It was only three days before the opera house opened for the season. Spring had begun to wane before most people knew it. The two masters of the Jade Palace thought it prudent to start the journey early. Two days to make the journey itself, and one more day until the opening to use at the students' discretion. Evidently, the Emperor thought in much the same way, with a carriage and team of helpers coming to assist the residents of the Jade Palace in the long trip.

The sun shone down in bright beams, at times glaring down into the eyes of people walking by. The masters and students all shared one large carriage, pulled by a pair of oxen brothers, and managed by a loose collection of pigs, rabbits, and geese to carry all of the other belongings that could not fit.

Outside of the carriage, yellow-green fields of open country stretched endlessly, ringed by blue mountains. The only scar that this landscape held was the one that was paved. The noises of various insects could be heard buzzing and chirping about in their busiest time of the year.

"Oh yeah," Mantis yelled into the cacophony. "Say that again you tiny grasshopper! I'll mandible your face so hard that you'll be seeing in 720 degrees!"

Tigress rolled her eyes.

"Mantis, you know he didn't mean it," Viper tried to soothe. "It's just swarming season for them, you know how they get."

Mantis shot her a quick glance. "Oh I know how they get alright," he said shortly. "They get rude!" He wasted no further time in description, instead returning his attention back to the windows, where he continued to hurl insult and obscenities to the offending locusts.

Tigress had to hid a chuckle as Monkey mouthed the word 'hypocrite' to her while pointing at the angry green bug.

Feeling the need for a distraction from Mantis' foul mood, she turned to Shifu. "Master, are you sure we need the porters? I'm almost certain that we can do just as well carrying our stuff ourselves."

Shifu hummed in thought. "Now that is an idea-"

"That you should not be giving serious thought," Oogway gently cut him off. "The Emperor was quite generous in sending us help. I would think it would be rude not to accept, wouldn't it?"

Tigress took a moment to eye the unfortunate soul currently carrying what appeared to be Viper's entire wardrobe. "I suppose so," she said after a moment. She winced as the pig collapsed under the combined weight of Viper's collection.

***

Meanwhile, back in the Valley of Peace, a certain chef was hard at work preparing his latest batch of dough. Humming to himself, Mr. Ping kneaded and spread the soft mushy foodstuff.

"Po!" he called. "The breakfast crowd is almost here! It's time to get up!"

Upstairs, Po jolted mid-snore, instinctually woken by his dad's voice. "What's a nacho?" he asked himself, only half-awake and still remembering his dreams. He was pushed into full alertness when his dad repeated "Po!"

"Coming!" he called, literally rolling out of bed. After the thump of his mass hitting the floor and the mad scramble of finding pants, he rushed down the stairs step after step after head. Predictably, as it had almost always happened early in the morning, he rolled down the last flight.

"Hmm, you made it past the second floor that time," Mr. Ping idly commented.

Po picked himself up to near-full height and made his way to the kitchen. "Sorry I'm late," he said.

"Luckily, you're not late yet," Mr. Ping said. "Now help chop those vegetables." Po busied himself as Mr. Ping continued stretching out the dough. "I heard you making some odd noises last night. Was it a dream?"

Po nodded. "Yeah. A really weird one too. I think I was in this, like, fighting competition? Except it wasn't Kung Fu, it was more like. . . aggressive grappling. I had a mask and a cape too. There was also this really raggedy skinny guy who was my sidekick. You ever have dreams like that?"

Mr. Ping hummed in thought for a moment. "Well, there is one where I'm an all-powerful sorcerer cursed to never touch the mortal realm, and willing to sacrifice anything to achieve solid form once again."

Po spared his dad a concerned glance.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Mr. Ping said.

They were saved further discussion on the importance and significance of dreams by a rabbit wearing glasses calling from the archway. "Delivery for a Mr. Ping?"

Mr. Ping set aside his now stringy dough and turned to the deliveryman. "Ah, that would be me."

The rabbit dropped the box directly on the counter, and left after gaining Mr. Ping's signature. Po eyed the package carefully. "This. . . wouldn't happen to be about a certain red panda we know, right?"

Mr. Ping scoffed. "Oh, no, nothing that would humiliate that spiteful little raccoon. This is just for the business." He undid the top of the box, taking out a stack of papers. "Here," he said, handing one of them to his son.

Po inspected what he now realized was a poster. On it was a stylized representation of a goose proudly holding a bowl of noodles victoriously above his head. Directly across from him was a mahjong table and a red panda that could only be assumed to be the loser of this specific match. Po read aloud. "Ping Dynasty Noodle House's Grand Mahjong Tourney. Come and play your way through the brackets to face the owner of the Ping Dynasty Noodle House. Free meal for the winner. No purchase necessary, children must ask parents before registering." Po blinked. "Huh."

"Pretty good deal, right?" Mr. Ping asked. "We hold an event like this, and people will come to this place from all over."

Po felt himself nodding. "Makes sense. And you totally didn't use the Jade Palace's master's likeness for this, right? This isn't, like, a secret challenge to Shifu so you can school him in mahjong, right?"

