In Elwynn Forest, the where cobblestone roads of Goldshire meander through the woods, there is a dirt that path goes off the main road. Were you to take that path, it will lead you to a restaurant, run by a pandaren. The soft glow of red paper lanterns lights the way there; each sways gently in the evening breeze, welcoming the weary and the hungry to her door. The smell of herbs and spices, strange and familiar, are carried by a summer’s breeze, hooking the part of the brain that appeals to one’s stomach and sense of curiosity. Sizzling meat, the pop of fat and grease on open fire, and the clatter of dishes, chatter, and laughter take them the rest of the way, to a place unlike any they have never seen. Heroes and adventurers are quick to point out the style – how the gentle curve and slope of red wood and white stone are welcoming, natural, and pleasing to the eye, unlike the rough, angular, and unnatural architecture of man and dwarf. The way in is wide and welcoming, and lacks a door. There is no door, she will tell you, because one should not bar happiness only to those inside – all are welcome, so long as they are hungry and happy. And should you come, she will be there to greet you with a smile as warm as the radiant sun. These were the sights and sounds and smells that greeted Jian as she stepped through the threshold.
Lihua, the owner, nearly dropped her plates in shock when she saw another of her kind entering her restaurant. Her green eyes widened at the sight of the dusty traveler, dirty and worn from the long road, her dark hair, dark clothing, and the black and white fur of her face flecked brown with earth. She set the plates on the nearest table and hurried towards the other pandaren, the fat of her wide body quivering with each rushed step, welcoming her as she would any guest, with a warm and wide smile.
“Ah, welcome, welcome!” said Lihua in her soft voice, bowing deep.
Jian watched the fur and flesh of the owner’s body rise and fall with the simple movement, an abundance of breast and tinkling jewelry spilling over the low cut cleavage of ornate Pandarian robe. Black pigtails hung in the air before her, before the tips slid over wide shoulders, and back behind the head of the plump pandaren. Then those green eyes met hers again. She said nothing in reply.
But silence didn’t faze her smile. “No need to be shy. Come in and take a seat. Any seat you want.” She gestured to the tables, some curved, set up in fours to make wide circles with huge, simmering pots in the middle; others smaller, ovular, for individuals or pairs. The cracks in the wood seemed to dance in the smoke and the low flickering light of the paper lanterns above.
Jian nodded, and walked towards the left hand side of the restaurant, away from the other guests; out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Lihua was following her, waddling along no more than three steps behind her, her wide gut wobbling like a bowl of noodles in an earthquake. She was holding onto her plates again, two dishes of steaming dumplings, piled high. She set one on the table, and then the other.
“I didn’t order yet,” Jian said, looking down at the dumplings as they sat in front of her. Steam condensed liquid flavor, water and grease trickled along the dough, each one glimmering in the low light. Her mouth was watering. “Isn’t this another customer’s food?”
Lihua’s plump cheeks turned a shade pink beneath her fur. “Oh those – they weren’t…” She stopped herself, and pushed one of the plates forward. Her lips tightened, a smile hiding embarrassment. “Please. They’re on the house.”
The grating scrape of wood on wood stalled Jian’s hand. She looked away from the steaming plate to see the other pandaren dragging a chair behind her, pulling it up to the empty space across from her guest. A low groan from the seat accompanied Lihua as she sat down, shuddering at the sheer weight of the pandaren that rest upon it. The wide wooden legs and the stout frame shook as she fussed with her robe, shifting the girth of her stomach in her hands to pull the silk out of the folds of her fat, her wide rear end spilling over the edges of the seat and the gaps behind her when she finally settled herself. Yet more of her seemed to rise and widen around the seat when Lihua relaxed and exhaled. She offered Jian another pleasant smile afterwards.
The owner was big, very big, even by pandaren standards, Jian had realized, watching the tips of a paw sink as it lazily scratched at the stomach – grown fat from never having to wander, never having to search for food or shelter, for all she needed and more was under one roof. The chair groaned again as Lihua pulled herself forward, took one of the plates of dumplings, and set it on top of her stomach. She would be in need of new furniture and a tailor, perhaps, but they’d be grateful for gainful employment.
“You’re a monk, are you not?” Lihua asked her. Sticky fingers held up a warm dumpling, guiding it towards her mouth, only to reach for another when she stuffed the first morsel past her lips.
