The snow had stopped falling by morning, and by the time Ling woke up the streets had been cleared to allow for the safe passage of satomobiles and parade-goers.

She woke with a smile on her face, the events of last night filling her stomach with a pleasant warmth; she lingered in bed for a while, enjoying the comfort of her blankets and savouring the after-date glow. All too soon, Mei-zhen's gentle knock sounded on her door. With a groan, she extricated herself from feathery, toasty goodness and exposed her skin to the nip of the early winter morning.

Shuffling to the kitchen in her pajamas, Ling scarfed down some barbeque pork siopao. Her sister was already washing up her breakfast dishes.

"Not going to the parade, jiejie?" Ling asked in surprise. Her sister shook her head, explaining that the patient from the night before was still in critical condition and she was going in to take over for the clinic director so he could get some sleep. Shi'ren chimed in that she was declining to go to the parade as well, and would be visiting the local temple instead. That part came as no surprise; mother hadn't gone to a parade since father died.

After breakfast, she took a quick bath, using her sister's amber-and-vanilla scented wash. It was a sweet, almost burnt sugar or cookie-like scent, and one of Ling's favourites; she just rarely used it, as smelling like a walking sweets factory during a stakeout wasn't exactly the best way to go unnoticed.

By the time the house clock dinged eight o'clock, Ling had finished drying her hair, tying everything but her ever-present short strand cowlicks back into their customary ponytail. Instead of a dress, she opted for light grey woolen pantsuit. The waistline of the slacks came up to her natural waist, a few finger widths above her hips, cinched together with a thin black leather belt with a brass buckle. She tucked her muted red button-up blouse into her pants, then added a matte gold tie to the ensemble. Next, she donned a woolen waistcoat that matched her slacks, then completed the look with a dark grey woolen blazer. After a moment's hesitation, she took the blazer off again and slipped on her hidden knife mechanisms over her sleeved arms, then put the blazer back on.

She added her trench coat on top of the whole thing and jammed a matching woolen cloche hat on her head before setting off to meet Jia at the Square.

—

The Square was packed. Ling stood casually at the corner, her hands jammed into the pockets of her khaki trench coat. The tip of her nose felt cold, and she regretted not taking her leather gloves with her.

The big city Clock chimed nine, and Ling looked nervously around for Jia's familiar, broad-shouldered form and short hair. By ten minutes after the hour, music began playing as the parade musicians began warming up. By twenty minutes past the hour, the freckled woman was starting to get nervous. Her unusually pale grey-blue eyes scanned the crowds anxiously, looking for a glimpse of her date. The crowds began to get thicker, and Ling had to jostle a few people in order to make sure that she and Jia had some space.

A passing vendor was selling taho, and she bought a glass, tipping him a few extra yuans for the stress of working such a busy event. The heat from the sweet drink warmed her body, but she couldn't shake the chill that crept up at the thought she might have been stood up.

Finally, at thirty minutes past the hour, Ling spotted a familiar spiked top heading her direction. Jia was dressed in a stunning, tight-fitting red cheongsam, and the freckled woman felt her mouth slip open. She was staring, she knew, but she was hardly the only one doing so. Blinking away the buzzing feeling, she raised her free arm and waved at Jia.

"Over here!" she called, gesturing next to her, being careful not to spill her drink. When Jia joined her, Ling flashed her signature gap-toothed grin. "Glad you could make it," she said casually, but the relief in her voice was audible.

She was getting looks. As she rushed toward the corner—as much as she could rush in a tight-fitting dress—Jia could feel people around her looking at her. This was probably because, as she had very quickly realized upon stepping out of the house—it was unusual to see someone wearing a thin dress with no coat in the middle of winter. She hadn't been out that long, and was already deeply regretting not grabbing her coat in her mad dash out the door. It was cold, even this early in the morning, and as the day wore on it was only going to get colder. She might look good, but she was paying for it.

Finally, she reached the designated meeting place, and looked around wildly for any sign of Ling. But the square was full of shoulder-to-shoulder people, and there was no way for her to distinguish any of the faces she saw. Then, in a small gap in the crowd, she saw a raised arm. Then came a voice that confirmed it. Jia ran over, not so gently nudging other people out of her way.

Ling looked good, and was dressed much more practically than she was. Jia envied her date's good sense. Ling grinned at her, but when she spoke, Jia could hear tension in her tone. She offered a small smile she hoped was apologetic. "I'm sorry," she said, a bit out of breath. "I know I'm late—really late. I overslept, and got here as fast as I could, but traffic, you know…" Jia trailed off, stewing in embarrassment. As she waited for Ling to pass judgment, a breeze blew through the square, sending chills up and down her body. She felt goose bumps raise on her arms, and she rubbed them vigorously with her hands in a failed attempt to generate lasting warmth. The day was not starting off well.

