As usual, Lu Mao spent his morning perched high above the restless sprawl of Azure Sky City.
A cracked rooftop beam stretched beneath him, sun-warmed and splintered with age. He sat astride it comfortably, legs swinging lazily over empty air while the city roared far below.
In one hand rested a half-eaten dumpling.
Plump.
Greasy.
Perfectly stolen.
Lu Mao took another bite, chewing slowly while surveying the streets like a satisfied king overlooking his domain.
Today was dumpling day.
Every few weeks, when luck, hunger, and opportunity aligned in the right way, Lu Mao declared one.
Dumpling days were sacred.
On dumpling days the world could wait.
Guards could chase someone else.
Merchants could complain to the wind.
Debt, danger, and destiny could stand politely in line until he finished eating.
Lu Mao leaned back slightly against the crooked beam, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun.
Azure Sky City stretched endlessly beneath him.
The morning marketplace had already erupted into its usual chaos.
Stalls crammed every available inch of the narrow streets below, merchants shouting prices with the ferocity of generals declaring war. Steam drifted upward from iron pots and bamboo baskets. The smell of soy sauce, fried dough, sweat, and ambition blended into the unique perfume of the city.
Children darted between adults like small thieves in training.
Porters staggered beneath heavy crates.
Somewhere a butcher hacked through bone with rhythmic thuds.
Azure Sky City was alive.
Lu Mao liked it that way.
He took another bite of his dumpling and sighed contentedly.
But then—
A faint sound broke through the morning noise.
Boots.
Firm.
Impatient.
Getting closer.
Lu Mao sighed.
"Can't a man eat in peace?"
He leaned forward slightly and peered over the edge of the rooftop.
The answer revealed itself immediately.
A boy pushed through the crowd below with the determined fury of someone who had already decided he was the hero of this story.
Emerald robes shimmered as he moved.
Lotus embroidery glimmered faintly along the sleeves.
Lu Mao groaned softly.
"Oh great."
"This hero of justice again."
The boy stopped directly beneath the rooftop and looked up.
His expression burned with righteous indignation.
"You there!"
His voice cut through the marketplace.
"Stop right now!"
Lu Mao blinked lazily.
Then he glanced down at the dumpling still resting in his hand.
Then back at the furious cultivator.
"This?" Lu Mao asked innocently, lifting it slightly.
"It looked lonely."
"I gave it purpose."
The boy's face reddened instantly.
"You mock me?"
He pointed his sword upward, directly at Lu Mao.
"You dare insult a disciple of the Dawn Lotus Sect?"
Lu Mao chewed thoughtfully.
Then swallowed.
"You've got dumpling bits on your chin," he said helpfully.
"Maybe wipe that first before threatening people."
The boy froze.
Then slowly drew his sword with a sharp hiss of steel.
"I'll teach you respect, street rat!"
Lu Mao groaned and tossed the half-eaten dumpling aside.
"Here we go again."
He stretched lazily, arms reaching toward the sky.
"Alright, Lotus Boy."
"Let's dance."
The boy—Chen Rong, if Lu Mao remembered correctly—leapt upward with surprising speed.
His sword cut through the air in a sharp arc.
A faint shimmer of qi wrapped around the blade.
Nothing lethal.
But definitely painful.
Lu Mao dropped from the rooftop at the exact moment the sword struck.
Tiles exploded behind him as steel shattered clay.
He landed softly on the street below and rolled through the crowd like smoke slipping through cracks.
"Sorry—excuse me—important thief business!"
The marketplace exploded into chaos.
Vendors shouted.
Baskets overturned.
Ducks flapped wildly into the air.
Lu Mao darted through the crowd with easy grace, weaving between startled merchants and confused shoppers.
Behind him, Chen Rong charged forward like a furious storm.
His sword slashed through hanging banners.
A fruit stand toppled as he passed.
Oranges spilled across the cobblestones like scattered gold coins.
"You can't run forever, thief!"
Lu Mao vaulted over a low stall.
"I don't need forever!"
"Just long enough for you to trip!"
As if the heavens themselves appreciated the joke—
Chen Rong's foot landed squarely on one of the rolling oranges.
His balance vanished instantly.
Arms windmilled.
Then—
He crashed face-first into a cart piled high with fresh fish.
The splash echoed across the market.
Lu Mao landed lightly on a nearby roof and looked down.
Chen Rong sat stunned in the middle of the cart, soaked from head to toe.
Fish scales clung stubbornly to his hair.
Lu Mao grinned.
"The heavens really do have a sense of humor."
A soft meow answered him.
Lu Mao turned his head.
The black cat from yesterday sat calmly beside him.
Emerald eyes blinked slowly with the quiet, unimpressed wisdom that only cats possessed.
"Don't give me that look," Lu Mao muttered.
He tossed it a scrap of dumpling dough.
"You're no saint either."
The cat sniffed it.
Then deliberately looked away.
Lu Mao snorted.
"Fine. More for me."
He leaned back against a crooked chimney.
The sun climbed higher above the city.
For a brief moment—
Peace returned.
Then something moved on the rooftop opposite him.
A blur of motion.
Graceful.
Precise.
A girl landed silently on the tiles.