“I am,” Jian answered, staring at Lihua as she ate. Her gluttony was revolting and mesmerizing all at once. How easily the process of eating became fluid to her, automatic, the deft motion of fingers to dumpling, dumpling to mouth, and to another dumpling, over and over. She had to blink to pull herself out of the trance. “What gave me away?”
The owner swallowed a mouthful of food, and reached for more. “Your pose, your grace.” She paused her feeding for a moment to smile. “The fact you just told me you were one.”
The other pandaren took a dumpling into her hands. The warmth and grease soaked dough stuck to her fingers. “I see.”
Jian was hesitant to begin eating. Her own appetite was dwindling in the face of the owner’s growing hunger as she stared at her again, watching her gorge herself on food, the pile of dumplings disappearing, one after another, only for her to set the plate down minutes later with a tight lipped belch. Then Lihua reached for the other plate. Having lost her appetite, Jian set her own dumpling back down, and pushed the plate closer to the other pandaren.
Lihua leaned in, the chair beneath her painfully creaking with her movement. “You must forgive me for asking. It’s been so long since I’ve seen another of our kind. To be honest, I’ve… I’ve never actually seen a monk before.”
Jian narrowed her blue eyes. “Really?”
Lihua set the second plate on her stomach, hesitating. “I have lived a sheltered life. I love my father, but he never let me leave his sight. But enough about me – what of you? Why have you come here?”
The monk pursed her lips. “Training.”
A dumpling passed Lihua’s lips. And then she reached for another. “What kind of training?”
“Training that can only be done here.” Jian’s mouth screwed tighter. “Not there.”
“Why not there?”
Jian shot up and slammed her fists into the table. “Because I don’t want to!”
The clatter of dishes and the chatter and laughter of the guests ceased, as all eyes fell upon the monk in the wake of her outburst. Jian’s gaze fixed upon a frightened Lihua, whose chair nearly gave out under her when she jumped in shock, scattering dumplings on the table and the floor. The monk couldn’t look away. The weight of embarrassment was mounting. The back of her throat was dry, burning, searching for the words that couldn’t come to her lips. How badly she wanted to make it all go away, bring it back to the way it was with just a word. She closed her eyes and shut out the low light instead, urging calm to herself as her hands balled into fists. But the sound of something else, something low and sinister, brought another wave of unease over the restaurant: laughter.
Jian looked up. Five men approached them – three humans, a stocky dwarf, and a night elf who towered over the other four. They wore matching outfits: dark shoes, dark pants, dark vests and red undershirts. They were worn and rugged. And they were armed.
The scratching of chairs along the wood accompanied their footsteps as the patrons pushed and pulled themselves out of the way of the passing group. Some eyes went wide, others narrowed, all uncertain of what would unfold. When the men came to a halt in front the pandaren, silence reigned over the restaurant. The unease was tense, suffocating. Even the wind outside died, out of fear of breaking it.
“Were we interrupting anything?” the man in front asked. His lips twisted to a toothy grin.
Lihua pushed herself out of her seat, grunting as she stood and faced him. Jian sat back down, and watched them speak.
The fat pandaren pursed her lips. “As a matter of fact, you were.” She put a hand on her wide hips, and thrust a clawed finger at him. “I told you never to come back here. You and your friends aren’t welcome anymore.”
The dwarf spoke up. A thoughtful hand began stroking his dirty red beard. “An’ has that stopped us from comin’ back, lass?” he bellowed in his deep voice, flashing her a yellow smile afterwards. “I think not.”
The man up front shrugged his shoulders, and ran a hand through his short black hair. “Listen, lady, you haven’t done a good job of that.” He gestured to the restaurant and the silent guests behind him. “You run a nice place – all we want is a small cut. It’s that simple.” His hand fell to his side, resting on the hilt of his sword. “And we ain’t leaving anytime soon. If you won’t do that, then the least you could do is give us a free meal.”
Lihua folded her arms under her ample chest. “And what if I say no?”
The tall elf, who remained silent during the exchange, hooked his foot on the wooden leg of the table and kicked it over in one deft motion, spilling food and drink to the floor in a loud crash that startled the other guests. Then the other humans in the entourage dispersed and joined the elf in ransacking the restaurant. In a brief flurry of madness, they kicked over tables and pushed over food, drink, and chairs, harassing her customers with brandished blades and threats of injury to any fool enough to play hero. And all Lihua could do was stand there helplessly as her customers scattered and fled, balling her fists painfully, green eyes watering as the human and dwarf sneered and drank in her anguish. Jian just sat there, arms crossed and face neutral, watching the destruction play out before her.