Ling shook her head. "It's fine." Her grin was genuine and wide. "Yeah, I was a little worried, but you're here now and that's what matters."

Then Jia started shivering. "Oh, shoot, here, hold this." She thrust her drink into Jia's hands, then slipped off her khaki trench coat and held it out. Her coat used to belong to her (much larger) father, and while nothing Ling owned would have fit Jia — not in a million years — the coat likely would. "Please, take it," she implored. "I won't take no for an answer on this; my blazer's wool, as are my pants. I'm plenty warm."

Silently, she thanked her self from an hour and a half before for putting her knife mechanisms under her blazer instead of under her trench coat.

"Do you want some taho?" she asked, once she had taken her drink back. "It's sweet, it's warm, and it's filling." The freckled woman grinned slyly. "I assume if you were running late you haven't eaten, either."

Ling didn't look too mad, and as she spoke, she didn't sound mad either. Jia still felt bad for being late, but it was reassuring to see that Ling didn't seem to mind. Besides, what was done was done. As Ling said, she was here now. Beating herself up about oversleeping would do no good. Still, she made a mental note to set an alarm for future dates.

Jia's eyebrows rose as Ling thrust her drink at her. Then her brow furrowed in understanding as Ling held out her trench coat. "You sure?" she said, hesitantly reaching out a hand. "Don't want you making yourself cold just because I was stupid and forgot to grab a coat before going out in this weather." But Ling insisted, and the lure of the coat was too great to ignore. So Jia took the coat and shrugged it on, smiling with obvious relief as the shivering subsided. "That's much better," she said as she handed Ling's drink back. "Thanks."

Now that she was here and wasn't at risk of freezing to death, Jia could actually look around and appreciate the spectacle unfolding around them. The sheer number of people around them was awe-inspiring in itself, but also impressive were the decorations. Every home and shop on the parade had something on display, from simple lanterns to ornate rooster statues, some even larger than Jia herself. It all sent a thrill through her.

Ling asked if she wanted some taho, and right on cue Jia's stomach growled. "Right, yeah, I should probably eat something," she mumbled, again acutely aware of how ill-prepared she was for this venture. "Taho sounds great." She glanced around for a vendor, but didn't see one in the crowds of people nearest them, and didn't fancy the idea of plunging into the mass of humanity just for a drink. She looked back at Ling. "Don't s'pose you're willing to share until a vendor shows up? I don't have any strange diseases." She scratched her temple. "Least, I don't think I do."

Her grin grew wider. "Help yourself," she said, passing the drink over. The taho vendor would be back with his bins, she was sure. But if not, there were plenty of wandering food merchants along the parade route and one was bound to stop by soon.

The parade start time was nearing, and the sidewalk was starting to fill up. Luckily, Ling's punctuality allowed them a spot right up front, along the curb. "You know, I've heard that there's a new carpentry shop over in the Market Square that's selling little folding stools." She gestured in a cross shape with her hands, wiggling them as if they were swivelling along a fixed point — flat to cross, flat to cross. "The top bit has a little canvas stretched over it for a seat. We should have gotten a few of those to bring along."

Suddenly she pointed. A woman balancing very large, cylindrical, stacking metal containers on her head was across the street. "Five yuans those are pork buns," Ling said, her mouth watering. Despite having breakfast, she was more than ready to eat more of her favourite on-the-go food. "When she comes 'round this way, I'll get us a few."

The clock chimed loudly — ten metallic peals to indicate the top of the hour. As soon as the last echo faded, the parade band started up. Ling let out a loud cheer along with everyone else as acrobats began their journey down the street. She was so glad she got a spot at the start of the parade route instead of further down; the performers were fresh, their movements were crisper, and they could leave before anyone else and move on to... other activities...

"Look, look!" she said excitedly, pointing with one hand and hooking her other arm around Jia's, "the acolytes brought out the air bison!"

The gigantic hairy beasts rose lazily in the air, floating with ease and turning loops. There were a few calves along with the adults, and they weren't as disciplined as their elders. One calf flew down toward the crowd playfully, swooping just above their heads. Ling let out a shriek of laughter as she felt one of its six legs brush against her cowlicks.

"Holy sh-—" her words were drowned out by the passing of the first band, the giant animal skin drums and massive symbols crashing and booming, accented by the light ching, ching noise of bells and filling the air with an upbeat tempo.

