Redhd — Turning

Mei tucked the drumstick into her flute case. "Well, you know what they say, Mom. Change is messy, but sometimes it sounds like a boy band."

Mei’s mother, Ming, stood beside her, looking regal in her own shimmering emerald panda form. "Meimei, remember," Ming grumbled, her voice a low rumble that vibrated the pavement. "We are here to maintain order, not to 'bust a move' in the front row." Turning RedHD

From the shadows emerged the ghost of a Sun Yee ancestor who hadn't quite let go of the limelight. The spirit began draining the energy from the crowd to fuel its own ghostly performance. "Crisis management!" Mei yelled. Mei tucked the drumstick into her flute case