The Mortal Realm, Ruomei soon learned, was a wild place full of extremes. There were remote pine-covered mountains drenched in mist and silent forests of bamboo that swayed in the wind. But the human settlements were devoid of any such tranquility, and instead were a cacophony of sound, smell, and activity more intense than anything she had ever experienced.

Ruomei was especially fascinated by the marketplaces, where so many mortals interacted and went about their daily lives. There were performers, perfumers, artists, fabric-sellers, furniture-makers, cooks, and a never-ending stream of customers. Over time, she picked out a favorite location, and returned frequently to make her observations and learn from the mortals as Lisong had instructed.

On some days, Ruomei came to notice, the baker would be in a good mood, and on others he would yell at his son to hurry faster with the buns. The beggar children scampered through the streets with mischievous intent, and with a bit of luck and skill got away with their schemes. But one of the characters Ruomei had the most fondness for was the grandfather of the fruit-seller, who sat on his chair at the corner of the street and scowled at anyone who passed – unless he thought no one was looking, in which case he would smile at the young infants carried by their mothers or slip treats to his great-granddaughter when she came by for a visit.

Ruomei had visited the fruit-seller's stand several times, both visible and invisible. On days when she visited with Lisong, she usually only had time to attract a few passerby's attentions to the fresh produce with her magic, but on days when she was able to stay a bit longer, she liked to make herself visible and get to know the family better. The fruit-seller's wife referred to Ruomei as their lucky charm, since they seemed to always get more customers on days she came to visit – and Ruomei did everything within her abilities to make sure that was true. After all, her path of cultivation was to keep harmony and do good.

One day Ruomei came for a visit, however, she noticed there was a somber air about the fruit stand, and the wife did not greet her with her usual enthusiasm.

"How are you?" Ruomei asked her. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, our daughter is very sick," the wife confessed, wringing her hands. "There's been an illness going around the town and she's caught whatever it is. I'm so worried for her."

Ruomei's brow furrowed in concern. "Have you taken her to see the doctor?"

The fruit-seller's wife shook her head. "We don't have that kind of money."

"Oh! I see." Ruomei's thoughts were already whirling with ideas for how she could help with her magic. She could transform a few of the peaches into gold ingots, or perhaps even just cause the doctor's horse to stop and refuse to move in front of the fruit stand the next time he visited the marketplace. But a shout pulled her from her deliberation before she could decide on a course of action, and she turned to find the table at the stall had collapsed, spilling the fruit into the street.

The fruit-seller and his wife cried out, rushing forward to reclaim the valuable produce, and salvage whatever didn't bruise. But the band of beggar children descended on the disaster like a swarm of locusts, taking advantage of the chaos to stuff the stray fruits into their pockets. The fruit-seller's grandfather did his best to bat them away with his cane, but would have lost his balance on his stool had not Ruomei caught him in time.

"Please be careful, sir," she said, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his coat.

"Careful – bah! Those vagrants are robbing my family's business!" came the reply. "If my son were still alive, he'd give them a good beating!" The grandfather shook his cane again, and though his chair wobbled at the motion, he kept his balance this time.

Ruomei stepped back and crossed her arms, trying to follow where each little thief ran off to, but they all scattered in different directions.

"Hey!" Ruomei reached out to grab the nearest one by the back of his jacket, but the little boy kicked at her and wriggled out of the sleeves, free again in a flash.

Ruomei dropped the jacket and pushed up her own sleeves. So they wanted a fight, did they?

She stretched out her hand, ready to use magic to trip the boy, and maybe send a pile of baskets to fall on his head for added humiliation. Before she could do so, however, a red spark suddenly shot out from the right side of the street, hitting her wrist with a painful shock.

"Ow!" Ruomei looked around, but couldn't find the source.

"Ruomei? Are you okay?" The fruit-seller's wife had paused in her cleanup of the fruit and was looking at Ruomei with concern.

"I'm fine." Ruomei waved her away. "Don't worry about me." Once the other woman had turned her back, Ruomei extended her hand, ready to try again.

