In the midst of it

 "Just what have we got ourselves into?" ChaCha wasn't sure what they should do next. Was the man a woman? A man in disguise? Oh, she was having second thoughts about Chinese Operas. She gritted her teeth. 

Of course, Milo put his finger to her lips and told her to just wait.

They would let War go in first. See if he could figure what she was up to.

"Do you see something you like?" Of course, she sounded like a real lady of the establishment. She knew the degrees of skin tones and what sort of lippy was in season. "Perhaps you have a sweetheart," she smiled.

Of course, War smiled back and that's when he sprung out the fan as if it was rather warm in the place. And she did the same as if they could play. And they did.

Snap, snap, snap. Like a dance that quickened by the displays and almost through the curtains. Before Milo and ChaCha could figure out the next step,  War and the woman were in mid air in this little trist of play.

"What has gotten into him?" ChaCha was stunned.

"Hopefully, not love." Milo remained even-lipped.

"I swear, he's met his match-"

"Or, he's letting her win," Milo spoke up as he leaned toward ChaCha with a yawn. She only nodded as she watched. 

Finally, their fans were stuck. It was a bit of a tug of war. Milo and ChaCha settled to the floor and came through the curtains.

"Haven't you two had enough of this?" He asked looking up at them.

"Have we?" War asked.

The woman looked down at Milo and dropped to the floor ever so elegantly.

"I was expecting you, not the horse," she looked at him.

"I wasn't expecting anything," Milo told her. "What do you want?"

"Your help of course," she told him.

"Really?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as if he didn't quite believe her.

"Don't go to the Beggar's Sect," she told him. "It's not what it seems."

Milo grimaced as if that was not the news he wanted to hear. 

"Are you a friend or a foe?" ChaCha wanted to know. She hugged herself, wondering if there was anything easy these days in this world.