Then the black haired human raised a hand. The others stopped in an instant, and then headed out the door. He and the dwarf stayed behind. “We’re through playing nice. You got one last chance – pay up tomorrow, or we’ll do more than just knock over a couple of tables.”
Lihua watched them as they left the building, running off into the coming night. The wind picked up again as she just stood there, dazed, surveying the damage that they had caused in such a short amount of time. She shut her eyes, her plump face wrenched in pain, as she turned and bowed deeply to Jian. The monk looked down at the floor, at the drops of water in front of the pandaren’s paws.
“I… I must apologize,” she said, her soft voice trembling as her head rose to meet Jian’s. “You came at a bad time. You should not have seen that.” Her face twisted up again, and then she fell to the floor on her knees, her head and black hair touching the food and drink stained ground. “I beg you, please help me! I do not know what I will do when they return. I am not a fighter like you, and I don’t know who else to turn to. Please…”
The monk shut her eyes, and breathed out through her nose. This was the last thing she needed. She just wanted to stop somewhere, get some food, and then be on her way – not get tangled up in someone else’s affairs. As strong as the urge to do so grew, she just couldn’t walk away, not after she saw that. It would be a stain upon her honor to do so, and letting a fellow countrywoman fall prey to petty thugs would only heap further guilt upon her conscience.
Jian opened her eyes. “Fine.” She felt bile rise in the back of her throat when she said that word. “We’ll wait until they come back. When they do, I will deal with them.”
Lihua took hold of Jian’s sandaled paw, and kissed it out of gratitude. “Thank you! Thank you!” The fat pandaren let go, and struggled to get her knees and then to her paws, fighting against the weight the gut pinning her to the floor. “You don’t know how much this means to me,” she said as she finally stood up. She was out of breath from the exertion of standing up, but she was smiling a tear streaked smile. “Please, stay here for the night; I have rooms upstairs. I will make us some food, and then I will join you.”
Before the monk could say a word of gratitude, or object to the offer of food, Lihua was hurrying for the kitchens in the back. The owner was slow and heavy, but she knew how to move whenever food was involved. Jian rose from her seat, and she felt herself growing heavy, suddenly, like lead. Her tired legs were stiff, the soles of her paws flaring at the thought of yet more walking. The fatigue and wear and tear of travel had finally caught up with her. Bed sounded like a good idea, and a free bed was hard to pass up. It beat sleeping outside again, in the cold and rain. The smell of spice and herbs filled Jian’s nostrils as she passed the kitchen, the pop of grease and flame masking the heavy steps of her feet on the creaking stairs as she headed up to the bedrooms.
The white stone walls of the first floor gave way to wood on the second. She paused for a moment in the hallway to look at the shelves on the walls, which held trinkets like small wooden kegs, miniature trees with small pink flowers, sealed scrolls, and other items from Pandaria she recognized. The room itself was small and dark, bathed in red by the single paper lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was sparsely furnished, just a bed, a dresser, a table and a chair, and nothing else. The Pandarian influence was uncanny; she couldn’t find a trace of foreign craftsmanship anywhere in the building, as if the whole place were built there, and then somehow lifted from its home, carried over the sea, and brought here to this place. A pang of homesickness hit her; seeing the comforts of her homeland surrounding her was suffocating. It was as if she had never left. She hated it.
She shuffled towards the bed, and fell on top of it, causing it to buckle with the weight of her body and the force of her fall. The sheets felt warm against her fur. The mattress gently sloped inwards, sinking with her weight, inviting her to into take in its softness, and sleep. Her eyelids grew heavy. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept in a bed this comfortable. The last bed she slept in was back in Stranglethorn, to the far south. It was so hot and humid there, even in the dead of night. She didn’t know jungles could get that hot at night. The bed she used was cramped, wobbly, and nearly gave out under her weight. She remembered the sweat and the mosquitoes; the constant tossing and the turning; the suffocating air; the oil; the endless bickering of the cabin owners that went all through the night. That was the first, and last time, she had decided, she would ever stay the night with goblins.
Heavy footfalls and the creak of the door pulled Jian from the edge of sleep, before the smell of food brought her back into the realm of consciousness. Lihua entered the room, carrying a large tray of food, heaped high with more steaming dumplings, bowls of noodles, seared meat and leafy greens, and two cups, all balanced in her delicate hands. Jian watched her as she knelt down and set the tray down on the floor with all the gracefulness a fat pandaren could muster.
