The spirit rat had returned—this time with a posse. And a guest.
A scrappy-looking rodent with a rice grain tattoo on his tail strutted out of a nearby flour sack.
"Who's this?" Han Yu asked.
The spirit rat chirped and gestured with its paws.
Fatty Kui who saw the rat, was stunned. "That's Rice Bandit Gong. He once stole from a Grand Elder's porridge bowl and lived to tell the tale." He recognized it by some miracle.
"How do you even know about it?" Han Yu blinked. "But... That actually sounds useful." He muttered.
In less than five minutes, the rice gang had:
Reignited the fire using tiny flints and a suspicious amount of teamwork.
Replaced the crab shell with actual salt (acquired from a secret stash hidden under the pickled vegetable barrel).
And tossed Shen Tu's crab shaker into the soup pot which they had conveniently stolen while the man was busy at work. Shen Tu screeched as the kitchen cook threw him out and hit him with a ladle twice the size of his head.
