Night fell like a curtain over the quiet village. Lanterns flickered in
doorways, and the streets cleared as vendors packed up their stalls. From
the upstairs window of the teahouse, Taotao scowled at his reflection — still
in the floral skirt, scarf, and clutching a wicker basket.
> "I am risking my life dressed as a middle-aged cabbage seller," he
muttered.
> "And you'll risk more if you don't bring something back," Ju Xian replied
sweetly from the corner, sharpening a pair of borrowed scissors. "Try not to
steal from anyone too poor. And don't get caught."
> "Helpful. Very helpful."
Taotao crept into the street, hunching like a dutiful village wife on a late
errand. He had scoped the area earlier: a merchant with too many goods
and not enough locks. A jewelry box left half open. A coin pouch hanging too
carelessly from a belt. Tempting.
He moved with practiced ease, his fake limp convincing, his basket clutched
like he was buying tofu instead of plotting petty theft.
As he neared the merchant's side shed, he whispered, "Alright, Taotao. Just
a quick lift, no drama…"
He reached out for the unattended coin pouch tied to the merchant's cart.
> "Can I help you, auntie?" came a voice from behind.
Taotao froze.
He turned, slowly, flashing a toothy grin. "Oh—just admiring your… rope
quality. Very sturdy."
The young guard squinted. "Haven't seen you before."
> "Newly married," Taotao said with a sudden falsetto, fluttering his
eyelashes. "Moved into town with my strong, silent husband. You know how
it is. Always following him around like a silly goose."
The guard blinked, unsettled. "Uh… well. Alright then. Be careful, auntie."
As the guard walked off, Taotao swiped the pouch cleanly and disappeared
around the corner.
Back at the teahouse, Ju Xian was waiting with her arms crossed.
> "You took long enough," she said.
He dropped the pouch into her lap. "I just robbed someone while pretending
to be your wife. I deserve soup."
> "You deserve an award," she said with a smirk. "I'm starting to think you
were made for the role."
> "I will strangle you with this scarf."
They both laughed quietly.
Outside, the village returned to its peaceful rhythm — unaware that fate,
dressed in rags and floral prints, had just passed through.