Chapter 24
Chapter 24
"Export!"
Jiang Li pressed the key, and the first mukbang video starring Kakayan finished rendering on the coffee table in the living room.
The source material had been thin; it was also his first time shooting a real-person vlog, and he'd been short on experience. The camera moves, the banter with Kakayan—everything screamed amateur hour.
At first Jiang Li had planned to lift the formula from a couple of viral hits and mimic their editing style, but the moment he dropped in a trendy intro the whole thing felt off. In the end he went with his gut and cut a piece that wore its rookie charm like a badge of honor.
In the creator game, style isn't forged overnight. You ship steadily, watch the numbers rise and fall, and let your own voice evolve through the iterations. Blindly chasing every hot trend only flattens your brand until the audience forgets you.
Jiang Li ran the finished cut once more. It worked—mostly because Kakayan was unfairly photogenic, the kind of presence that made you keep watching. For a debut upload the completion level was already sky-high.
Next came subtitles, a thumbnail, and a title that could seduce the algorithm.
"Kakayan, come learn some characters."
Kakayan had been sprawled on the couch after lunch, chin in hand, lazily supervising his every click. At Jiang Li's call she unfolded herself and padded over.
Eat, nap, supervise—just like owning a cat.
He needed to subtitle the video anyway; this was the perfect chance to get her acquainted with the written language. Witches came into the world gifted with a universal tongue, able to speak to any race, but the blessing stopped at speech—reading and writing were another matter. In plain terms, she was illiterate.
Kakayan gave a soft hum and stretched languidly from one end of the couch to the other. Whatever Jiang Li asked, she always answered first and asked questions later.
"What's the point of learning characters?"
She dragged herself upright and slouched toward him. In her mind, spoken language was enough; she'd never needed another layer of symbols. Witches were living fossils on the continent of Aze. Any history weighty enough to be written down, they had personally lived through. Lost ancient spells, secret recipes, scraps of gossip—ask the next witch over and some ancient busybody would pipe up, "I remember."
To a witch, poring over dusty tomes was like wearing a belt and suspenders. They could summon half an encyclopedia just by hosting tea.
"Modern life is inconvenient without literacy," Jiang Li said.
"How inconvenient?"
"Like going out without clothes."
Kakayan instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. "Why? If I can't read, I can't wear clothes? That's twisted..."
Jiang Li scratched his cheek. He'd only meant to compare the importance of literacy to that of clothing; he hadn't expected her to take it literally.
"There's too much information to keep track of," he coughed, switching metaphors. "If you can't read, it's like walking in the dark."
"Oh..."
This time she understood. Thinking back, Jiang Li had been her guide during every recent outing—so was he her eyes? Or her clothes?
Kakayan shook the unsettling image away.
"Let's start the lesson."
She scooted next to Jiang Li and fixed her gaze on the glowing rectangle he called a "laptop." The last thing she wanted was to be left "blind and naked" if he ever vanished.
"I'll type the subtitles now. Listen to the audio and match the words to the characters."
Jiang Li nodded and let his fingers dance across the keyboard. Vlogs had no pre-written script, so he had to subtitle line by line.
Kakayan listened intently, violet eyes reflecting the screen's shimmer. Silence fell.
Maybe she was too quiet; Jiang Li glanced sideways. Instead of the usual ditziness, Kakayan looked almost solemn—beautifully so. Parted lips, cheeks like peeled hot-spring eggs, a pink strand of hair curling across her forehead with endearing precision. Aesthetic perfection, Jiang Li thought, marred only by a slight shortage of IQ.
...
Twenty minutes later the subtitles were done. He dropped the video and subtitle file into Little-Ball Toolbox to compress. The aging laptop roared like a jet engine.
From experience Jiang Li knew the next stretch was hands-off; the machine needed every ounce of its dying breath. Old hardware hated surprises.
He stood and stretched stiff muscles.
"How much of it stuck?"
Kakayan's blank stare told the story. She was just like his laptop—overloaded.
She blinked slowly. "I remember almost everything... just a couple of characters slipped my mind."
"Learning characters is a long—wait, you remember everything?"
"Not everything. A few are fuzzy."
Her eyelids drooped, weariness flickering across her face. Jiang Li rubbed his chin, wondering if the lesson had fried her circuits. Twenty minutes of colloquial text shouldn't have pushed anyone into delirium.
"I'll test you once the video's ready."
"Mm."
Kakayan nodded on reflex, then slumped against the sofa as though powering down to standby. Only the laptop's drone filled the living room.
After an eternity the compression bar hit one hundred percent. Jiang Li clicked the file open and muted the audio.
"Try reading what's on the screen."
Kakayan barely stirred. Her lips parted, then closed.
"Tired," she murmured, sinking deeper into the cushions and letting her eyes fall shut.
"If you won't read it, how will I know you can recognize the characters?" Jiang Li asked, puzzled.
"I don't need you to know."
Kakayan waved him off languidly.
?
Seeing the unmasked exhaustion on her face, Jiang Li grew even more curious. Normal grade-schoolers needed weeks of lessons; Kakayan had crammed in half a session and claimed near-perfect recall. A prodigy?
A line from an old teacher floated in his head: "Smart kid—just too lazy."
"Read it aloud and I'll buy you bubble tea."
Jiang Li spoke calmly.
Hearing him, the Witch Miss's eyes snapped open with a soft sparkle.
Though she didn't understand what food he was describing, the words "milk" and "tea" sounded delicious to her.