Jia gratefully accepted the drink with muttered thanks, and immediately felt relief as its warmth seeped into her cold hands. She drank some of the taho, and struggled to keep from audibly gasping aloud. It was warm and sweet, like caramel, and she loved it. A smile spread on her face. "This stuff is amazing," she said, staring down at the taho with wonder. "How have I never had it before? You've gotta introduce me to more food."

Jia sipped the taho, taking immense pleasure from the warm sensation of the beverage settling in her stomach to combat the cold weather. She was distracted from that by Ling's strange pantomiming explanation of folding stools. Watching Ling bring the concept to life with wiggly hand motions was great, and Jia chuckled. "I don't mind this; I usually spend most of my day standing. Really, I don't have to hold any heavy boxes right now, so this a pretty big improvement on my day-to-day."
All of a sudden, Ling had stopped pantomiming, and pointed with needle-sharp focus. Jia followed the line of Ling's arm to see the woman she pointed out. At Ling's mention of the possibility of pork buns, her stomach growled again, louder this time. "That is a great idea," she said, nodding. "This taho is great, but not really a good substitute for real food." She glanced at the ever-growing crowd around them. Across the street, the bun seller appeared quite popular. "Hope she still has some left by the time she gets to us. You're not the only one with that idea."

Then the clock was chiming, and it was time for the parade to begin. All thoughts of pork buns were pushed aside as the first performers emerged with vibrancy and energy that Jia had to marvel at. There were some days where after work it was all she could do to drag herself home, change, and go to sleep. And here these performers were, at the very start of a journey that would take them through nearly the whole city, and ready to at least pretend to be having fun the entire time. It was truly impressive.

Ling's arm wrapped around hers, and Jia took a moment to enjoy the feeling before looking where Ling pointed. The air bison were a sight to behold. For big, lumbering beasts, they sure could move beautifully through the air. "Always wondered what it must be like to ride one of those," Jia remarked as she watched the bison fly. "Gotta be unforgettable."

Jia burst out laughing as the bison calf managed to brush Ling's hair. "So, if the kiss from the Golden Dragon means you'll have good fortune in the New Year, what do you think a touch from an air bison foot means?" She grinned at Ling. "The Air Nomads were all about peace and meditation and all that, yeah? Maybe you're supposed to get in touch with your spiritual energy or something." She shrugged.

She would have said more, but all other sounds were then drowned out by the passing of the first band. They were loud, but their music was good, so Jia didn't mind. The band was flanked by flag-twirlers, each holding the flag of the United Republic. Jia's head tilted up, then, then up again as she watched the flags fly high in the air and then drop back into the hands of their twirlers, who acted with no hint of hesitation or nerves.

As the band passed, their music lingering in the air behind them, a new group of performers came onto the street. This was a group of Waterbenders who bent their element as they walked, sending water around and over themselves, working together to form complex geometric shapes in the air as streams of water flew past each other. Jia was captivated, her mouth hanging open. "Whoa," she breathed. "I was born with the wrong ability. Earthbending's great, but it can't do anything like that…least, not when I use it."

Ling was equally mesmerised. "Mei-zhen doesn't do anything like that either," she said, raising her voice to be heard above the cheering crowd. "Most of her stuff is blobby bits, healing and all."

Next came the firebenders, demonstrating their skill with fierceness; some were dressed in traditional Fire Nation garb while others dressed more modernly, but they were all kicking and twirling as fire erupted in the air around them. It was almost like watching a fabled dragon fly through the air as the firebenders performed, dipping and rising like waves.

"Now see," Ling told Jia, "that's what I'd want. No need for carrying around a water skin, no need to be outside... portable firepower wherever you go." She looked at Jia sidelong and nudged her in the side gently with her elbow. "Eh? EH?" She cackled at her own terrible pun and craned her neck to see past them, eager to see what the Earthbenders had come up with.

Instead, it was a group of plainly dressed people in brown robes. The banner they carried ahead of them named their troop, and in small, fine print under it read Sponsored by the Temple of Koh. There was a slight ripple of discomfort through the crowd until, suddenly, the lead figure flung the robe off to revealed brightly coloured clothes and from seemingly out of nowhere beautiful birds were released into the air.

After a heartbeat's silence, a cheer went up accompanied by thunderous applause. The other robed figures also discarded their robes and began performing sleight of hand tricks and illusions. A lady Ling recognised as one of the part-time waitresses at the Golden Fan came up to her and procured a bouquet of fake flowers from thin air. Ling laughed, accepting the gift. She knew exactly how that happened.