Once again, she was smacked with a red spark, the hit feeling every bit as painful as a pebble from a slingshot. Ruomei gasped and clutched her hand to her chest, rubbing at her sore wrist as she again checked for whoever or whatever was attacking her.

There – a flicker of black fabric around a corner was the only glimpse she had of her attacker before it disappeared.

"Hey! Come back here!" Ruomei shot after the person, ignoring the surprised cries that resounded as she suddenly ran off. If it meant being able to prevent someone from hurting the fruit-seller and his business, she would deal with the misunderstandings and try to clarify everything later.

The figure was fast, darting between stalls and slipping between carts and crates in the street. As Ruomei followed, she noticed that all eyes were turned to her only as she gave pursuit, and no one seemed to take note of her black-hooded quarry unless the person ran into someone or something.

Ruomei used an upturned bucket as a step to launch herself up and over a slow-moving cart, trying to catch a glimpse of the person's features. Was it someone from another realm, making themselves invisible to mortal eyes?

As if sensing Ruomei's suspicions, the cloaked figure suddenly pushed off the side of a wooden post and leapt over one of the market stalls, out of view. Ruomei grumbled under her breath – if she were to pull off a similar feat, the mortals here would surely realize she wasn't human.

Opting for a less-obvious course of action, Ruomei swung around the next corner to double back in the alley behind the stalls – only to just avoid a fist headed straight for her face as she did so.

Understanding mortals wasn't the only thing Lisong had been teaching Ruomei lately. She jumped back, her hands coming up to block the next flurry of punches and kicks from her attacker. The cloaked figure pressed forward tirelessly, and it was only when Ruomei managed to hook a foot around the back of the person's leg that the punches stopped in favor of a backflip out of reach, the hood of the cloak falling back in the process.

In the silence that followed, Ruomei and her adversary stood facing each other, breathing heavily, each waiting for the other to make a move.

"Why don't you just stop already?" Ruomei called out, studying her opponent. It was a woman, the same age as if not younger than herself, with a slight frame and a narrow, angular face. The woman's hair was braided back into a long ponytail, and a pair of red earrings dangled to halfway down her neck, still swinging from the force of her earlier movements.

"Stop what?" the woman snapped. "You're the one who's messing things up!"

"Me?" Ruomei scoffed and put her hands on her hips. "I've only been doing good for this town since I got here!"

"Then we have a problem," the other woman growled.

Ruomei narrowed her eyes. "So it would seem."

They launched back into action, exchanging kicks, punches, and sometimes even bites as they each grappled for victory over the other. Yet as the fight drew on, Ruomei began to realize that they were equally matched. No sooner would she be able to land an elbow in the ribs than her opponent would be able to twist Ruomei's arm – and no sooner would Ruomei kick out to free herself than the other woman would block or dance out of reach.

There could be no upper hand with their skills so equally matched like this, Ruomei thought. Not unless...

She thought back on how she had tricked the soldiers at the gate of the Heavenly Realm into letting their guards down, and Lisong's observations echoed in her memory.

"You aren't opposed to a little deception when desperate. But I'll warn you – there can be no trickery when it comes to cultivation."

But this wasn't cultivation – this was just a fight, plain and simple, and if Ruomei needed to employ some trickery to win it, then she would do so.

When her attacker lunged to strike next, Ruomei fixed her gaze over the woman's shoulder and gasped, as though suddenly spotting something. Confused, her opponent faltered, and turned to look back and see whatever it was that Ruomei was pretending to be so distracted by.

Ruomei took her chance without hesitation, tackling the other woman so that they both fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt until Ruomei emerged victorious.

"Gotcha!" Ruomei crowed, holding the struggling woman tight in a headlock. "Give up!"

"No!"

"Give up!"

"No!"

Ruomei was about to insist again, when two hands suddenly gripped the back of her clothes and hauled her off the other woman. Ruomei twisted and flung out her left arm to counter the new assailant, but the hands blocked her attack immediately and simply – as well as the next attack, and the one after that. At Ruomei's fourth attempt, the hands went on the offensive and reached out to encircle Ruomei's wrists, spinning her around and bringing her arms behind her before finally pushing her up against the back of one of the stalls.

Ruomei struggled. "Let go!"

