"I have already said it; I have expressed my attitude completely. I don't want adventures, and the Shire doesn't need them, at least not today," Baggins said in a firm tone. "You can try across the mountain, or the other side of the lake."
"Are you sure you won't come with me on an adventure?" asked Gandalf.
"Of course." Baggins said it with absolute certainty.
"Then I'll come back and try my luck later." With that, Gandalf turned around, cast one last glance at An Yang, and walked out carrying his staff.
The Hobbit stood where he was, his mouth hanging open in a daze, and he only snapped back to his senses when he saw Gandalf turn around and close the door. He looked at An Yang, who was still standing in the room, and asked, "You... aren't you going with him?"
"No, I'll just wait for them here."
"Them? I heard you two talking just now—did you say there are thirteen other people?" Baggins asked in alarm.
"Mhm."
"Oh! Good heavens!" Baggins exclaimed, suddenly glancing toward the door and frowning. "Did you hear that sound? It sounds like something scratching at the door..."
"Never mind that. Aren't you curious about who he is?" An Yang glanced at the door and ignored him.
"Who? That fellow just now? Right, I almost forgot—it's like he knows me, or knows my mother!"
"Yes, his name is Gandalf."
"Gandalf? The wandering wizard Gandalf who makes those wonderful fireworks?" Baggins seemed to finally remember, his face full of surprise. "Old Took used to let off his fireworks every Midsummer's Eve!"
"..." An Yang pursed his lips and asked, "Is that all you remember?"
"What else is there?"
"He's also a good friend of your mother's. When you were little, he often watched you