With the fifty mid-grade spirit stones we earned from the Che-Ting divorce settlement, the Lo & He Law Firm finally made some desperately needed infrastructure upgrades.
First, we bought premium feed for the goat, which it completely ignored in favor of chewing on the corners of our newly purchased, high-quality legal scrolls.
Second, Lo Yu bought a new set of robes. They were deep, professional black silk with silver embroidery. Unfortunately, because he refused to bathe, the pristine silk still smelled faintly of old cabbage and cheap brothel wine, making him look like a highly successful, aristocratic homeless man.
And finally, we bought a door.
It was a magnificent piece of heavy, reinforced ironwood. I had spent the entire morning installing it, adding three separate deadbolts, a peephole, and a complicated bell system.
"Is the ironwood truly necessary, Junior Associate?" Lo Yu sighed, sipping premium Longjing tea from a new porcelain cup. "We are a law firm, not a vault."
"Boss, you don't understand the heat we are under!" I hissed, peering through the peephole out into the alleyway, my eyes darting back and forth. "I insulted Senior Sister Ho Li-Fan! She's basically the lead detective of the Jade Water Sect! The Feds are watching us! They're probably trying to build a tax-evasion case against us right now!"
"She invited you to a hotel room, you monumental idiot."
"A sting operation hotel room!" I corrected, furiously taping a piece of paper over the glory hole I had gotten my foot stuck in yesterday. "I'm telling you, we need a paper shredder. Do you know a talisman that destroys financial records? Because if the Sect IRS audits us—"
CRACK. SMASH.
I didn't even have time to scream.
Our brand-new, expensive, triple-deadbolted ironwood door exploded inward. Splinters of premium wood showered the office like shrapnel. I was thrown backward, tumbling over the goat, who let out an offended baaaa as we crashed into the corner.
Through the cloud of expensive sawdust, a figure stumbled into the room.
It was a woman. She was wearing the elegant, feather-trimmed white robes of the Soaring Crane Sect—a faction famous for their peerless balance, lightweight footwork, and aerial sword techniques.
Or, at least, they were supposed to be famous for their balance.
This particular Fairy took two steps into our office, wobbled violently like a top losing momentum, let out a panicked yelp, and completely faceplanted into the floorboards.
"Ow," she muffled into the wood.
I groaned, rubbing my bruised tailbone. "Well, so much for the infrastructure upgrades. Are you the IRS?"
The woman slowly pushed herself up off the floor. As she did, the reason for her catastrophic lack of balance became immediately, overwhelmingly apparent.
Her waist was tiny, and her limbs were slender, built for the aerodynamic grace of the Soaring Crane. But her chest... her chest was an absolute, gravity-defying anomaly. She was carrying two massive, heavily-burdened Yin-gathering spheres that strained the very fabric of her white silk robes. They were so disproportionately large for her frame that every time she shifted her weight, momentum carried her forward.
She tried to stand up straight, overcompensated, leaned too far back, and violently crashed backward into our wine-barrel desk.
"By the Heavenly Dao!" Lo Yu yelled, steadying his spilling teacup. "Watch the mahogany!"
"I-I'm so sorry!" the Fairy cried, tears welling up in her large, expressive eyes. She tried to bow respectfully, but the shift in her center of gravity immediately caused her to pitch forward again. I had to dive forward and catch her by the shoulders to stop her from headbutting the floor a second time.
Up close, she smelled like jasmine, medicinal herbs, and the distinct, musky sweat of someone who had been desperately fighting gravity all morning.
My inner simp instantly overwrote my paranoia.
"Fear not, Fairy!" I declared, puffing out my chest and holding her steady. "You have fallen into the strong, legally-certified arms of He Lu! Tell me, what tragic wind blew an angel like you through our newly-destroyed door? Do you need me to... support your burdens?"
I gave her my most devastating wink, letting my gaze drop to her robes for a fraction of a second.
She blinked at me, her cheeks flushing a bright, embarrassed pink. Then, her expression hardened into a glare. "You... you're just like the rest of them! You think this is a blessing! You think this is funny!"
She forcefully shoved me away. The recoil of her own shove threw her off balance, and she spun like a top before crashing into the glory hole wall.
"It is not funny!" she wailed, sliding down the wall and burying her face in her hands. "My life is ruined! My Dao is shattered!"
"Junior Associate, cease your pathetic attempts at courtship. You are making the client dizzy," Lo Yu commanded, stepping around the desk. He leaned on his walking stick, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed her predicament with the cold, calculating gaze of a legal predator.
"I am Senior Lo Yu," he said, his voice dropping into that raspy, trustworthy cadence. "And you are clearly a victim of gross medical malpractice. Tell me your name, child."
She sniffled, looking up at him with watery eyes. "I am Fairy Su-Mi of the Soaring Crane Sect. And... and I want to sue the Heavenly Pill Pavilion."
"A bold target," Lo Yu murmured, stroking his scraggly beard. "The Heavenly Pill Pavilion is the largest apothecary in the city. What did they do to you, Fairy Su-Mi?"
Su-Mi took a deep, shuddering breath, her massive assets shifting dangerously. "I am a swordswoman, Senior. I was only three days away from the Inner Court Promotional Tournament. But my skin... my skin was a little dry from all the wind-attribute training. So, I went to the Pavilion and purchased a standard 'Minor Jade-Skin Refining Pill'."
"A common cosmetic supplement," Lo Yu nodded. "It should only smooth the pores and add a slight luminescence."
"That's what I thought!" Su-Mi cried indignantly. "But the alchemist on duty—that hack, Grandmaster Pill-Cauldron—gave me the wrong bottle! I swallowed it before bed. When I woke up..." She gestured frantically to her chest. "He gave me a concentrated 'Twin-Peak Expanding Lotus' pill meant for dual-cultivation specialists!"