Turning to Jia, she split the flowers into two bunches and offered her one. "That was unexpected."

"Blobby bits are good too," Jia said cheerfully with a nod. "Especially the healing kind. Been in enough fights to know the value of a skilled healer."

The firebenders' performance was as beautiful as what the waterbenders had done, but with much more action. Much like the element they bent, the performers moved with a sort of ferocious energy that was amazing to watch. And as an added bonus, whenever one of the flames passed close by, Jia was momentarily bathed in heat and relieved from the chill of the day. Ling's coat had done wonders for her temperature, but she appreciated the extra help, fleeting though it was.

It took Jia a second to recognize Ling's pun for what it was; the nudge helped. When she got it, her laughter was sudden and loud. "Ha! That's a good one!" she said. "You should be a comedian. I'm sure the drunks at the Fan are pretty easy to get laughs out of."

The firebenders moved past them, and as she looked to see who was next, Jia frowned. The next group looked boring by comparison, dressed in drab clothing and just holding a sign. She squinted to read what the sign read. "The Temple of Koh? What, are they making a statement or something?" She was familiar with the organization, and with its creepy monks and the faceless masks they wore in reference to their patron, but had made a point of avoiding them. She had no quarrel with the servants of the Face-Stealer, but wasn't rushing to help out at their soup kitchens either. They were creepy, and she gave them a wide berth.

Then, suddenly, the street was filled with color…and also birds, for some reason. Jia watched the display of tricks and illusions, but couldn't make head or tail of them. When Ling offered her flowers, she took them with just a slight frown. "It definitely was," she agreed, shaking her head a bit as though to clear it. "I didn't expect Koh's worshippers to be so…fun. Guess they're still people under those masks, just like the rest of us."

The Temple's delegation continued to perform tricks as they passed, and though Jia enjoyed the display, she felt more confusion than joy. Luckily, the next act was the one to which she'd been looking forward the most. The earthbenders arrived, a collection of performers dressed in traditional green and brown. They stood in lines and moved in time, stomping in unison. When their feet hit the ground, pillars of earth rose and fell, shaking the ground. Jia stared, eyes wide. "This is the best," she breathed. "Ever since I moved to the city, I've wanted to participate in something like this. But this is way too precise; I'd probably just trip over my big feet."

Ling shrugged at Jia's comments about the Monks. Her mother, being Galgori, didn't have much in the way of negative comments about the enigmatic priests; they had never done anything overtly dangerous that her mother knew, and simply passed down the word of the Six to all the villages, and cared for Galgori villages when no bender village would. As far as Ling was concerned, while she knew vaguely about the history of animosity between Galgori and the bending-capable, a lot of the distrust was based on ridiculous propaganda and prejudice. After all, if the Monks were truly so heinous, why had they never paid her family a visit? Or, for that matter, a visit to any of the other residents of the city of mixed Galgori and not-Galgori descent?

"Those probably weren't Monks themselves," is what she did say, her detective skills kicking in. "The group was sponsored by the Temple, which is pretty specific, albeit easily missed wording. The Temple reaches out to all nonbenders who are struggling, so perhaps this was a troupe that couldn't get funds for lack of benders in their act." She gestured to them, further down the street. Even without their robes, they were conspicuously not accompanied by pillars of earth, columns of fire, or streams of water.

The earthbender display that followed was impressive. The ground shook, and Ling stumbled a little, laughing. At the back of the earthbender group was a small comedy routine. A half dozen benders kept stomping in time with the others, not earthbending at all, and letting out an impressive yell. A discreet, plainly dressed earthbender behind them would then earthbend the tiniest piece of earth, floating it slowly past the others. Ling laughed harder, as did the others around her.

She patted Jia's arm at the self-deprecating comment. "I think your feet are lovely," she said with a grin. "And anyway, it's better for me that you don't know how to do anything that impressive. How can I be the cool and suave one when my date could launch me a hundred feet in the air with a kick of her foot?"

After the earthbenders was another band, this time full of young people from one of the local schools. They played impressively well, as good as their adult counterparts. She clapped enthusiastically as they passed, flashing a thumbs up at the nearest bunch, knowing that this was probably going to be the highlight of their school careers.

There were many more beautiful displays of talent and skill. The steamed bun seller DID come around again after a while, her metal baskets restocked. Ling bought a half dozen barbequed pork ones for herself and paid for Jia's order as well, munching on one immediately as the rest of the parade went by.

