The courtyard was quiet, the moon hanging high as fireflies danced lazily in the night breeze. Han Yu leaned against the doorway while Fatty Kui plopped himself onto a nearby stone bench, looking oddly excited for someone about to go on a possibly dangerous mission.
"Alright. I need to do a mission soon anyway, so may as well go with you," Han Yu agreed. With Fatty Kui around, it was bound to be chaotic—possibly idiotic—but never boring.
"So," Han Yu started, "what exactly is this mission you're dragging me into?"
Fatty Kui cleared his throat and tried to sit up straighter, puffing out his chest like a pigeon with a secret. "The mission is... to retrieve a sword!"
Han Yu blinked. "...A sword?"
"Yes!" Fatty Kui nodded sagely, as if it were the most profound statement in the history of cultivation.
"You do realize that if the sect starts sending major missions just to retrieve lost cutlery, we're going to be spending our lives chasing after runaway soup spoons, right?"