“I am sorry if I woke you,” said Lihua, grunting, as she stood back up, “but I could not send you to bed without at least a light snack. I can bring more up if this is not enough.”
This was more than just a light snack, Jian thought to herself, staring at all of that heaped up food before her. It was a feast. She felt herself getting hungry again, suddenly realizing that she had not eaten all day. Jian rolled out of bed, reluctant to leave the warmth of the sheets and the softness of the mattress behind as she got onto the hard wooden ground. She watched as Lihua passed her, and walked to the corner of the room near the bed, where she bent forwards, touched the wall, and pushed it to one side. The monk was surprised to see it slide open into a small closet, which was filled with wooden kegs.
“I was not sure where to put all of this when I had it imported,” Lihua said, bending forwards to grab one in both hands. She struggled to hold it in her arms as she turned around and waddled back to where Jian sat. “Up here seemed like a good place at the time, though I might regret the choice later, should I open this part of the restaurant to the guests.”
Lihua brought it back, set it down, and uncorked the top. The smell of barley permeated through the room, a strong kick to her nostrils, like too much perfume.
“That Stormstout?” Jian asked, sniffing the air. “It smells like it.”
Lihua nodded as she filled the first cup with foaming amber. She passed it to Jian. “The very same.”
“It must have cost a fortune to bring that much all the way over here.”
She filled the second cup, and held it up. “It is a small price to pay to see my guests happy.”
The monk lifted her cup in kind, and they both drank. It tasted just as good as she remembered it. She set the cup down, took a bowl of noodles in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and began to eat. Thick strands of buckwheat stuck together as they rose from the broth, with just the right amount of heft in her chopsticks, before she lifted the noodles to her mouth and slurped them down. To have a hot meal going in her body was invigorating – one warming her insides and chasing the liquor that bubbled in her stomach made it even better. Being delicious helped immensely. Lihua watched the monk eat her meal, her smile growing wider when her guest tipped the bowl upwards and drank the broth.
“I must apologize for my earlier rudeness,” Jian said afterwards. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It’s… It’s a touchy subject.”
Lihua shook her head, took her bowl in her hands, and ate. “There’s no need. You’re doing everyone a favor by getting rid of those thugs.”
“Why do they keep coming here? It certainly can’t just be for the atmosphere.”
The owner pursed her lips and began to eat. “They are like flies,” she said between loud slurps. “When they see a new shop, they swoop in and swarm the place until they get what they want. That is not to imply that this place is terrible, but… you understand my meaning. Anyways, they are convinced that I will roll over and give in to their threats. I’ve held them off this long, just by being stubborn.” Lihua finished off her bowl, set it on the tray, and sighed. “But, I am not a fighter, the city guard and the local adventurers are busy as it is. If they resort to violence…”
Jian raised a hand. “Don’t you worry. I said I’d help you out, and I keep my word.” She refilled her own cup and drank the whole thing down in one gulp. Her head was buzzing with the rush of warm liquor. “Besides, it’s been some time since I beat anyone up.”
Lihua reached for the dumplings, and began funneling them towards her mouth, one sticky handful at a time. Jian could have sworn by the Celestials that she saw her stomach bulging outwards from the rapid intake of food, stretching the fabric of that outfit to its limits. She didn’t know anyone could pack that much food into them. The pile of dumplings had vanished, before the monk could even take one. Between mouthfuls, Lihua said, “I did not know monks beat people up just for fun.”
Jian shrugged. “They don’t. I do.”
“You don’t sound like most monks.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know any monks?”
Lihua took a leafy green, and placed several bits of meat onto the center, before rolling it up, and shoving it into her mouth. Then she took another leaf, and did the same. “Well, from what I’ve read and heard from others,” she said, chewing it up, “before I left Pandaria.”
The monk just stared at Lihua as she continued to gorge herself on food, gobbling up the meats and the greens with surprising speed, shoveling them all into her mouth, until only an empty and spattered tray of fat and grease was all that was left.
“I see,” said Jian, with a sigh. Oh well. At least the noodles were delicious. “Let’s just say Pandaria was getting too stuffy for my tastes, so I needed to take my training somewhere else. Now I wander around and fight people. It’s a fun way to test my skills – better than staying in a boring monastery all day.” She took the small wooden keg in one arm, and drank from the tap.
“Was that why you left?”
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ was what the monk wanted to say. “You’ll see,” was what she settled for instead.