"No, I don't think I will," came the cool reply. It was a male's voice that delivered the response, and Ruomei couldn't help but feel that she had heard that same voice somewhere else before.

"You're both from the Demon Realm, aren't you?" Ruomei accused, trying to twist her head to see him. "Figures you would be responsible for bringing harm to the people in this town!"

"At the moment, the only one I can see doing any harm is you," the man replied, the last word coming out as a growl. "If I hadn't concealed you from mortal eyes, you'd have more problems to worry about than a few orphaned children."

"They stole from the fruit-seller!" Ruomei protested. "And she—" she broke off, trying to find where the other woman had gone, "was helping them! Their daughter is sick, and they need that money for a doctor!"

"You can't go attacking someone over the cost of a few gold coins," Ruomei's captor said on a sigh. "If I release you, do you promise to not start fighting again?"

"But she –"

"Promise?"

Ruomei sighed, then nodded. "I promise."

His grip tightened. "Swear it."

Ruomei rolled her eyes. "Fine! Fine, I swear I won't start fighting again."

"Good – Chenguang, are you okay?"

The hands released Ruomei, and she immediately spun around, only to be met with the sight of a man in a dark cape helping the other woman to her feet.

The woman named Chenguang tried to brush some of the dust off her shoulders before turning to glare at Ruomei. "I'm fine, thanks Zhulin. I could've handled it."

At the mention of the man's name, Ruomei remembered why he looked so familiar – he had been at the Heavenly Court when Lisong had taken her to be introduced to the Heavenly Lord.

"I know you!" she exclaimed before her mouth could catch up with her brain. "You're the scowl-y one!"

Zhulin, the scowl-y one, scoffed. "And you're the purple tea-cake fairy. You're a bit far from home, aren't you?"

Ruomei crossed her arms. "I'm right where I need to be. Protecting the Mortal Realm from Demons like you."

What little teasing humor that had been in Zhulin's eyes vanished. "Now who's scowling?" he challenged, tilting his head in a silent bid for her to dispute the charge. Instead, Ruomei's glower only deepened.

"So you don't deny it?" Ruomei said. "That you two have been causing unrest and disturbing the peace in this town?"

"Well, mostly him," Chenguang answered blithely, with a nod of her head in Zhulin's direction. "I was just trying to stop you from undoing all his hard work."

"Ooh," Ruomei stepped forward, ready to fight again, but Zhulin held up a hand. "Contrary to what you might think, Tea-Cake Fairy, we are not here with the sole purpose of bringing misery and sorrow to the entire realm. But our visits do serve a purpose, just as yours do, and so I ask that you don't attack either one of us the next time we meet."

He paused, glancing between Chenguang and Ruomei as he noticed the unblinking stare between them. "Or if you must," he continued with a sigh, "you make sure you are not in danger of being discovered by any mortals. They must not have proof of our existence, or it will ruin their ability to have faith."

"Fine," Ruomei answered shortly. "Though I do hope to never have the pleasure of seeing you again."

"The sentiment is mutual," Chenguang sneered back. "Our work would be much easier without you here getting in the way."

"Well if your work requires you to keep coming back here, I hate to tell you the bad news," Ruomei snapped. "I'm cultivating to become an Immortal, and I'm going to be visiting here a lot on my journey. So maybe you should find somewhere else to go."

"More like we're stuck here now," Chenguang said on a groan to Zhulin, but he shook his head and began ushering her away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ruomei called after them. "Hey!"

Her casual address was met with a disapproving look from Zhulin. "I'm sure we'll met again, Tea-Cake Fairy," he said. "Though I do hope that next time you will be more understanding, and our meeting will be on more pleasant circumstances."

With that, he and Chenguang disappeared in a burst of blue flame – to the Demon Realm, Ruomei presumed, and she was left fuming at their departure.

She wouldn't let them win! She couldn't!

Ruomei strode out of the marketplace and launched into the sky from the nearest meadow, heading back towards the Heavenly Realm. She would do whatever it took to keep the fruit-seller and his family safe, even if it meant cheating.

Surely a fight with Demons wouldn't count in her cultivation to becoming an Immortal, and she could get away with a little trickery?