flight. Inside your chest, there will be the flutter of a thousand snow-white wings. There is nothing you cannot do in the name of love!” And with that, Chunjie sighed again and wiped a tear from her eye. The princess nodded in understanding, but she really didn’t understand at all. She had never been a bird, nor had she ever taken flight. And wings in her chest? It didn’t make too much sense.
On the second day, she came across her prince brother in the training yard. Under the scorching sun and cloudless sky, he fought fiercely with the wooden puppet and the clash of metal sword against dense wood almost sent her running. But, she steeled herself. Did she want this question answered or not? Of course the answer was yes.
So she let out a great big yell, crying for her prince brother to stop and come to her side. But he was so enamored with fighting his wooden dummy that he didn’t even hear her.
So she scampered over, and in her excitement told him about the story of the maiden, soldier, and rebel; of course, she did all this while pretending she heard it from her personal maid. And of course, she asked him the cornerstone question. Gege, what does love feel like?
In response, her prince brother simply scoffed. Of course, it was the feeling of a regal lady monkey’s body under him. That, or the bursting energy of spar and war. Nothing else!
“Meimei,” he continued, somewhat haughtily. “It’s like a giant storm, and in your body, you feel the sensation of swallowing thunder and spitting out fire. You’ll know it when you feel it, but I don’t think you would get it, because all you do is read and spend time at your window. This kind of storm doesn’t come to you unless you look for it.” Then turning his back to her, he went back to fighting with the wooden dummy.
Sighing, the princess scampered away, back into the palace and into her hallway. A storm, huh?
On the third day, as she was wandering the palace, she came across Zhuang Hu, relaxing in the courtyard. It was a mild afternoon, still sunny, and the willows he lounged under swayed gently in the soft-spoken wind. Between his paws lay a small book, dwarfed by the size of him, but he gingerly flipped the page with one claw, seeming to not notice her.
In search of a more understandable (and less condescending) answer, she called out his name and ran up to him. Describing the story again, she ended with the same cornerstone question like she had before. What does love feel like?
In response, Zhuang Hu closed the book, pondered for a moment, then answered. Of course, it was the feeling of sitting by a quiet brookside. Paired with a gentle kiss from that person.
“Your highness,” he said, somewhat fondly. “Love, to me, is something of the calmer kind. It sneaks up on you like a good-hearted night, and its expression is more like the moon and its reflection, rather than a glorious blazing sun. Its feeling is one of still water and quiet pastures. Do you understand?”
Furrowing her eyebrows, the princess pretended to understand yet again, but was dumbstruck by the difference in the answers she received. All these feelings were completely foreign! How was she supposed to know the correct answer?
The princess gave her thanks to Zhuang Hu, then headed back to her bedchambers. Sitting at the window, she stared and stared at the sky until the sun set and the stars winked at her from above. At least I will be seeing the dog tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
The monkey princess awoke to exactly three curls of fire licking at the posts of her bed. Outside her chambers, she could hear distant yelling and the sound of people running, but all she wanted to do was admire the flames. They were so beautiful… like little spirits, and it was even a little warmer than she was used to. She didn’t mind though, since the chambers were usually too cold, and now, her bed was so, so warm… like the embrace of another. The princess sighed with contentment and slid further under her covers. She hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time. But just as she was about to fall back asleep, someone ripped the covers off her tiny body and she yelped at the sudden burst of cool air.
“Princess, what are you doing!?” Chunjie screamed, shaking her by the shoulders. “Thank the heavens you’re alive, but can’t you see? We have to get out, now!”
“But, but… Chunjie, it’s so warm here. I don’t wanna be cold again…”
“Who gives a damn about the cold? These are your emperor father’s orders!” Chunjie tossed the princess off her bed and started scrabbling at the drawers near the nightstand, digging through the contents and tossing everything about until she found a certain object. It was only a jade stamp of sorts, but Chunjie shoved it into the princess’ hands and glared at her, eyes as hard as rock.
