Number One met Number Two.
The moment their squinty sunken eyes locked, time stood still.
Both stared at each other as if they’d just glimpsed an alternate version of themselves from a parallel dumpling dimension.
"You... your name’s Fatty Kui?" Number One asked.
"Y-yeah," Number Two stammered. "Your name’s Fatty Kui?"
Number One’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Han Yu... explain."
Han Yu slowly backed away with a guilty smile. "Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions."
"You said I was your Fatty Kui!" Number One pointed an accusing finger.
"You never mentioned a second Fatty Kui," Number Two added with betrayal in his voice.
"I didn’t name either of you!" Han Yu protested. "You were both already called that!"
"But I was the original!" Number One huffed.
"I’ve known Brother Han Yu since he scrubbed latrines!" Number Two retorted.
"I shared my steamed buns with him during winter!"
"I gave him my blanket when he had a cold!"
"I once defended his honor against a chicken!"
"That chicken bit me!"
"Enough!" Han Yu yelled, holding up both hands. "You’re both my Fatty Kuis, alright? Fatty Kui Number One from the town, and Fatty Kui Number Two from the servant quarters. You’re both equally—equally—well... fat."
The two Kui’s glared at each other for a beat.
Then, slowly, cautiously, they nodded.
Number One stepped forward. "...You like steamed buns?"
Number Two blinked. "Only if they’re pork-filled."
Number One grinned. "Brother."
And just like that, an alliance was forged in spiritual pork and shared betrayal.
Han Yu sighed in relief. "Thank the heavens. For a moment I thought I was going to be eaten."
Now that peace had been restored—at least temporarily—Han Yu found himself sandwiched between his two loyal rotund companions under the peach blossom tree.
Fatty Kui Number One brought out a snack pouch. "Brother Han Yu, try this! It’s a spirit-infused glutinous rice cake. My elder gave me some after I broke through."
Fatty Kui Number Two blinked. "That’s just rice with more rice in it."
"It’s enhanced rice," Number One sniffed.
"Well, I brought pickled Fire peppers. Grown by the outer sect’s punishment garden."
Han Yu looked between the two with a pained expression. "Why does everything you two bring either make me fatter or burst into flames?"
"Because that’s how we show love," they said in perfect unison.
Han Yu bit the rice cake. It was... aggressively sticky. As he tried to pry it off his teeth, Fatty Kui Number Two pulled out the Fire peppers and waved one toward Number One.
"Care to try a brotherly challenge?"
Fatty Kui Number One puffed up. "You’re on!"
Han Yu’s mouth was still glued shut when the two fatties each shoved a pepper into their mouths.
Then steam started rising from both their heads like dumplings in a bamboo steamer.
They flailed and rolled around the courtyard, steam and snot and tears everywhere, knocking over a medicinal herb pot in the process.
Han Yu finally unstuck his jaw, just in time to watch Number One dive headfirst into a koi pond while Number Two began licking a rock as if it were a popsicle.
Han Yu cackled so hard he nearly coughed out his soul. "You two idiots are gonna get me kicked out!"
The chaos, of course, drew attention.
A passing junior disciple came over, wide-eyed. "W-what is going on here?"
Han Yu stood up, straightened his robe, and bowed solemnly. "We are... testing the body’s resistance to spiritual capsaicin."
The junior blinked. "Is that... an actual cultivation method?"
Han Yu didn’t even blink. "In ancient times, the Fiery Flame Sect practiced with ghost peppers to temper the tongue and... internal meridians."
The disciple looked impressed. "Amazing... I must record this!"
As the disciple ran off to inform someone much more important, Han Yu groaned and pulled the two sputtering Kuis behind a bush.
"Okay, new rule. No more spicy challenges. No more ’spirit snacks.’ And no more public rolling."
Fatty Kui Number One coughed. "But... but that was bonding..."
Fatty Kui Number Two wheezed. "Brotherhood through peppers...!"
"You bonded through collective trauma," Han Yu snapped. "Which is how I became friends with Senior Sister Xu Qing, and believe me, that’s not the ideal path!"
Still, despite all the yelling, Han Yu was smiling. There was something comforting about being around both Fatty Kuis. It brought back the chaos of his early days—when he was a servant with nothing but an empty stomach and too much attitude.
Now, though, he had real cultivation, strange soul energy, a growing reputation... and two round-headed mischief magnets in his orbit.
As the sun dipped over the horizon the next day, the three of them sat together under the peach blossoms again, cheeks sore from laughter, lips still tingling from ghost peppers, and hearts oddly full.
"Maybe life’s not so bad."
Then Number One burped, and the tree behind them caught fire.
"DID YOU EAT FIRE SPIRIT HERBS?!" Han Yu screamed as he dove for the water bucket.
Number Two blinked innocently. "I might have pickled the peppers in Flame Vine vinegar."
"YOU ABSURD BALLS OF BLUBBER!"
Thus continued the legend of Han Yu and the Two Fatty Kuis—an unstoppable trio of chaos, spicy snacks, and ever-increasing disciplinary reports.
After the fire on the peach blossom tree had been extinguished (and Han Yu swore up and down to the passing patrol disciples that it was merely "an advanced flame-resistance drill"), the trio huddled behind a stone pavilion. Fatty Kui Number One looked a little sheepish, but his round cheeks held an uncharacteristically serious expression.
"Brother Han Yu, Brother Kui... I actually came today not just to share food or test our stomach lining," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I, uh... brought something for you."
Fatty Kui Number Two blinked and looked around. "For Han Yu?"
Fatty Kui Number Two blinked again. "Me?" The man couldn’t believe it.