Title: "The Return of the Red-Headed Rogue"

Sunlight seeped through the iron bars, and the morning air slightly cleansed the musty odor that had settled in the prison overnight. The damp air brought more moisture to the cell walls, already covered in patches of moss. Despite the lack of strong sunlight, the moss thrived.

The morning in the prison was always filled with noise. Prisoners, restless from a day of sleep, banged on the iron bars. The guards, long accustomed to such commotion, mostly ignored it. A few, more alert than the others, shouted at the loudest inmates and banged their batons against the bars, but the rest carried on with their conversations.

The night-shift guards waited for their replacements, not bothering to engage with the prisoners. One by one, prisoners with minor chores were called out. The guards shackled them lightly and put them to work. These were the less dangerous, more easily controlled inmates, many of whom were not yet adults. They were the youngest in the prison, just old enough to be locked up.

In the most remote and gloomy cell of the prison, Fa Yinge, the only inmate still asleep, lay undisturbed. He had no interest in the prison's gruel-like meals, and today was the day of his release. Fa Yinge, with his fiery red hair, was the only minor not assigned to do menial labor.

"Clang, clang, clang!" The guard hammered on the iron bars of Fa Yinge's cell, creating a deafening noise.

"Hey, kid, wake up. Gather your things, you're getting out," the guard said as he unlocked the cell door.

"See you around, kid," a filthy prisoner called out.

"Don't take my bed next time I'm in," Fa Yinge replied.

"Hey, don't forget to bring me a blanket next time," another old prisoner shouted.

"Sure, if you pay me for it first."

"Cheapskate."

As Fa Yinge continued to banter with the prisoners, the guard grew impatient. He prodded Fa Yinge's shoulder with his baton, urging, "Hurry up! You'll be back in a few months anyway; save the talk for then."

Fa Yinge left his blanket and bedroll for the other inmates and stepped out of the cell. As he walked through the corridor, prisoners in neighboring cells greeted him.

"See you next time."

"How long until you're back?"

"Take a message home for me…"

"Hurry back."

The guard, fed up with the noise, was disgusted by these long-time inmates, whom he considered the scum of the earth. He jabbed Fa Yinge with the baton again, muttering, "Get moving, get moving."

In the warden's office, the warden glanced at Fa Yinge—a familiar face who treated the prison like a hotel, coming and going frequently. The warden saw no point in small talk and swiftly signed Fa Yinge's release papers.

"You can go, but I know you'll be back soon enough, won't you?" the warden remarked offhandedly.

"Yep, yep. I just hope the food's a bit better next time," Fa Yinge replied with a grin.

The warden didn't find this amusing. He turned to the guard and ordered, "Get him out of here."

Following the warden's command, the guard immediately kicked Fa Yinge out of the prison gates. The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him with a loud clang. Fa Yinge shrugged, dusted himself off, and headed straight for the city center.

Fa Yinge knew every street in the city like the back of his hand, but he wasn't in a hurry to return to his hideout.

He wandered through the streets, eventually turning into a clothing shop at the southern end. The shop was empty, and Fa Yinge rang the bell on the counter. The chime summoned the shopkeeper from a small door behind the counter. Upon seeing Fa Yinge, the shopkeeper smiled, "Ah, you're out! I almost forgot today was your release day."

"Give me a new set of clothes, and let the old man know I'm out. I'm going for a walk," Fa Yinge said.

"Oh, just your luck. I don't have anything in your size right now, but there's one set that's a bit big. You can make do with that," the shopkeeper replied, disappearing behind the small door again. He soon returned with a set of clothes that were about seventy percent new.

"Not bad, not bad. It'll do," Fa Yinge nodded. He took the clothes and quickly changed in the fitting room.

Dressed in his new outfit, Fa Yinge looked sharp. He walked through the streets, observing the people around him. Having spent three months in jail, he noticed that everyone had shed their heavy winter coats in favor of lighter spring attire.

"Fa Yinge, is that you?" a voice called out from behind. Fa Yinge turned to see Quick-Hand Jen, a lackey of South Street Berta.

"Three months away, huh?" Jen grinned.

"Yep, almost forgot the way back," Fa Yinge replied, grateful for the update on the current situation.

"Oh, there's a new shop in the south of the city. I hear they've got nice stuff—silks, leather goods," Jen informed him.

"Thanks, I'll check it out."

"Have fun."

With this new information, Fa Yinge headed for the southern part of the city. He knew the city like the back of his hand, just as most shopkeepers knew who he was. It didn't take long for him to locate the new store.

The shopkeeper of the new store didn't recognize him, but two of the assistants were locals. Fa Yinge knew he had to act quickly before they spotted him. The store sold luxury items like perfumes and jewelry, and as Jen had mentioned, the customers were wealthy, draped in silk or expensive furs.

Their carriages were parked outside the store, with servants in attendance, making it difficult to strike. But this didn't faze Fa Yinge. He slipped into the store unnoticed and took a quick look around. By the time he left, two money pouches were already tucked into his pocket.

Satisfied with his haul, Fa Yinge ducked into a nearby alley. After making sure no one was around, he pulled out the pouches and counted his day's earnings. As for the empty pouches, Fa Yinge had no intention of keeping them. He casually tossed them into the alley.

Patting his full pockets with satisfaction, Fa Yinge headed back to his hideout. As soon as he stepped into the alley leading to his lair, he was immediately noticed.

"Fa Yinge, is that really you?"

"Welcome back."

"Jen said you were back, but I didn't believe him…"

"How did you do today? Jen said you went to the south side."

In response, Fa Yinge smacked his pocket, the crisp clink of coins making the most convincing statement.

"Nice, first day back and you're already raking it in."

"You've still got it, Fa Yinge."

Amid the clamor, Fa Yinge was welcomed back to his hideout.