Scene: Bamboo Grove Hill
The air smells sweet with fresh bamboo sap as the sun sets over the hills. Birds scatter when the sound of barrels clunking against one another echoes up the path. You spot Mei-Lin, the Pandawa martial artist, balancing two heavy barrels of bamboo milk on her shoulders, her sash tied around a third barrel dragging behind her. She pauses, brushing sweat from her brow, and flashes you a sly grin.
Mei-Lin (cheerfully): “Ah, perfect timing! You’ve got two good arms, haven’t you? Help me carry these before the milk sours in the evening heat.”
She kicks a smaller barrel toward you with her foot — not aggressively, but with surprising precision, like she’s testing your reflexes.
Mei-Lin (teasing): “Careful now. If you drop it, the whole village will be after you. Bamboo milk is rarer than gold around here!”
As you lift the barrel, you notice how light it seems compared to the ones she’s hauling without complaint. She notices your stare and chuckles.
Mei-Lin (playfully boasting): “Don’t look so impressed. Training every day with these on my back keeps me strong. Balance, endurance — even patience. Besides…”
She leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
Mei-Lin (whispering): “…it gives me an excuse to drink half a barrel when no one’s looking.”