The next several weeks passed slowly in the Mortal Realm, and Ruomei discovered that it was more difficult than she had hoped to put her plan into motion. In addition to Zhulin, she enlisted the help of the baker's kind wife, the fruit-seller's grandfather, and even a grudging Chenguang who agreed to cooperate after Zhulin had talked to her. Many of the villagers were indifferent to or even outright opposed to helping the street children, and it was a challenge to gather enough support to make any impact.

Their little group started by getting to know the children better, though even that was slow-going, as the children were suspicious and easily-frightened at first. Over time, the grandfather was able to win a few of them over by bribing them with sweets, and when the baker's wife began bringing spare buns, the rest of the children seemed to come to a consensus that these strangers who suddenly wanted to be friends could be trusted.

After that, it became a matter of deciding what to do with them.

"Shouldn't we find them all a home, first?" the baker's wife asked. They had gathered in one of the local taverns for their meeting, and she was fiddling with her teacup nervously.

"Some of them already have homes," Zhulin replied. He was standing over by a window, and nodded in the direction of a scrawny boy in a ragged outfit running by outside. Ruomei recognized the boy as the one she had almost caught pilfering from the fruit-seller's spilled goods, and realized with a pang of guilt that he was still missing his jacket. "The parents are just absent, drunk, or out-of-work, and the children are forced to roam the streets during the day."

"Maybe we could start by giving them new clothes, then?" Chenguang suggested, apparently having noticed the boy's missing jacket as well.

"And where would we get the new clothes?" the grandfather asked, a finger tapping on his cane. "We're barely able to clothe our own children!"

"Families could donate the old clothes," Ruomei suggested. "If we set up a donation table in the marketplace, we might be able to raise awareness about the children's need."

"But what about food?" the baker's wife said. "The children can't eat clothes. They'll still be hungry."

"What they need is a place where they are welcome," Zhulin said. He left the window and came over to sit by them. "Whether it is just for the day or for a longer period of time – a place where they can be fed, and clothed, and feel safe."

"If we teach them how to sew, I'm sure the tailor could take a few of them in as workers," the baker's wife said.

Ruomei winced. "Isn't there a way that they can still be children?" she asked.

Chenguang was tilting her chair back, and leaned forward so that it crashed down on all four legs again. "The problem with that," she said, "is that you can't make a profit to support housing, clothing, and feeding children, unless there is something that can be sold in return. Donations won't get very far in the long run."

"Why don't we split the time the children spend at the shelter?" the grandfather said. "Half the time, they can learn sewing, cooking, and other useful skills to support the shelter, and the rest of the time, they can be allowed to play."

Ruomei looked from the baker's wife, to Chenguang, and then to Zhulin, who nodded. "It's worth a try," he said.

"Then it's settled!" Ruomei announced. "That's what we'll focus on. Though – I think we could use a bit more help."

After much announcing, explaining, and pleading with the other villagers, they were able to recruit six more people to help in their efforts. Ruomei worked with the grandfather to set up a table for donations in the marketplace, Chenguang worked with the baker's wife to share the news about the new shelter, and Zhulin was able to identify a plot of land that, with some donated money from the villagers, they were able to purchase and work on remodeling the old house there into something fit for the children's needs.

Not everyone was happy with the shelter. The baker disliked his wife spending so much time away from home, the perfumer thought it was a waste of time, and the fruit-seller merely refused to hear talk of it whenever the topic of conversation was brought up. Occasionally, the grandfather would bring by the boy with the lost jacket to help out at the fruit stand, as a way to convince his grandson-in-law that the children meant no harm, but the fruit-seller refused to talk to the boy. Still, no one could deny that since Ruomei's little group had begun to work with the children, there were fewer robberies in the marketplace, and the children had even developed a respect for some of the villagers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hi everyone!  This is the only chapter I need to cut in half, for contest word-limit reasons, but I'll be able to post the next half Wednesday.  Please stay tuned and thanks for your patience!