She yawned loudly. “But, as delicious as your food and drink are, I need my sleep.” That was a half lie – she was tired, but she wanted to stay up and eat more food and drink more beer. But she convinced herself that Lihua would just eat it all before she could even take a bite. No sense in watching her stuff herself silly if she could not take part.
The owner nodded, and began gathering the bowls and the cups. She looked disappointed, but she tried her best to hide it behind a tight-lipped smile. “Right, you need your strength for tomorrow.” She set everything on the tray, and set the tray on the dresser. When the monk rose from the floor, she approached her, and hugged her warmly. “Thank you again for what you’re doing. I do not know what I would do without you.”
Jian nearly fell over as she squirmed in the affectionate embrace of the owner and the weight her body. Lihua was no taller than Jian – she was a few inches shorter, in fact – but the hugeness of her wide body, and the ease in which her soft stomach and breasts enveloped the monk, startled her. She felt herself being sucked into the doughy paunch, the folds of its fat piling on and shoving itself around her own stout frame. She couldn’t even get her fingers to touch one another as she wrapped her arms around Lihua’s waist to return the hug. It was like hugging a warm, fuzzy, jiggling tree. She did not know how else to describe it. Jian couldn’t help but think to herself, as she glanced down into the deep crevasse of white cleavage that smothered her own breasts, that Lihua would have quite the pair on her, if she wasn’t so huge everywhere else. And just as quickly as she was engulfed, the fat around her body receded as Lihua pulled back, took the tray in her hands, and quietly left the room.
The patter of fading footsteps gave way to silence, and then Jian was alone again. The monk climbed back into bed, and stared at the ceiling, still hungry and smelling of food. She watched the slow sway of the red lantern hanging above her head, the candle within it flickering gently in the air as the red wood danced until her eyes closed.
When they opened, the candle was out, and it was morning.

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There was a commotion downstairs.
Jian roused herself and jumped out of bed. She was slow to open the door, putting an ear to it instead, listening to the muffled shouting and crashing through the wooden barrier. She cursed under her breath. They came earlier than she expected. She barged through the door, moved silently through the hallway, heading for the stairs. And as she climbed down, she got a better glimpse of the wreckage, and the thugs causing it. There were more of them, at least ten she could see from her vantage point. She recognized the tall elf and two of the humans amongst the goons knocking over more tables and chairs, breaking them over one another, and tossing the remnants to the growing pile of wood. And then she saw the human with black hair, the stocky dwarf with the red beard, and Lihua. The human her against the far wall, holding her at knifepoint.
The monk marched down the stairs, and did what any hot-blooded Pandaren would do in an emergency during the early hours of the morning: she yawned.
That was enough to get the attention of the humans who were at the foot of the stairs. They scowled at her. “Who the hell are you?” one shouted. The others turned their heads to the pandaren on the steps, and all eyes were on Jian.
“Just another guest at this fine establishment,” she said, scratching her stomach with a lazy black paw. “Much like yourselves, I wager. Though I was told this morning’s entertainment would be arriving later.”
The human at the bottom of the steps, one with a red bandanna over his mouth, furrowed his dark eyes, and held a dagger up. “Crawl back to your room, unless you’re looking for trouble.”
Jian raised her eyes and held up her hands in a look of feigned shock. “That is no way to treat a fellow guest! I came downstairs to get some breakfast, and here I see you holding up the poor cook.” She gestured to the wall at the far end, where Lihua was being held. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re all up to no good.”
“Very observant of ye, lass,” the dwarf with the dirty teeth growled as he turned to face her, “but this has nothin’ to do with you. Be off with ya – hide under yer bed ‘til this blows over.”
“Can’t we just talk this out? I’m sure this disagreement can be solved with our words, not breaking things like children.”
The dwarf grinned a yellow-toothed grin. “Brave words, miss. Why don’t ye come down here, so we can have ourselves this nice chat?”
The monk scratched her chin, and pointed to the entrance. “Why not outside? It’s a nice day, and I’m sure the sun on our backs will make us all much happier.”
The man with black hair grit his teeth and snapped at his men. “We don’t have time for this! Just deal with her!”
The human with the dagger lunged forward. Before he could blink, a sandaled paw struck his hand and knocked the blade from his grasp, and then a sudden stinging pain rocked his head when that same paw smashed his face into the white stone wall. The monk held him there, one paw to the back of his head, the other paw still on the stairs. She crossed her arms under her chest, and stared the leader down. “Outside. I don’t want to cause more of a mess in here.”
The black haired human’s cheeks burned red. “Out! All of you, out!”