Dust swirled faintly around her boots.
She wore worn leather gloves and a silver scarf that fluttered softly in the wind. Her hood cast a shadow across her face, but sharp eyes glimmered beneath it.
Before Lu Mao could say anything—
She tossed something toward him.
It landed at his feet.
His coin pouch.
Lu Mao blinked.
"Wait."
"What?"
"When did you—"
The girl smiled faintly.
"A real thief wouldn't need to ask."
Lu Mao stared at her.
Then slowly looked down at the pouch.
Then back at her.
"Okay," he admitted.
"That was impressive."
Below them, Chen Rong erupted from the fish cart.
"You filthy street scum!"
"Come down here and die properly!"
The girl glanced over the edge of the roof.
Then back at Lu Mao.
"You've made a friend."
"I have a talent for it," Lu Mao said dryly.
She flicked her wrist.
A small jade token appeared between her fingers.
Chen Rong's sect token.
The boy froze below.
"My sect token!"
"How—?!"
Lu Mao burst out laughing so hard he nearly slipped off the roof.
"You're worse than me!"
The girl tilted her head.
"Worse?"
"Or better?"
And then—
She vanished.
Not jumped.
Not ran.
Simply gone.
Only a faint shimmer of qi remained where she had stood.
Lu Mao blinked.
Then looked at the cat.
"You saw that, right?"
"She moves like smoke."
"I've got to learn that."
The cat ignored him and began washing its paw.
Lu Mao sighed.
"Yeah."
"You're right."
"I probably couldn't afford her lessons anyway."
The morning passed slowly after that.
The noise of the market faded into a distant hum.
Lu Mao sat quietly on the rooftop beam, watching the city breathe.
Then—
That strange pulse returned.
Deep within his chest.
Soft.
Steady.
Alive.
It stirred whenever his blood raced.
Whenever chaos danced around him.
Lu Mao pressed his palm lightly against his chest.
He still didn't understand it.
But lately…
It didn't scare him as much.
It almost felt like an old friend waking up.
"Maybe I should stop stealing dumplings," he muttered.
"Before the heavens really do strike me down."
"Before the heavens strike you…"
A familiar voice interrupted.
"…maybe prepare for something else."
Lu Mao turned sharply.
The girl stood on another rooftop nearby.
Hands in her pockets.
Sunlight reflecting in her eyes.
"You move well," she said casually.
"For someone planning to enter the Golden Sparrow Thieves Guild Entrance Trial."
Lu Mao's smirk faded.
"How do you know about that?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Name's Yan Mei."
"And yes."
"I'm taking the trial too."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"So I thought I'd take a look at the competition."
Lu Mao narrowed his eyes slightly.
"The Guild remembers your master," she added lightly.
"Jin Wu."
"The last Phantom Hand of the Sparrow."
Lu Mao stiffened slightly.
The name struck deeper than he expected.
"He trained you," Yan Mei continued calmly.
"Didn't he?"
Lu Mao studied her carefully.
"You knew him?"
"I knew of him."
Her voice softened slightly.
"And I know what he wanted his successor to become."
She stepped a little closer.
"Don't disappoint him, Lu Mao."
"The Trial isn't for thieves."
"It's for survivors."
Lu Mao held her gaze.
"You talk like you've been there."
Yan Mei smiled faintly.
"You'll find out soon enough."
The wind tugged at her silver scarf.
She turned to leave.
But paused.
"Oh."
"And next time you steal from the market…"
Her eyes sparkled faintly.
"…try not to get caught by a fishmonger."
Then she vanished into the maze of rooftops.
Lu Mao stood there for a long moment.
Heart racing.
Golden Sparrow Guild.
Entrance Trial.
He looked down.
The black cat had curled beside him again.
"You heard that, right?"
The cat blinked.
Lu Mao sighed.
"I'm talking to cats now."
"Maybe I really am losing it."
Still—
A grin slowly spread across his face.
Far across the city, a tall golden spire gleamed in the sunlight.
The rumored perch of the Thieves Guild.
"Well then," Lu Mao murmured.
"If they want a thief…"
He flipped a coin through the air and caught it smoothly.
"…I'll give them one."
The cat meowed softly.
Lu Mao winked.
"Exactly."
Far below, Chen Rong finally dragged himself out of the fish cart.
Water streamed from his sleeves.
Fish scales clung stubbornly to his hair.
He glared up at the rooftops with burning fury.
"This is the last time you make a fool of me!"
"Next time…"
"I'm going to get you!"
Lu Mao watched him quietly.
The boy carried himself with sect discipline.
Sixteen perhaps.
Sharp.
Stubborn.
Proud.
A Dawn Lotus disciple through and through.
Chen Rong stomped away angrily.
Vowing revenge beneath his breath.
Lu Mao watched him disappear into the crowd.
Then he slipped a coin into his sleeve and smiled softly.
"Good."
"Come find me."
The boy didn't hear him.
But Lu Mao had a strange feeling their paths would cross again.
Sooner than either of them expected.
The cat twined around his ankle.
Evening shadows stretched across the city.
Lu Mao stepped into the darkness.
Laughter fading behind him.
Leaving only rumors of a boy who stole dumplings—
And laughed while doing it.