Finally, at around noon, the grand finale: brightly coloured red dragons burst out from seemingly nowhere, their many feet coordinated in time with the music of the traditional band that preceded them. Ling could see the silk-pantsed legs from the dragon-bearers and wondered how they could stand the cold in such flimsy attire. A dozen beautiful, intricately designed dragons danced and shook past the crowd, rising and slinking along as ferociously and gracefully as one would expect.

And then — there it was: the Golden Dragon.

The Golden Dragon was twice as long as the regular red dragons, needing twice as many operators. It's head was bigger, and Ling could see two pairs of legs sticking out from under the head. And yet, despite its bulk, it seemed to move with even more fluidity than the others.

It shook its head and pranced around; the first cheer went up when the dragon bowed before a young girl, no more than five or six years old, and tapped her forehead in a 'kiss'. The little girl cried, probably shocked at the size of her dragon, but smiled as the adult woman with her picked her up and murmured things Ling could only assume was reassurances of the dragon's intention.

The dragons' dances continued, and soon, the Golden Dragon was dancing in front of them. Ling glanced over and smiled at the enjoyment on Jia's face before turning —- and coming face to face with a giant golden head.

She yelped in surprised and took an involuntary step back. The dragon, however, shook its massive head as if it were laughing at her. Ling grinned and stuck her tongue out. Then it turned to Jia and raised its head to bop its nose on her forehead before spinning away to join its brethren.

"Hey!" Ling said, after a few moments, draping an arm around the other woman's shoulders. "How about that!"

Jia peered at the retreating performers as Ling commented on their affiliations, or lack thereof. "Hm, guess you're right," she replied. "Good of the temple to sponsor them, then." She stared after the performers, still doing tricks to the great amusement of their audience. Perhaps she was too judgmental of the Face-Stealer and its followers. Imagery of Koh had always freaked her out; she had her doubts about the sort of people who would worship a giant centipede with a constantly changing face. The Water Tribes worshipped fish spirits—that made sense to her. But hey, if a thousand faces and way too many legs were what did it for the worshippers of Koh, that was their business. She wasn't going to run to the Temple to offer her services—she was pretty sure they wouldn't want her anyway, given her bending ability—but she could at least reevaluate her preconceived notions.

She grinned gratefully as Ling complimented her feet. "Thanks." She laughed when Ling mentioned being cool. "Given the story you told last night about the gambler you humiliated at the Fan, I don't think you need to worry about being cool or suave. You've got a pretty good handle on that. As for launching you into the air…" she flexed her arms. "I don't know if I could manage a hundred feet with these, but with enough work I might get close, bending or no."

The band that followed the Earthbenders was full of adorable kids, and Jia applauded along with Ling. "They're great," she commented. "My mom tried to get me to learn to play the tsungi horn when I was a kid." She shook her head. "Never quite got the hang of it. I sucked at reading music, so I mostly just wandered around playing loud notes just to enjoy the noise." She chuckled. "My mom took the horn away pretty quickly."

The return of the bun seller was a gift, and Jia eagerly tore into the eight buns she ordered, half pork, half taro. "Thanks for paying for these," she said through a mouthful of pork. "I owe you." The buns were delicious, and gave her the energy to fully appreciate the rest of the parade. The red dragons were beautiful. They moved with a fluidity that rivaled that of the best Waterbenders, managing to evoke both grace and strength. Jia whistled low in appreciation. "How do they do it?" she wondered aloud. "Do they call directions out to each other, or do they just know from practice where to move in time with each other?" The dragons swooped around each other in precise movements, drawing close but never bumping into each other.

But then, as impressive as the red dragons were, they were eclipsed by their golden cousin. The Golden Dragon was massive, but still moved as though it were a living creature, not a prop operated by a small army of skilled performers. Jia cheered as the dragon bestowed its kiss on a small girl ahead of them in the crowd. "Lucky kid," she said, smiling widely. "Though I can't say I blame her for crying at first. That dragon would be pretty scary to me if I were that small."

Jia was riveted as the Golden Dragon grew closer. This close, she could see the intricate detail in its scales; as the dragon moved, the scales caught what little sunlight managed to poke through the clouds overhead, and shimmered and shone. It was mesmerizing, and it was only Ling's sudden yelp that shook Jia out of her daze. "Looks like you made a friend," she laughed. "You two look like—"

She quieted instantly as the dragon's nose touched her forehead. As the dragon spun away, she raised a hand to her forehead, still feeling the slight pressure where the nose had been. She could hear the crowd cheering around her, and jumped slightly as Ling's arm settled around her shoulder. "Guess I'm in for a good year," she said, beaming. She turned to Ling, and quickly leaned in to plant a smooch on Ling's nose. "I'm no dragon, and it's not your forehead, but maybe I can share my good fortune with you anyway."