The humans, the dwarf, and the elf backed away from the monk and headed for the door, pouring out into the dirt road that lead to the restaurant, until all that was left was Jian, Lihua, and the leader. Jian pulled her foot from the human and watched him as he slumped to the floor at the bottom of the steps. There was red on the wall where his head was. She stepped over him, and walked through the restaurant, keeping her eyes fixed on the black-haired man when she approached the threshold.
“You too,” she said to him, calmly, when their eyes met.
Lihua’s chest rose and fell, her wide eyes filled with panic as the blade against her neck wavered. Jian approached, and the tip of the dagger prodded the pandaren’s throat. She trembled as its cold touch cut through her fur and nicked her skin. It took all of her willpower to not scream.
“Not another step,” the human growled.
Jian rolled her eyes. “She’s not going anywhere.” Jian’s hand grasped the fat pandaren’s stomach, moving her wobbling gut around in her fingers as they sunk into the silk robe. Lihua gasped at the touch, shuddering with the movement of her jiggling paunch. “Do you really think someone like her is going to run off and get help? Her poor heart will give out halfway to Goldshire.” The monk pulled her hand back, and smiled. “Tell you what: you win, you get to do what you want with the two of us and this restaurant – I win… well… it’s fourteen to one; the odds of victory are in your favor.”
The human stared at Jian, then glanced to Lihua for a moment, before looking back at Jian. He smirked at this, and slowly pulled the knife from her throat. “Alright then. After you.”
Lihua slumped against the wall with a hand to her throat, her eyes shut, and gasping for air. Jian walked past her, and put a hand on her shoulder.
The monk got a better look at the motley assortment of thugs that surrounded her when she stepped outside. Many of them were human men as she had earlier noticed – there were only a few women among them, looking just as fierce as the men; the dwarf, and the elf were there as well; there was even a gnome lurking about their legs, grinning madly as his bald head shone in the sunlight. She shook her head and looked away, but she could still see him grinning away out the corner of her eye. Why did the gnomes have to creep her out like that?
No sooner did she look away, the first thug rushed her from the side, hands outstretched, as if to tackle her. The pandaren dodged him, and slammed her sandaled paw into his back and sent him sprawling to the dirt beneath her.
Jian shook her head as she felt him struggling under her weight. “Look, I know there’s a lot of you, and I’ll try to make this fair, but the least you could do is give me a decent warm up.”
Two more humans charged her, one from the front, another from behind. The monk stepped off of the fallen thug and kicked him in the gut before he could rise, launching him forwards and tripping up the legs of the human up front. When he fell forwards, Jian’s leg hooked out and caught his neck, pulled him down, and sent him flying backwards into the second attacker at her rear.
“Come on,” Jian muttered, sounding more frustrated. “Three of you went down just like that. You’re down to ten, if you count the one inside.” Her blue eyes scanned the crowd. The humans seemed to wither under her stern glare, backing off when her eyes met theirs. The night elf was the only one that stood his ground. Jian locked eyes with him, and she grinned. “Alright, big boy. Show me what you’ve got.”
The silent elf stepped forward, getting the cricks out of his neck as he flexed his arms. He was seven and a half feet tall, emerald-haired, and towering over her with ease, sinewy and broad chested. His amber eyes glowed with confidence as he raised his hands, and dropped into a fighting stance.
The monk chuckled. “Ah, good. Someone who thinks they know what they’re doing.” She folded her arms under her chest and just stood there, waiting for him to attack. She watched his careful steps in the dirt and the slow, deliberate movement of his legs as he circled to her left. Jian didn’t budge when he slipped out of view. “Don’t let me scare you from your butt kicking,” she said to him. “Attack me whenever you want it.”
The moment the elf’s footsteps came to a stop behind her, he threw a punch, only to find that his fist met thin air, and wouldn’t pull back to his side. The pandaren was no longer in front of him – she was to his right, and gripping his arm tight in one hand. She bent forwards and thrust one paw backwards to kick him in the head, but his free hand blocked the blow and grabbed her ankle, and the fighters were locked into place, struggling against one another to find an opening. His knee lashed out to meet her stomach, but her other hand stopped the kick. He switched legs and tried to strike her again in the same spot, but her hand was faster, and blocked his every attempt. Then Jian threw her weight forward, and the tall elf followed her as the pair spun, tumbled, and fell to the dirt with her on top of his chest. She pinned him down and ended the fight with a single fist to his face, much to her surprise and disappointment, when the elf’s body went still.