"Of course not," Mr. Ping said. "That is a legally distinct, entirely fictitious rodent who's currently having his dreams crushed. Complete coincidence. Any resemblance to that hateful old man is entirely on accident."

'Oh sure," Po said, neither confirming nor denying his father's poorly disguised challenge. 

Mr. Ping then handed the box to Po, along with a bucket of glue and paint. "I need you to spread these over the valley. Make sure you put them in places where people will see them. The more crowded, the better."

Po took the items, carefully trying to balance the box in one hand while the bucket was held in the other. He hurried to move out of the door, bumping his forehead squarely on its top rim. 

After a wince shared between the Pings, Po ducked under the rim and made his way out into the open streets.

Mr. Ping looked up at the rafters of his shop. "Hmmm. I should get higher roofs."

***

"Look at this, Bian Zao," Toatie said, gesturing to a freshly glued poster. It stood right next the wanted poster depicting a masked figure in black with a large sword, and a missing persons notice regarding a large bison with an arrow patterned on his fur. "Free meals for the winner! What do you think? We could save a lot of our budget if we can cut meals out of it." It went without saying that their budget wasn't much to begin with, and that an already disproportionate amount of it went to mechanical parts.

Bian Zao carefully looked over the poster, humming in thought. Taotie observed his son turn the prospect over in his head. For the briefest moments, Taotie dared to get his hopes up. Would this be it? Would this finally be the day that his son showed the slightest interest in something? Would this finally be the moment where Bian Zao admitted something other than complete boredom? After years, would this be the day that Bian Zao finally, finally, developed a hobby?

Bian Zao drew a breath as he finished his rumination, while Taotie held his. His son stared him directly in the eyes. After a near eternity, he finally spoke. ". . . Lame."

***

The summer sun burned down still, even past what would be considered afternoon in the winter. The effect of this was a tiring, humid afternoon. The porters and drivers had taken to singing of their loves in order to pass the time. Some of the lyrics Tigress found charming in an innocent, earnest way. Some were clearly the product of tired minds struggling to put words together. Most, however, were bawdy, ribald, and severely testing Tigress' self control. Not helping matters was the cramped, still space the carriage interior had become.

Mantis, having yelled his lungs past their maximum capacity, passed out several hours ago. Oogway had followed his example not too long after, peacefully closing his eyes while retreating into his shell. Viper curled up next, dooming Tigress to immobility as she used her friend as a heated pad.

Crane, Tigress Knew, had also elected to nap, but had been able to retreat to the top of the carriage to do so. Tigress envied him more than anything else right then. Tigress felt like she knew what going stir-crazy was like. After the month she had to spend coalescing from the cut, she had felt herself a near expert on the subject. She would have written a dissertation on it if it would have given her something to do.

This however, was something else entirely. Her knees felt stiff and cramped from sitting so long, her tail was sore from the pinch of the seats. Her paws resolutely by her sides, she had to slide and sheath her claws just so that they could feel the slightest exercise.

Monkey hid a chuckle behind his fist at her predicament. "You know you could just move her off of you, right?" he stage-whispered to her.

Tigress's gaze slid back down to the mass of green coils in her lap. "No I can't," she answered bluntly.

Monkey shrugged, still amused, before he turned to Shifu.

Shifu was currently sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, and mind presumably turned to the mysteries of Inner Peace.

"Are we there yet?" Monkey asked.

Tigress shot him a murderous glance as Shifu gave a weary sigh.

"No," Shifu said, not opening his eyes.

Monkey shot her a glance. Tigress shook her head.

"How about now? Are we there yet?"

Shifu drew a deep breath. "No, we are not there yet."

Monkey waited. More accurately, he waited five minutes before again yet again, "Are we there yet."

Shifu finally opened his eyes to glare at Monkey. "No. And the next time someone asks, they're getting out and walking for the rest of the day.

Monkey shot Tigress a daring, conspiratorial glance. Normally she would have stopped Monkey before he went to far, especially when he tried to rope her into his antics. Today, however, with stiff joints and aching bones, she could have hugged him.

Tigress halted at her own thoughts. Was she really about to go along with Monkey's antics just to have a socially acceptable excuse to walk out of the carriage? She felt Viper readjust her length and settle deeper into sleep.

Tigress drew in a breath.

Suddenly, the carriage jerked sharply upward, drawing a mix of yelps and a squawk from the students and masters using it. Tigress' eyes shot wide as she clawed for support.

"Sorry about that," one of the oxen brothers called. "Pothole," the other said by way of explanation.

There was a collection of grumbles as everybody settled once again, those who had been asleep suddenly awoken.

In the handful of moments it took Tigress to come out of fight-or-flight instincts, it was too late, Viper had once again started to curl up. She silently pleaded with her non-existent ancestors and kung fu masters since passed to please, please not let her friend fall asleep on her lap again. A single deep breath from the snake sealed her fate.

Tigress nearly despaired before she remembered. Monkey's prodding was still fresh. She still had a chance to get kicked out and do something.

Oogway's head stretched out of his shell as he slowly blinked. "Are we there yet?" he asked sleepily.

Shifu's cry of deep frustration matched the sound in Tigress's heart.