Miraculously, our heroes survived the night in the cheaply made paper space. And now they were on their way to the annual Peach Festival.

It was hard for Ritsu to ignore the fact that he and his companions were not at all dressed appropriately for the festival. Bodhi sported a set of clean, but incredibly plain monastic robes. Ritsu wore faded denims with holes in the knees and an old hooded jacket over a plain pullover. Hardly festival garb. And Ham Song? Well, he was still naked, Dear Traveler.

Oh? Did you say something?

What was the spider wearing, you ask? Dear Traveler, Anari has not been present in this story for some time now. Stop making predictions and let me do my job. Next time you have one of those, keep it to yourself.

As I was saying, when Ritsu looked around at the traditional costumes and polished glamour of the spirits attending, he suddenly became very aware of his own lack of wealth.

Apparently spending the night on the floor of a virtual trolley hadn't been enough to get that through his head.

Ritsu noticed that Ham Song was breathing the loudest once the three of them reached the top of Ripe Peach Mountain. The passing spirits gave them a wide berth, whispering behind their decorative fans as they drifted by.

"I always forget that this festival is free admission. They'll let just any old riff raff up here."

Ritsu looked around to see who made the comment, but honestly, with all the glares they were getting, it could have been anyone.

Bodhi must have picked up on it too, because they said, "I used to have finer fabrics and prayer beads and shit. But I pawned it all off for booze ages ago."

Once Ham Song caught his breath, he looked around with bright eyes. Seemingly unaffected by the unwelcoming stares, he said, "Don't you just love festivals? It's the only time you can count on the authorities to take down those ridiculous steel towers and bring back the fresh air and mountainside views!"

Indeed, the natural streets that stretched before them were heavily shaded under willows that had been transformed into wishing trees. Every vendor and gaming booth was wooden and hand-painted in garish hues.

Ritsu gave Ham Song an odd look. "Steel towers?"

Admiring a paper wish that dangled overhead, Bodhi gently clarified, "He means the apartment buildings."

Ritsu didn't fail to notice that Bodhi's features seemed softer now than they did the day before, making them appear undeniably feminine even with a shaved head.

"So what's the plan?" Ham Song prompted. Bodhi pulled their attention away from the wishes and looked to Ritsu.

Ritsu let his eyes wander to the top of Ripe Peach Mountain. "That's where they have the Garden of Immortal Peaches. The high ranking spirits meet there and drink tea on the terrace. Then at dusk, they feast. The only way you can get into the tea party is if you're invited or you buy your way in."

Bodhi grunted, "Last time I checked, that pork bun wrapper was not a VIP ticket."

"Right," said Ritsu, "I was getting to that. We'll have to pay our way in. And that's how we're going to do it." He pointed to some distant wooden structure. Ham Song and Bodhi followed his finger until they realized what he meant.

"A game, lawful monkey?" Ham Song scoffed. "We're going to make enough money to buy our way into the Garden of Immortal Peaches by playing a game?"

Sweeping his arms wide, Ritsu explained, "Not just one game. All the games. With your Luck, Ham Song, we can get the high scores and later on, sell the prizes. Then we can use that money to buy our way into the garden."

Bodhi folded their arms and raised an eyebrow. Ritsu wasn't sure if they were impressed or skeptical. Or both.

Ham Song considered. "While that is a clever way to utilize my Luck, it could backfire on us. These festival games are not meant to be won. People might think we're cheating. And then we'll get thrown off the mountainside for sure."

Ritsu held up a finger. "Not if we split up."

Ham Song and Bodhi exchanged glances. Finally, Bodhi dropped their arms. "Comrades, this might actually work."

Ham Song fought to hold back a squeal. "I think I have just enough Luck saved up to get us through this. Let's continue this conversation over there."

The three of them momentarily ditched the crowded streets and retreated to the privacy among the wishing trees. After Ham Song had handed over some of his Luck to each of them, Sun Ritsu–

Seriously, Dear Traveler? You can't just interrupt me while I'm in the middle of a tale. Can't your silly little question wait until later. It can't?

Fine. I guess I'll pause the story. The things I do for you ungrateful tourists.

What do you want to know?

How does Luck work?

Right! I forgot about your total ignorance on the topic. Fair warning, it would take too long for me to explain everything about Luck to you. So I'll just cover the basics, okay? Luck is . . . Luck is . . . Hold on. I've never really had to explain it before. Let me get my thoughts together.

. . . Luck is everywhere. Kind of like pollen, I suppose. And like pollen it accumulates on just about anything and everything. This, might I add, is the slowest and most inefficient way to acquire it. There are a lot of factors involved that determine how quickly one can naturally absorb Luck. Ham Song, for example, is bewitched in such a way that allows him to naturally collect large quantities of Luck over very short amounts of time compared to the rest of us.

Also, due to Ham Song's true essence, he has more surface area, shall we say, on which the Luck can collect. The more essence a spirit has, the higher their potential for Luck is on average.

Are there other ways to obtain Luck, you ask? Well, of course there are. You can pass it on as a gift, like what Ham Song did just now for Bodhi and Sun Ritsu. Lucky gifts are rare outside of close knit families and clans. Most spirits are pretty stingy, you know.