Jian’s body began to tingle the moment consciousness left the elf. And he did not stir even as her frame shuddered and pushed outwards on top of his, taking up more and more space upon his flattened stomach. Were he aware of what was happening above him, were he aware of the fact that he was rapidly disappearing beneath her, it would have been too late to move her. The fabric of her clothing tore at the seams as her body swelled and spilled through the growing number of tears and seams. The fiber of her sandals groaned with the widening girth of her toes as they snapped the laces that held them firmly to her paws. The crowd of thugs backed away from the pandaren when they saw this, looks of fear and uncertainty washing over each and every one of their horrified faces, when the monk finally decided to stand and face them once more. She surpassed the elf’s own impressive stature, standing well over ten feet in height.
“Finally,” Jian’s voice bellowed, sounding rather pleased, “I knew at least one of you had it in you to make this happen.” The enormous pandaren turned to face their leader, who was just as shocked as the rest of his underlings. “You really ought to train your men better – I didn’t feel a thing when I beat the others. And I could have gotten a bit more out of the elf, had he lasted a bit longer.” Thunder struck the ground when she stepped away from the fallen elf, causing the thugs to jump with the fall of her paws. Muscle rippled beneath the bare white fur of her stomach and the black fur of her arms and legs as she flexed them. What little clothing that remained on her top looked more like the straps of an ill-fitting bra. Her pants did not fair any better. “Oh well. The rest of you better make up for them.”
Their shaken leader ordered his men to attack her – he put on a brave face, but beneath the façade, the uncertainty in his voice was obvious. “Don’t just stand there, there’s more of you then her. It’s only one woman, get her!”
The remaining thugs charged the pandaren all at once, coming in at all sides, convinced that his words rang true. She stood her ground and swiped at them with her wide arms and paws, knocking them around like ragdolls as she set aside graceful technique for raw power. Again and again, they rose from the ground and attacked her head on, fewer rising each time to meet her assault. The monk’s strength and size grew as their numbers thinned, feet piling on feet as her enemies looked more like toys to her massive hands. Their leader backed away, dismayed at the loss of his men and the hugeness of the monk they struggled to fight; only, it wasn’t fighting anymore – it was a one sided slaughter.
The black haired human pulled back and ran for the restaurant, not caring whether the monk spotted him or not. I still got the other one, he kept thinking, I can drag her out of here, get her back to the hideout – I can ransom her and…
That was as far as he got. Lihua rounded the corner when he passed through the entrance, and gave him a face full of cast iron frying pan. Clang!
Iron rang in her hands as the leader dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. She tossed the cookware aside, and quickly sat on top of him before he could stir. The bones in his back buckled and popped painfully under the weight of her rear end, her fat bottom spilling over his narrow body, and pinning him to the floor. Lihua clapped her hands and stamped her feet on the ground, looking happier than ever. “Haha, I got one!”
A thirty foot high Jian turned her head when she heard that laughter, and she could not help but smile. “And here I thought he could take a punch.” Then the monk put her hands on her hips, then tuned to face the only fighter remaining, who was no more a stone compared to her. “Now, how about you, dwarf? You look like you won’t fall over in a stiff breeze.”
The ragged dwarf got up from the ground, breathing hard, scowling up at Jian from within her shadow. “It don’t matter how big ye get, bear – yer goin’ down!” He charged the mountain of a pandaren with a thunderous roar from his lungs, picking up speed and kicking up dirt even as she got larger and larger in his eyes.
Jian pouted. He had spirit, but there was no way he could put up a fight. Not anymore. She raised a wide, dirt stained paw into the air when he drew close, and then stepped on him with a deafening thud. She felt him squirm under her weight, refusing to buckle and flatten under the stress of her paw like a crunched up bug desperate for escape. But his thrashing slowed, and eventually stopped. The monk sighed in relief. It was finally over.
“You did it!” Lihua shouted from the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her plump and fuzzy cheeks. “I can’t believe you did it!”
The enormous monk kept her hands on her hips, triumphant. “I told you I would get rid of them. It was no trouble at – OW!” Something sharp had nicked the bottom of her paw with enough force to cause her to jump to one leg. From the vantage point of her makeshift seat, Lihua could see something hanging from underneath Jian’s sole, something small and thrashing madly, clinging to her for dear life. The monk shook her foot in the air, but it would not let go. She felt it dangling, like a stubborn and painful splinter just under the skin. She had to bend down and pluck it with gentle fingers; when she raised them to her eyes, she saw the dwarf struggling in her grasp, with a tuft of black fur in his yellow teeth.