Ling couldn't help but flush at Jia's words, which she could feel deepen when the woman kissed her nose. She laughed, feeling a little awkward and gangly and not at all the smooth operator she normally was.

"I'd like that," she said with a grin, feeling the heat creep to her neck. Jia's eyes were a pretty stunning green. Briefly, Ling wondered what Jia would look like dressed in jade-coloured fabric. It was a pleasant thought, and Ling felt her breath hitch just a little bit.

As the Golden Dragon and its entourage passed, the crowd around them began packing up their things and leaving the parade route. The clanging sound of trash bins being dragged out brought Ling back to earth, and she withdrew another steamed bun from her bag, munching it thoughtfully, glad for an excuse to look away and regain her composure.

"Where to next?" she asked Jia when she felt reasonably certain she could look at the other woman without turning beet red. "We could go to the market place and see what sorts of things they're peddling this year."

Ling also had pulled some strings to get a reservation at Kwong's, but wasn't sure when it would be an appropriate time to mention it. Eight o'clock was still a ways away. The place had a dress code, but the way she was dressed — and the way Jia was dressed — they shouldn't have a problem with being turned away at the door.

Jia smirked a bit as she saw Ling redden at the kiss. It was nice, knowing she had the power to make Ling blush. From their first meeting and last night, Ling presented herself as a suave, confident person, and Jia had not expected her to be the type to go weak in the knees what confronted with romance. She was very much enjoying the beginning of whatever this was that they had going on.

Gradually, the parade crowd around them dispersed, being replaced by a veritable army of Republic City employees with brooms and trash cans. The street was covered in trash, but Jia knew that by the evening it would all be gone. She was always impressed by how quickly things could be returned to normal.

Jia took a moment to think as Ling asked where they should go next, scratching her arm through Ling's coat. "The market's a good idea," she replied with a nod. "Might need you to keep hold of my wallet, though; I'm not all that great at keeping myself from impulse buying whatever catches my eye."

Ling laughed and hooked her arm in Jia's. "I'll let you keep it, for now," she teased. "If you start going overboard I think you'll suddenly find it missing." Of course, she would never really steal Jia's wallet. That would make her a cad. But there was no harm, she felt, in using her skills to prevent the lovely lady on her arm from bankrupting herself on the first day of the new year.

They walked to the market place, as the streets were far too crowded with people to make getting a cab a wise decision. Vendors were everywhere; in addition to the usual stalls that normally set up in the area, there were also speciality shops selling nothing but new year themed knick knacks. One stall was a (rather odorous) apothecary shop, bragging of fertility and virility wonder herbs. Ling carefully steered Jia in the other direction; from what her sister had told her, those wonder herbs always had some unsightly appendage of some animal hidden away in the packet. Not exactly romantic-first-proper-date material.

Further along the road were some stalls with party games: catch a goldfish, ring toss, darts... they were all games you'd likely see at a carnival, and Ling knew that each and every one of them was rigged. She grinned, and surreptitiously directed Jia's attention to the ring toss. "You gotta be careful with these games," she said, still smiling. "The goal is to get the ring all the way around the bottom of the base to win a prize, yeah?" She shook her head good-naturedly. "The base is wider than the inside of the ring. There may be a few appropriately-sized rings in the batch, just enough to make it so that someone wins every so often and the customers keep lining up."

As if to prove her point, an excited cheer went up from the booth. A little girl, wide-eyed, had landed a ring around the base of a cone that held up a shiny brass rooster pin, its comb and eyes decorated with vibrantly coloured glass. She grinned wider. "Looks like these guys are giving the good rings out to the kids. That's always nice to see."

She caught the eye of one of the booth runners, but he took one look at her and his eyes narrowed. Ling laughed, and tugged Jia in another direction. "We won't get any lucky breaks at that booth," she said with amusement. "The guy over there has figured me out."

It was just as well for the booth, in all honesty. Ling always managed to ... find ... an appropriately sized ring at these things.

Ling withdrew another (now lukewarm) steamed bun from the bag; it was a little drippy and sticky, as the mix of hot food and cold air had formed beads of condensation in the bag. She paid it no mind and gestured with it before taking a bite.

"How about a game of darts?" she asked Jia. "Pop enough balloons and you can win a prize!"

"Sounds good," Jia laughed. "So long as you remember to give it back at some point. I like you a lot, but robbing me wouldn't be the best way to win my heart."

