Chapter 5
Chapter 5
At the small dining table, Kakayan rested her cheek in her hand and narrowed her eyes, watching Jiang Li slurp up the last strands of instant noodles.
Obedient and adorable—that was the mask she wore now.
As the saying goes, under someone else's roof you have to bow your head.
Right now Kakayan had no magic left, so every ounce of power and every trick she knew had vanished. She was small, pitiful, and helpless. One moment she'd been minding her own business; the next she'd been dumped in this bizarre place with only a handful of potion vials in her pockets. If she made one wrong move, Jiang Li would probably beat her black and blue. Better to play it safe.
At least for the moment, Jiang Li was in a good mood and still feeding her. If she annoyed him, his beastly side might surface and he'd lock her up as his slave. Humans and witches could produce offspring together, and the child would almost certainly inherit witch blood. If the baby happened to be male, his magical aptitude would far outstrip an ordinary person's. That was why some powerful noble houses on the continent of Aze schemed to curry favor with witches—terrified of them, yet enticed by the enormous benefits. Humans were walking contradictions.
Kakayan knew she was beautiful, and among witches she was still considered very young. Plenty of people coveted her. If a Hero's blood merged with witch genes, their child could grow up to dominate the continent.
But she had never even been in love. She refused to become an unwed mother. If she ever had children, she'd want at least a century of romance first!
Beside her, Jiang Li lifted the cardboard cup to his lips to drink the last of the broth. He sensed Kakayan's strange stare and wondered what outrageous thoughts were churning behind those bright eyes. He had no proof, though—probably just his imagination.
The table was spacious enough when he ate alone; with Kakayan wedged beside him it suddenly felt cramped. Worse, having someone watch him eat with such hungry eyes made the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Stop looking. There's nothing left," he said, cutting off any hope of sharing more noodles. "If you want more, pay up."
"Pay..." Kakayan brushed her bare earlobes, feeling aggrieved. One ruby for two meals—what a lousy deal.
Still, the food Jiang Li served was delicious. She'd never imagined that the Hero who wandered the continent lived on such refined fare. Did being a Hero pay that well?
And the utensils he used were unlike anything she'd seen.
"What are those two sticks in your hand?" Her attention shifted to Jiang Li's chopsticks. With a simple pinch they lifted the noodles—utterly fascinating. She had never witnessed such tableware. Her mouth parted slightly, eyes wide with curiosity.
In this other world people used spoons and forks; chopsticks were unheard of. These two slim sticks, born of the wisdom of Huaguo, had Kakayan completely bewildered. You could eat with sticks?
For some reason Jiang Li felt a tug of nostalgia watching her expression—he'd worn the same look the first time he saw an adult use chopsticks. Switching from spoon to chopsticks had felt like a rite of passage.
He lifted the chopsticks and clicked them in the air. "These are chopsticks. Smart people eat with them."
"Smart people use chopsticks..." Kakayan tilted her head, watched Jiang Li deftly snare noodles, then glanced at the lonely fork in her bowl. After a moment's thought, she set her jaw. No matter how you looked at it, chopsticks seemed trickier than a fork—and they could grab more food. Could they really be the tool of the clever?
"I want to use chopsticks too!" She slapped the table and stood. If Jiang Li could do it, so could she.
"Oh? Want a lesson?" Jiang Li didn't mind teaching; every Huaguo native considered it a duty.
When Kakayan reached to snatch the chopsticks from his hand, he merely pointed toward the kitchen. "There's a bunch in the drawer. Help yourself."
Kakayan spun on her heel and marched into the kitchen. Her eyes swept the room, locking onto a small open box hanging on the wall—rectangular, crammed with chopsticks. She grabbed a huge fistful and returned triumphantly.
"What are you, staging a rebellion?" Jiang Li's vision darkened. He snatched most of them back, returning all but two. The last time he'd seen someone clutch that many chopsticks was in school, during a demonstration about strength in numbers.
"Hold them like this."
"Like this?" Mimicking Jiang Li's earlier demonstration, Kakayan pinched the chopsticks—awkwardly. She stood hunched over the table, as though standing too straight would send the sticks flying.
"Try to pick up some noodles."
Jiang Li had finished eating; only a few limp strands floated in the broth—perfect practice fodder. He pushed the cup toward Kakayan.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared intently. Then she stabbed. And stabbed again. She'd copied the grip, but not the technique. After much effort she managed to coat the chopstick tips in soup, but captured nothing.
Jiang Li kept silent, enjoying the show. As after-dinner entertainment this beat scrolling short videos—at least those were usually staged. This was genuine, first-rate foolishness.
After several failed attempts Kakayan frowned, doubt creeping in. Am I really this stupid? Knives and forks had come naturally—why not chopsticks? And these scraps were tiny; could they even be grasped? Maybe Jiang Li was making fun of her...
She shot him a suspicious glance. Jiang Li lounged back, lips curved in amusement—the same expression she'd worn while watching ordinary humans fumble with basic spells. Translation: Is that all you've got?—Git gud, scrub.
Witch curses!
The moment she read that look, her composure cracked. In her entire life she had never suffered such humiliation.
"It's too dark to see," she muttered, face darkening as she laid the chopsticks flat and pretended indifference.
Evening had fallen, and the room was dim.
Normally, candles would already be lit throughout the castle at this hour.
Apparently, Jiang Li's household didn't have a single one.
Perfect, Kakayan thought. She'd picked an airtight excuse.
The next second, a crisp click rang out.
Light flooded the room in an instant.