"That's what he gets for trying to hurt you." Yan Mo says, cooing at the small toy.
"That kid is probably not alone." The vendor says.
"Not my problem," says Yan Mo, carefully inspecting the tiger for any wounds.
"Are you allowed to say stuff like that, Handsome Shao Ye? Are your sisters not in town?"
"They are."
"Don't want another month-long punishment, do we?"
Yan Mo sighs while stuffing the tiger into his outer coat. "You just had to remind me, didn't you?" The vendor nods and smiles as Yan Mo chases after the two buffoons. He cuts down an alley dodging carts and children before ending up on the main street in front of the chase. The thief, a boy no older than 12, looks astounded to find his way suddenly blocked.
"Little friend! You know stealing is bad, right?" The kid's eyes grow wide as Yan Mo approaches him. He frantically searches for an escape route when Curly finally catches up out of breath. "Give the monster back his money, and we'll forget all about this whole thing, okay?" The kid slightly shakes his head, then darts off to his left just as a cart pulls by.
"Hey!" Curly calls, "You aren't going to go after him?"
"Why should I? It's your money." Yan Mo says.
Huffing Curly looks down the street that the kid had gone following in pursuit. Yan Mo rolls his eyes slowly following. Curly makes it to another intersection, looking around confused.
"Left," Yan Mo calls casually from behind. Curly shoots him a glare before taking his advice and heading down the busy street. For someone so built, Curly lacked in the endurance department. The uncanny duo followed the kid until they were out of the city and onto one of the less frequently traveled roads after turning down a bend in the path, the two stop in their tracks. The thief was no longer alone. Surrounding him were five other equally scruffy looking men, bigger but still scruffy looking.
"Give me back my pouch!" Curly demands.
"If you want it, come get it!" the kid says, taunting.
Yan Mo shakes his head, "The vendor was right? How long have you guys been operating together?"
"Six months," one member proudly says before promptly being struck in the gut by a short and wide guy. The leader Yan Mo presumed.
"What's it to you?" the wide guy asks.
"I need to know at least what is going on before stepping in. Do you guys know him?” Yan Mo asks, pointing to Curly. The crowd shakes their heads no, "Has he ever done any wrong to anyone?"
"We dunno."
"Do you know them?" Yan Mo asks the giant.
"No!" he says, frustrated. Yan Mo nods approaching the group slowly. The warm aura surrounding Yan Mo turned cold, causing a few of the members to step back out of fear. Tension riddled silence fills the forest just as Yan Mo stops midway then smiles. "Give the wicked curly man back his money, please?" Unnerved by Yan Mo's sudden gentle nature, the thieves laugh.
"You have got to be kidding me." Curly says, approaching the group, "You can keep the money just give me the pouch." Alarmed by the sudden movement, one of the thieves pulls out a knife. On reflex, Yan Mo flicks his finger, casting a gush of energy to knock the knife from the thieves' hand.
"Cultivators! You stole from cultivators!" Panic runs through the group.
"How was I supposed to know they are cultivators! He has no sword!" the little thief cries.
"Not all cultivators carry giant swords around, okay?" Yan Mo says, insulted.
The leader of the group tried to compose himself, "Cultivators aren't allowed to interfere in noncultivator matters!" he said with minimal confidence yet still earned the approval from his troops.
Yan Mo crosses his arms, "Didn't I just say that no all cultivators carry weapons?"
The kid shocked looks toward Curly, "You're a cultivator?"
Curly nods, annoyed, "So give me back my pouch. You can have the money in it." Just as the kid nods okay and begins to empty the pouch, the leader stops him.
"Wait. The tall one doesn't look like a cultivator. It's a trick!" the thief leader proclaims.
"What is a cultivator supposed to look like?" asks one thief.
"I dunno. But it ain't the big one."
"How do we know he could be one of those hidden secret masters?"
"Does a hidden secret master get his purse lifted by a kid?" The thieves all nod their heads in agreement. As expected, their wide leader was wise.
"Okay enough," Yan Mo says, jumping into action. Quicker than anyone could register, Yan Mo swipes the pouch from the kid. Two of the thieves lunge to attack, but he dodges their unstable fist. The leader seemed to be the best fighter among them. His punches would have connected if Yan Mo was an ordinary citizen. After weaving his way through the little crowd, Yan Mo tosses Curly his pouch.
Yan Mo shouts, "You know you could help," while dodging a flying kick. Curly stuffs the pouch in his pocket before sighing and joining the fight. Though he was taking a few punches, with size alone, Curly has able to contribute to the uneven squabble by pushing the assailants aside. After their collaborative effort. The thieves were left groaning on the forest floor. Catching their breath Yan Mo observes the panting giant. Even though he was a monster who was going to torture the innocent, he was still cute. Fixated on his subject, Yan Mo watches a bead of sweat trickles down Curly's forehead over his round cheeks and down his smooth chin. Yan Mo was wondering how someone tall could look so delicate when their eyes meet. Suddenly a tightness wound around Yan Mo's chest. Yan Mo's face crumbles into confusion as he tries to recognize the unfamiliar sensation. He was suddenly hyper-aware of his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. The giant breaks eye contact, first loosening the spell.
"You're welcome," Yan Mo says, eyeing the tree line for the culprit who could be the cause of the fluttering in his chest.
"Thank you," Curly says with a roll of his eyes.
"Are you taking them to the Magistrate?"
"No. I'm just passing through. There's no point." Pulling out the recovered pouch, Curly begins to examine it. He mumbles curious Yan Mo walks closer. The coin purse is a navy blue embroidered with a yellow flower.
"From your wife?" Yan Mo asks, causing the giant to jump. Curly hadn't noticed Yan Mo's proximity. "If you had just let me have the tiger, none of this would have happened." A red tinge rises on the Curly's cheek. Yan Mo giggles, this giant was adorable. "Maybe next time be kinder, and everything will work out for you." Yan Mo smiles as the red deepens to his ears and neck.
"Where are you headed?"
"Home," Curly said curtly.
"Make sure you don't get robbed again. I won't be there to help you next time."
"Even if I were in danger, I wouldn't ask you for help. I never did in the first place."
"It's my duty to help the helpless." Yan Mo taunts.
"I'm not helpless!"
"Oh, then why are we here in the first place?"
The two were so involved in their own banter. Neither noticed when one of the thieves rose from off the ground. Yan Mo only had time to pull Curly out of the line of fire. As he kicked the thief in the chest, a cloud of white powder burst into the air. Inhaling, the mysterious substance Yan Mo begins to stagger. He swats another one of the thieves away before collapsing to the ground. He tries to fight the weight pulling at his eyelids, but it was too late. The world was spinning and dragging Yan Mo with it as he surrendered to the darkness; he only had one thought.
His sisters would never let him live down the embarrassment of losing to a gang of scruffy humans.
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