They walked arm-in-arm to the market, and instantly Jia was overwhelmed by the large number of vendors hawking their wares. The streets were mobbed with other shoppers, and the noise of their conversations mingled with the shouts of the vendors calling passersby over to their stalls. Several stalls caught her attention—she made Ling stop by a vendor selling a selection of local pottery. "My mom makes pottery," she explained. "I used to come to the city with my dad to sell it. They're getting up there in years now, though, so he doesn't sell it himself anymore. Instead, he offers it to vendors like this one and takes a percentage of their sales. I can never resist stopping by stalls like this to see if any of mom's pieces are selling." Unfortunately, she didn't see any pieces bearing her mother's distinct style. "Oh well," she shrugged. "Wouldn't want to walk around all day carrying a pot anyway."

They kept moving, and soon were past the vendors and into the more carnival-like section of the market. She raised an eyebrow as Ling offered a word of caution about the games. When Ling continued, Jia scowled. "These games are rigged?" she growled. "That's terrible! I've always just thought I was bad at them. I mean, that's probably still true, but…why would you do something so horrible?" she moaned. She glared at the proprietor of the ring toss.

Her temper was soothed—only slightly—by the sight of a little girl beating the dishonest travesty that Ling had revealed the game to be. "Well that's just common decency," she grumbled as Ling mentioned that the girl had likely been helped in her victory. The revelation of the games' unfairness still stung a bit, and she knew she'd never be able to look at carnivals the same way again.

Fortunately, Ling turned them away from the ring toss. Jia looked over at Ling as she suggested a game of darts, a frown still tugging at her lips. "I'm guessing that's rigged too," she replied. She sighed. "Fine, I'll give it a try. If it gets too annoying, I can just bend some rocks to pop the balloons. If they're going to cheat, they can't get mad if I do too." She trudged over to the dart booth, where she paid a couple yuans for ten darts, facing a wall of roughly thirty or so partially inflated balloons. "This is a bad idea," remarked to Ling as she took the first dart in hand. "Hand-eye coordination has never been my area of expertise."

She took a deep breath and let fly with the first dart. It sailed through the air, flying true toward a balloon…then missed its target, hitting the wood behind with an insulting "thunk." Jia gritted her teeth, but said nothing, just lifted a second dart and tried again. Another failure. "This is stupid," she muttered, but tried again. Eight more darts later, she had exhausted her tries, and had only managed to hit two balloons. She was sure that a one-in-five success rate was no cause for celebration, but the stall proprietor, perhaps taking pity on her, still gave her a prize—a small bracelet, gold in color, with an image of a rooster. Jia frowned down at the trinket before slipping it into the pocket of Ling's coat. She turned back to Ling, looking a bit despondent. "Told you it was a bad idea."

Ling grinned indulgently at Jia's frustration, handing the vendor a few more yuans before slipping behind Jia, one hand on her waist and the other guiding her dart-throwing hand. Jia was a little taller than her, but Ling could just about whisper in her ear.

"The secret to the dart booth is to aim lower down. The wind catches the balloons higher up which messes with your aim since the targets are always moving."

The first dart hit its mark. The vendor cheerfully called out a hit, a smile on his face while his eyes glared at her; she shot him a look that read Come on man, I'm on a date. After a few more seconds glaring, he turned his head back to the balloons.

The next dart hit its mark too, and another, and another. Intentionally, Ling missed the next two, then hit the remaining four. The vendor reached up and pulled down a medium-sized stuffed animal in the shape of a comical rooster and handed it to Jia.

Ling grinned, and using an old sleight of hand trick, slipped a five-yuan note into the vendor's hand as she turned to face her date. "See? Just a little more practice and you'll knock my name off the high-scores list at the 'Fan."

Jia's scowl deepened when Ling grinned at her. "We can't all be great at rigged games," she grumbled. She calmed, though, when she felt Ling's hand settle on her waist. She smiled at that. "Now this is nice. If being bad at games means I get lessons like this, I'll keep it up."

She felt butterflies flutter in her stomach as Ling whispered in her ear. She relaxed her arm, letting Ling guide her hand to throw the first dart. Her smile grew. "Is there any game you don't know how to win?"

Jia's surrendered control of her dart-throwing hand completely as Ling kept up her streak. She chuckled a bit as Ling missed a couple. "That was nice of you," she muttered out of the side of her mouth. "It would be a bit of a downer to get banned from a game booth on New Years."

Ling threw the last dart with Jia's arm, ending her crusade with only two misses. The vendor looked a bit disgruntled, but handed Jia a silly stuffed animal in the shape of a rooster. It was pretty funny-looking, but for some reason she liked it. Jia hugged it to her chest as she turned to Ling. "Thanks," she said, giving Ling a quick peck on the cheek. "You know how to cheer me up."