I stared at her. I couldn't help it. My modern brain was screaming.
"Wait," I interjected, holding my hands up. "You went in for lotion, and they accidentally gave you permanent, magical breast implants?"
"Yes!"
"And you're... mad about this?" I asked, utterly bewildered. "Fairy Su-Mi, you won the genetic lottery! You're a walking masterpiece! Why are you suing?!"
"Because I am a Soaring Crane!" Su-Mi shrieked at me. "Do you know what the Soaring Crane sword style requires?! It requires the aerodynamic profile of a willow branch! It requires perfect, pinpoint balance! Look at me!"
She tried to demonstrate. She drew a beautiful, slender silver sword from her waist, dropping into a one-legged crane stance. She raised the blade above her head.
"Crane Ascends the—WAH!"
The sheer weight of her chest immediately pulled her forward. She flailed her arms like a drowning chicken, dropped her sword, and faceplanted directly into the burlap sack of stolen panties in the corner of the office.
The goat, who had been sleeping on the sack, let out a startled bleat and jumped onto the wine barrel.
"My center of gravity is completely destroyed!" Su-Mi sobbed into the burlap. "I can't sword-dance! I can't even walk down stairs without a handrail! I went to the Sect Elders, and they just told me to transfer to the Dual Cultivation division! My martial arts career is over because of that quack's mislabeled pill!"
I winced. Okay, seeing it in action, that actually was a massive problem. She was a fighter plane that had been retrofitted with two boulders on the nose.
Before I could offer my condolences, a familiar, terrifying rattling sound drifted through the shattered doorframe.
"Hot milk tea..." a gravelly voice croaked.
The old, wrinkly crone from the other day shuffled past our ruined entrance, pushing her wooden cart. Her tattered grey robes hung open, displaying those two massive, leathery sacks of synthesizing inventory that sagged all the way down to her waistline.
Fairy Su-Mi, still untangling herself from the burlap sack, froze. Her wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto the crone's chest.
The crone stopped. Her milky, cataract-filled eyes slowly panned over Su-Mi's heavily burdened, gravity-defying Yin-spheres. A toothless grin spread across the old woman's face. She gave Su-Mi a slow, knowing nod.
"Level ten gyat..." the crone rasped, pointing a knobby finger at Su-Mi's chest. "Gravity is undefeated... Fanum tax..."
She giggled her wheezing, broken laugh and hobbled away down the alleyway, her waist-length assets swinging like two grandfather clock pendulums.
Su-Mi let out a blood-curdling shriek, clutching her own chest in absolute, existential terror. "Is that my future?! By the Heavenly Dao, is that what happens to the Twin Peaks when the Qi runs out?!"
"Clear-cut product liability and gross negligence," Lo Yu declared seamlessly, capitalizing on her sheer panic. "The Dao of Aerodynamics has been violated. A swordswoman's center of gravity is sacred ground. To alter it without consent is a Class-Two Tort."
Su-Mi scrambled up from the panty sack, her eyes shining with desperate hope. "You'll take my case? The other lawyers in the city laughed at me! They said the Heavenly Pill Pavilion has too much money. They said I should just be grateful for my 'newfound femininity'."
"They are cowards who do not understand the tragic physics of the Twin Peaks," Lo Yu sneered. "We will drag Grandmaster Pill-Cauldron before the Magistrate. We will sue him for lost wages, emotional distress, and the total destruction of your martial arts foundation. We will bleed that apothecary dry."
"Oh, thank you, Senior Lo!" Su-Mi beamed, though she had to quickly grab the wall to stop from tipping over again. "I can pay you! I have thirty mid-grade stones saved up for my new sword!"
"Keep your stones, Fairy Su-Mi," Lo Yu said smoothly, raising a hand.
I whipped my head around to look at him. Keep the stones?! Lo Yu's missing-tooth smile widened into something profoundly creepy. He leaned across the wine barrel, his eyes locked onto her white robes.
"The Lo & He Law Firm requires a more... personal retainer," Lo Yu purred. "To truly argue the severity of your aerodynamic suffering in court, I must fully comprehend the structural failure of your original garments. When the pill took effect... did it happen suddenly?"
Su-Mi blushed furiously. "Y-yes. In the middle of the night. My traditional Soaring Crane chest-bindings... they violently ruptured."
"Fascinating," Lo Yu whispered, his eyes glazing over with degenerate ecstasy. "Bring me the ruptured silk bindings. The ones soaked in your panicked, midnight, center-of-gravity-losing sweat. Bring them to me unwashed, so that I may study the tragic resonance of their torn threads. That shall be our retainer."
Fairy Su-Mi stared at him. She looked at me. I just rubbed my temples and stared at the ceiling, actively disassociating.
"You... you need my torn underwear for legal research?" Su-Mi asked hesitantly.
"It is vital to the Oopsie-Daisy precedent," Lo Yu lied with absolute, unshakeable conviction.
"Well... if it helps the case," Su-Mi nodded solemnly, her fear of the milk-tea lady's fate overriding her common sense. "I will bring them tomorrow morning!"
She turned to leave, took one step toward the shattered doorframe, overcompensated her balance, and walked face-first into the doorjamb with a loud THWACK.
She rubbed her forehead, gave us a shaky thumbs-up, and wobbled out into the alleyway.
I stood in the ruined office, staring at the splinters of our fifty-stone ironwood door.
"Boss," I sighed, grabbing the broom. "I'm starting to think we need to invest in a net. We have a medical malpractice suit against the richest apothecary in the city."
"Indeed, Junior Associate," Lo Yu grinned, pouring himself another cup of tea. "Prepare the Shadow-Catching Jade. It is time we paid a visit to the Heavenly Pill Pavilion and requested a look at their inventory."