“Princess,” she said, looking intently into her eyes. “You are going to run, okay? I cannot accompany you, but after this is all over I will try to find you. Princess, promise me two things, alright? Just two things. You will stop for nothing. And do not lose this seal or let anyone see it! Otherwise, you are as good as dead. Understood?”
Holding back tears, the monkey princess nodded. Chunjie… she had never seen Chunjie like this. But she held fast to the seal and bolted out of the chamber, looking back just once. All she could see was the beautiful fire surging around the palace; like a voracious woman and her stoic mate, they danced.
She ran and ran and ran and ran. She passed rows of emptied houses, seas of shops, glades of burning temples, and even screaming parades like she saw that night. Everywhere she looked, scarves of yellow hanging from the doorways, and a distant yelling she felt was drawing near. The princess had never run so much before. So many times she tripped over her own tail, snagged her fingers and toes on hard rock, scraped her elbows and knees on the street, but still she kept running, with her fist locked tight around the seal. Chunjie… Zhuang Hu… Gege… father… anyone! Please, dear heavens, let someone find this poor monkey… she can’t go on for any longer…!
“Monkey? Hey. Monkey.”
Somehow she’d fallen again, but this time into someone.
“Sorry… so sorry, mister, I have to keep running, I have to…” she mumbled, half-dazed. “I made a promise… please don’t stop me…”
“Monkey!”
“Stop, I have to keep going…”
“Mei nü!”
Finally, the princess snapped out of it. “Xiao gou?” she exclaimed, a little frightful. “Why are you here?”
“What a vain girl, only responding to mei nü,” the dog laughed. “I’m also running! So let’s run together, okay? Come on now,” he said, nudging her into the nearby alleyway. The princess was still somewhat in shock, her monkey eyes blown wide with panic, but she allowed herself to be led away by the dog. Their legs a flurry below them, they sprinted down the cobblestone path.
All the while, she stared wondrously at the dog—examining the subtle gleam in his eye, an impossible quickening of his pounding heart that she could feel through her fluttering robes—he seemed unable to break eye contact. She thought, for a moment, as they ducked into another half-obstructed alleyway, that he mouthed yet another mei nü, mei nü.
Suddenly,— the glimpse of sword-metal and spear, something whistling through the alleyway headed straight for the dog. The monkey didn’t know what overcame her, what instinct urged her to move, but the next thing she saw, right through her body was a lance twice the height of her, engorging itself in her like a stake over spit, the exit wound a fleshy, blossoming flower. Out of her abdomen dangled useless bulging tendrils, maybe intestines or half a shredded stomach, pierced through and shiny with black blood. Then, a cleave of white bone, smiling up at the dog, daring him to bite.
“Xiao gou…” she choked out. Thickened blood spilled over the edge of her lips. Out the corner of her eye, she glimpsed familiar stripes. Maybe a tiger of sorts, perhaps someone she had known, yet all she could look at was the dog. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she still wanted to know. But all she could manage was a simple word of command. Live.
Immediately, without a word, the dog picked up her still-bleeding body and slung her across his back, racing off into the streets. The monkey buried her face deep into the dog’s fur.
What day was it again? She blinked hazily, trying to remember. Oh right… she was supposed to meet the dog in the alleyway. He was supposed to answer her questions. And they were supposed to dance together. There should’ve been a festival as well. Outside in the streets, she dreamed of a gorgeous song, but inside the alley it would be quiet.
In her chest, something warm was pooling. Not her blood—that was growing cold, but instead, something stranger. Not a fire, rather, the embers of one. And a dream. Between the buildings, a strip of night sky, and in the night sky the dangling silver moon, ripe with unfilled promises.
Live. Won’t you live?
The dog ran and ran. He ran and ran and ran and ran. Carrying her tiny body on his back, locking her deadweight arms in his jaws, he ranhrough narrow alleys, past yellow scarf-woven seas and dust-paven rural roads. So far he ran that the familiar capital city, raucous and roaring, appeared as only a tiny diamond on a small hill. For days on end he ran, only stopping to drink from small brooks and wells. Not once did he let go of the monkey princess. Love. Was that what he was teaching her about? What a damning thing, he thought.