You can gamble for Luck. You can cheat someone out of their Luck. And you can . . . well, you can take another spirit's Luck by, um . . . hurting them badly enough to send them to the Lake of Ninefold Darkness.

Of course, that last way to get Luck is strictly illegal in all twelve provinces of the Ninth Heaven. Some provinces are better at enforcing the law than others . . . .

Sorry. I didn't mean to digress so much. So, do you get the idea?

Still confused? Hrmph. What else is new, Dear Traveler?

Regardless, I'm going to go back to this story. Our mostly-dumb-but-not-a-complete-moron of a hero split from his group, feeling Luckier than ever. Not long after, he spotted a gaming booth with an ultimate prize.

It was a contest of strength. The high score winner would be rewarded with – you won't believe this – an enchanted quarterstaff.

Is it the real deal, you wonder?

Hmph. You'll just have to wait and see.

It came as a pleasant surprise that the benevolent monkey was able to hatch a reasonable plan in order to acquire a staff. However, Ham Song knew that splitting up and taking on the different gaming booths would not be as simple for him as it would be for his companions.

Sun Ritsu was already long gone, but Bodhi hadn't quite left Ham Song's side. Before they could wander off, Ham Song steadied his nerve and latched onto the hem of their robe.

They glanced down in confusion. "What's the hold up?"

Ham Song hated being put in this position, but there was no way around it. He had to ask the monk for help.

"Listen, Bodhi. I don't think that we should split up."

The monk slid their hand behind the deep, slack collar of their robe and absently scratched their ribcage.

"But that was the plan, pig."

Ham Song oinked and wheezed. "I know that was the plan! It's just . . ."

Bodhi arched an eyebrow at him, letting their arm rest inside the robe like it was a sling.

Reluctantly, the pig confessed, "Unless I'm heavily doused in glamour or flanked by a pack of other hogs, the majority of the spirits around here do not take me seriously." He hung his head. "I would never be allowed to approach a game booth without encountering an unnecessary amount of harassment."

Bodhi looked off at the crowded streets. "I see." Then they sighed and pressed forward. "I suppose you can tag along with me, pig. We can pick booths that are next to each other. Once I set you up, I'll just go next door. So if you run into any trouble, I'll be close by."

Ham Song could barely believe his ears. He trotted up beside them. "Dear monk, I cannot describe my gratitude. I thank you for understanding."

So quick that he almost missed it, the monk winked at him. They walked together through the busy festival, taking in the music, the costumes, and simply appreciating the comfortable beauty of the mountainside morning.

They had nearly arrived at a cluster of gaming stands when they walked by a booth that smelled richly of fermented grains.

Bodhi came to a chilling halt before the panel of fabric that marked the entrance. "Oh. Hello there." They acknowledged the establishment as if it were an old lover.

The pig nudged their ankle. "We have no money, remember?"

"I'll only be a minute, pig. Just going to glance at the menu." Bodhi absently patted Ham Song's face before drifting inside the dark shack.

Ham Song sighed and rested his haunches in the dirt. He wasn't waiting long before he could feel someone watching him from nearby. He sniffed the air before taking a look around. The rich, savory aroma brought him the clarity he needed. Behind him, on the other side of the street, was a barbecue vendor.

Ham Song swallowed, quickly coming to the conclusion that the owner of the stand was checking him out. Feeling weighed down by the target on his back, Ham Song dashed inside of the tiny bar.

"I told you, monk," a fed up horse spirit brayed from the other side of the counter, "we don't do samplers here."

Bodhi spread their arms. "Come on. You can't spare one thimble of liquor to help a simple monk celebrate one of the most sacred and revered days on the calendar?"

Ham Song pressed his snout against Bodhi's ankle. "Monk, please. I think we should go."

The horse brayed uproariously. "And get that fat fleabag out of here!"

Ham Song cowered at the venomous look in Bodhi's eyes when they turned on him. He tried to edge away, but his butt collided with another pair of legs.

"Hey, monk."

Both Ham Song and Bodhi looked up at the newcomer. A skeleton spirit.

"How about in exchange for a drink, I take that sweet little hog off your hands?"

Ham Song whimpered. Why does this always happen to me? Equal to Heaven, aren't I supposed to be Lucky?

Not at all put off by the butcher's macabre essence, Bodhi folded their arms and gently tapped their chin.

"Hmm. The monkey . . . might not like that."

Ham Song squealed, "Don't think so hard about it!"

"Allow me to improve my offer." The skeleton brushed by Ham Song. "With what I am willing to pay, you can purchase an entire barrel of rice wine if you so desired."

All contemplation dissolved from Bodhi's face as they shook hands with the skeleton man.

"Oh, sure. That works for me."

Ham Song was snatched up by the butcher before he could make a break for it. He watched on in horror while his new captor paid Bodhi with a fat purse full of gold.

Bodhi shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, Ham Song, don't look at me like that. You know it's nothing personal." They turned to the bartender. "One barrel of your finest rice wine, please!"