Spring turns to autumn, and time's footsteps never cease. Although dwarves live much longer than humans, this doesn't stop them from feeling sad about the rapid passage of time.

Even though the force of years hasn't left noticeable traces on Moni's face, it has made his heart gradually age. For reasons unknown, he begins to feel like he's lost a lot of vitality, like a rusty machine with only a few drops of oil—even though it can still turn, it creaks and groans without any smoothness. He once believed he would devote his entire life to fulfilling the dream of being an inventor, creating things named "Moni's Creations" with his own hands, but now it feels beyond his strength.

Lately, especially, his longing for his nephew—his only relative, Nimo—has made it impossible for him to concentrate on his work. He often wakes in the morning, sits at his workbench after a simple wash, holding a semi-finished component. "This is a tool Nimo once used," he thinks. Every object stirs some memory, and nothing can stop the most basic emotions of a living being. He might sit on that polished, blackened rosewood chair, lost in thought, until his stomach growls with hunger.

So, "Mage and Mithril" tavern became his next stop.

This tavern is only three years old, but its owner is already three hundred. Old Moni likes to come here, ordering a cup of mushroom mead, quietly reminiscing by the warm, bright fireplace.

Two little dogs came running the moment he pushed open the door, clinging to his pant legs. Moni didn't bring any food today, so he could only regretfully pat their heads. These were the tavern owner Xibao's other two treasures, also just three years old, very intelligent, and greatly loved by the patrons. It seems they've also learned to make a little money from guests to improve their already good meals.

Moni chose the warmest spot to sit; this damn winter's chill didn't spare even the dwarves living underground, almost sending down snowflakes. He ordered something to quickly replenish his energy, and then had a chat with Xibao while holding his mead.

"I say, you should find a companion too," the tavern owner said, his big belly shaking happily. "Moni, this isn't the way to keep going."

"I'm not in the mood for that right now," old Moni said, taking a hard swig.

"You should," Xibao didn't seem to let old Moni's thoughts escape. "How about Karami from the village? She's very kind and has the abilities of a priest."

"Yes, she predicted this winter would be mild and a bountiful year. But if you ask her now what the snowflakes say, she'll just glare at you and stomp off," Moni said. "But she is indeed a good dwarf."

"Yes, so what are you dissatisfied with?" Xibao chuckled. "If you don't mind, I can help you ask her."

"Let's talk about it later... later..." Moni swallowed a big spoonful of mashed potatoes, chewing slowly. "Your cooking is getting better and better. What's in this?"

"It's a secret," Xibao thought the previous topic was good, still not letting go. "Moni, listen to me. It's been a long time since there was any excitement here, and I think a wedding is a good idea. If this wedding were held in my tavern, it would be the best idea. Old friend, you can't frown all the time. Although Nimo is a good child and will certainly become a great dwarf, you should have your own family, right?"

"If you can get those inexplicable clowns to leave, I'll get married," Moni waved his fork, chicken flying off it. The tavern owner's dogs came slinking from the corner, splitting the extra meal. "Isn't it their fault it's so dull here?"

Speaking of the new guests in Dwarf City, Moni was full of anger. Those humans appeared from nowhere, hoping to stay here temporarily to avoid the dangers of the Underdark. The hospitable dwarves naturally agreed, for this group was a traveling performer troupe. They brought spectacular performances, enchanting the children's hearts; everyone liked them at the time. Especially since these people were indeed good-looking, both in dwarf and human eyes, they were quite outstanding.