He lost count around day five of running. The hand of chaos seemed to have spread far and wide, each town he came across waving a yellow scarf from its main gates. The princess’ blood stuck matted to his dirtied fur but perhaps he had run far enough now. It had been a couple days since he last saw a town. Water was no trouble to find. This blessed land had many rivers braiding within its belly, but hunger gnawed at his psyche like poison. With the arms of the monkey princess still locked in his jaw, with the tantalizing flesh of her royally-fed and pampered body, he had resisted for this long. But as he set her down and looked upon the hole searing straight through her body, something smiled to the inside of him. The wicked urge to tear those limbs from their body. To devour them tobone.
Won’t you live? Those grinning insides seemed to say to him.
Adamant, the dog refused. He closed his eyes and slung the princess’ body again upon his back. There were still some ways to go before they escaped the kingdom entirely.
After a few more days, the dog wandered upon the outskirts of a desert and its oasis. Fortunately, there was a water source and the dog rested easy, though he still had not found any food besides small, small shrews. It was much too hot to travel. The sun beat down on blinding white sand, and even the usually blue sky was much too bright to look at. Always,
the dog made sure that the princess laid in the shade. And always he made sure to close her slacked jaw. Desert sand was not a fit meal for someone like her.
When night fell, the dog, once again, moved to carry her. Closing his eyes, avoiding the gleam of her bone. Bowing his head in prayer. Yet still, he felt the remains of her smile up at him.
Won’t you live? The near-choking scent of meat, tenderized and nearly too ripe, grazed his nose.
He slung up the princess’ body, falling apart at the seams of her leathered skin, and carried her through the desert night. They were almost there.
At last, after days of wandering the desert, the pair finally wandered upon some verdant plains. Gently did the grass sway underneath them. Softly did the wind sigh through the brush. Along the skyline stood rolling hills, no more than small curves in the horizon, terrain fit for galloping horses. The clouds painted small streaks of white against a sky almost too blue to look at. For many li, there were only grasslands visible. Occasionally, a river crossed the countryside, but besides that, nothing more. They were finally out of the kingdom.
Delirious, the dog set down his beloved princess. Limp she lay, and slack jawed again, mouth hanging open, eyes half lidded. Her body was stiff to the touch, and those previously gracious limbs were locked in the position she died. Longingly, the dog gazed at her. Those lovely white bones were still smiling up at him. The hole shredded through her torso twisted in a seductive grin. He was so, so hungry.
Won’t you live?
From beyond the grave, he could’ve sworn a twinkle in her long-gone eyes, the slightest movement of breath, a fleeting warmth to her small body. With apologetic reverence, the dog opened his mouth, saliva drooling out, and took a small limb in his mouth.
At first it was only that limb. Only her right arm. But the meat seemed so tender. Her body was supple and soft, as if she only recently died. So he took a bite of her other arm. Then her legs. Even the blood caked all over her fur tasted of something sickly sweet. Before he knew it, he had consumed the entirety of her corpse, save her skull, which he left half-eaten.
Then, the dog laid down. Cradling the remains of the princess next to him, he closed his eyes and leaned into the soil.
In grasslands where indifferent skies hum
simple melodies between grassblades,
now undone, there sings a coupling.
Holding, their breath softens.
Almost too tender, nearly idyllic: a gasp.
Her beautiful spilling blue— The quieted sky, and all. Dearest sweetheart. Of hills, not yet bloomed,
someday, I’ll sing to you again.
Aria Shum is a poet and prose-writer from Chicago, Illinois. She is currently studying violin performance at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Outside of music and writing, she enjoys exploring rooftops at three in the morning and going on hundred-mile drives. More of her work can be found on aria-shum.carrd.co.
COLD SIGNAL 