Stepping away from the dart booth, she looked around to see what else was around. "So, what's next?" she asked. She smiled in sympathy with a man she saw seated at a rickety-looking dunk tank. Every time a passerby paid to take a shot at him, he winced. "I'd tell you to give that a try, but that man doesn't deserve such torture."

She grinned widely and hooked her arm with Jia's again as they left the dart-throwing area. "I love to see a pretty girl smile," she said brightly.

Jia pointed out the dunk-tank with a grimace. Unfortunately (or, perhaps fortunately for the poor drenched man) throwing a ball was very much unlike throwing a knife and while her aim wasn't terrible, she was no genius at the task. "I'm sure he's a volunteer," she murmured, but agreed. It was still nippy even in her woolen suit and she couldn't imagine being nearly entirely unclothed and soaked in freezing water. She noticed a few people standing near the tank with the tell-tale white caps of healers and nurses. She surreptitiously pointed to them.

"Looks like they have his health well in hand," she reassured Jia.

She glanced around for what to do next. "How about over in the presentation area? There's always some new-fangled invention people want to show off at these things."

In the presentation area, they saw many interesting contraptions: a metal box, powered by electricity, that toasted your bread with no need for a stove; a sink with whirring blades at the bottom of the pipes ("Never have a clogged drain again!" cried the presenter); a thing that looked similar to a radio but had inside pages and pages of songs to choose from, accompanied by buttons with numbers and letters to make your selection; and, possibly Ling's favourite, an interesting sandwich made out of grilled ground meat that had been smushed flat, piled high with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and melted cheese, with instead of flat and square pieces of bread, round buns that had been sliced in half.

As she ate her sample as they walked away, she sighed happily. "That may just be the greatest thing I have ever had the pleasure of eating," she said, glancing at the lone pork bun in her bag. It looked a little sad and pale in its rice-white bun in comparison to the golden-brown bun of the sandwich — a "cheeseburger" they called it — and the vibrant vegetable hues.

They passed the theatre, and Ling jerked her head in its direction. "Looks like they're doing a two-for-one New Year's special," she said excitedly. The poster looked a bit ridiculous: some waiflike woman with her hands pressed to her cheeks and mouth open as if she were screaming, while some barely-dressed man wrestled a saber-tooth moose lion.

"That looks absolutely awful," she said with a laugh. "Do you want to see it?"

Jia wasn't sure if Ling's assumption that the dunk tank victim was a volunteer made her feel better or worse. "That's…good, I guess," she muttered. "But I gotta wonder what kind of person would willingly climb onto that thing. I've heard of being a glutton for punishment, but geeze." She shook her head in sympathy as someone scored a hit and the man fell into the tank with a loud splash. It was reassuring to see a healer immediately approach with a towel and some sort of hot beverage to keep the man from freezing.

Still, she was glad for the opportunity to move onto to more pleasant subject matter. The presentation area was much more fun than the games, she thought, if only because there no one had the opportunity to watch her make a fool of herself. She oohed and aahed at the various inventions they saw, and was particularly smitten with one man's pitch for a box that would one-day allow everyone to watch Probending matches (or whatever they liked, he assured her) from the comfort of their homes, right as they happened. The radio would become a thing of the past, he promised her. When she asked to see this magical box of his, though, the man was suddenly much less confident, claiming that it was in the prototyping stages and thus not ready for public viewing. Jia walked away shaking her head. "It's a great idea," she opined as Ling munched on a strange-looking sandwich. "But I don't think it'll ever happen."

Jia stared at the theater poster when Ling pointed it out, her brow furrowed as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle. "What…what is even supposed to be going on there?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in hopes that another angle might help her make sense of what she was seeing. It didn't. "You're right; looks terrible," she agreed. "Let's do it."

The show was everything they'd hoped it would be. Jia couldn't stop laughing as they left the theater. "That," she pronounced through gasps of air. "Was one of the greatest things I've ever seen. I mean, did you see the woman's face when the moose-lion charged toward her? She looked like she'd just remembered that she'd left the stove on." Jia twisted her face into an impression, but couldn't hold it because she was too busy laughing. "I am so glad you spotted that," she told Ling, finally coming down from her high. She looked around. The show had definitely killed some time, and the bright light of the morning had dulled as the city entered the afternoon. "Where to now?" Jia asked, looking out at the waiting city. "After that riot, the temple might be a bit too serious. But I'll do my best to compose myself if that's what you want to do."