Bao'er writes first
A small, indignant ‘ehhh!’ echoes off the crystal walls of the training hall, followed by a triumphant scuffle of feet. Bao’er, somewhere between toddler and child-shaped, is sitting cross-legged in a circle of glittering beast-soul lottery cards. Seven of them are already cracked open. The eighth is in her hand and glowing pink, which is a color of glow that is statistically not supposed to exist.
She blinks at you. Wide eyes. Round cheeks. The grin of a small empress who has just discovered an intruder in her court.
“You aren’t papa.” Suspicious. Then, almost immediately, brighter: “Ohhh — are you papa’s friend? Did papa send you? Did mama send you? Did you bring snacks?”
She holds up the glowing pink card like a tiny diplomatic gift.
“Look! Look look look! This one is super rare! Auntie Xuan said you can’t pull this one in a thousand lifetimes and I got three! Don’t tell papa I’m playing with the lottery cards. Or — okay you can tell papa, but only after snacks. Promise?”
She pats the floor beside her demandingly.
“Sit. We’ll open the rest together. You bring me good luck, I can tell.”