“Put me down, ye giant lummox!” he screamed and spat at the top of his lungs, “I’ll bite yer bloody toes off an’ stuff ‘em up yer nose!”
“How rude,” Jian’s voice boomed in his ears as she brought him before her great blue eyes. “I was going to leave you there and then let you go when I got bored of you, buuut I guess the bottom of my paw is just too good for you.” Her fist crumpled around his body, muffling the curses, the swears, and the insults that fell on deaf ears as she leaned over, and stuffed him at the top of a nearby tree. She watched its green leaves shudder and fall around him as he clung to the highest branch, completely scared out of his mind. “I hope you like heights!”
Lihua nodded her head, wholly satisfied with the outcome. “That was the last of them! I…”
An inhuman shriek, animal in its fury, cut her off. Jian, Lihua, and even the dwarf winced and covered their ears, and then looked down to see the little bald gnome flying towards the monk in a maddened, frenzied dash.
“Oh, no,” the dwarf groaned, “now ye gone and upset him!”
Jian snorted and rolled her eyes, bent down low to the ground, and flicked the little gnome away with a finger, sent him screaming through the trees, and into the distant pond. His otherworldly howling ended with a splash, a bubbly gurgle, and then a collective sigh of relief from everyone involved.
Now it was finally over.

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The sound of cheers and celebration filled the cobblestone roads of Elwynn Forest a week after that fateful day. Many had come from far and wide to see the restaurant at the end of the worn dirt path, far more than she had anticipated. Were you to ask her, or any another traveler, about why so many had come this day, they will tell you that they heard a rumor: that the grand re-opening of Lihua’s restaurant and inn was at hand.
So many people had come to see the occasion that she had run out of room to fit them all inside her restaurant; the inn upstairs was booked solid for months. She and her workers were in a frenzy preparing the greatest banquet they had to offer – all manner of hearty stews and plump dumplings were made, filled to the brim with the finest meats and greens; marinated ribs; sweet bean cakes and rice cakes and cakes of human make; roast fowl and baked fowl; and shrimp and crabs, and noodles and far too many others to remember – and all the tea and Stormstout brew they can drink. Even the Lion’s Pride Inn pitched in, and lent their chairs and tables and workers for the grand day, grateful to be rid of the bandits that had harassed their patrons for so long. Even the wrongdoers themselves, who just a week earlier trashed her business, turned a new leaf and offered to help set things right.
When the time had finally come, Lihua was speechless. She did not know what to say to all those that had helped her reach this moment, when she stood before their hopeful, happy faces. And when they looked to her, she looked up to Jian, who sat next to the inn and nodded back.
“I…” Lihua began, looking back at them, sniffing hard as she fought back tears of joy. “I am not one for speeches. I never was. So all I can say to everyone is… let’s eat!”
Her words were met with roar of cheers and applause, before everyone settled in to eat. She had never seen so many people fumble with chopsticks in all her life.
When she finally had a moment to herself, she wandered over to Jian, and leaned into the giant pandaren’s paw, utterly exhausted. “I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done!” Lihua said to Jian, hugging her padded sole as hard as she could. “This day could not have happened without you.”
“I’m a pandaren of my word,” replied the monk, clenching her fuzzy black toes around Lihua as gently as she could. She reached down for her bowl – a huge pot of dumplings – and set it on her lap. A hand dug in and pulled out a sticky pile of dough, all of it dripping with steam and grease and bursting with meat. She popped it into her mouth, and her lips and tongue danced with the flavor exploding in her mouth. They were the best dumplings she ever had.
“You know,” Jian began, munching on her dumplings thoughtfully. “I’ll be sad to leave this forest behind. It’s not in my nature to stay in one place for too long.”
Lihua pulled away from her paw, looking crestfallen. “Oh. You… will come back someday? To visit?”
The monk picked up the pot in her hands and grinned wide. “As long as the food tastes as great as it does today, I might be back sooner than you think.”
The smell of herbs and spices were carried through the air as the festivities went on through the evening and carried into the night, hooking the part of the brain that calls to people’s stomachs and sense of curiosity. The sizzling of meat, the pop of fat and grease on open fire brought more late comers to the celebration, and they were welcome to join the growing chorus of dishes, chatter, and laughter that carried them all to dawn.
And all are welcome, so long as they are hungry and happy.