After Old Jiang left, Jiang Li spent the next hour giving Kakayan a crash course on smartphones—and, while he was at it, the entire Internet.
In modern society Kakayan had no ID card, yet that didn't stop her from cutting a swath through the digital world. Jiang Li could simply register everything under his own name; behind a screen, no one could trace her origins.
Besides, the witch was drop-dead gorgeous, and her reactions while eating were pure entertainment. Jiang Li didn't expect her to become a top-tier streamer, but picking up a modest fan-base and a little extra cash looked entirely doable.
"You're telling me people will pay just to watch my reactions?"
Kakayan tilted her head for a long moment after Jiang Li's explanation, trying to digest it all. She more or less grasped what the Internet was: humans didn't only talk face-to-face; they also chatted through glowing bricks.
What she couldn't understand was why people watching her meant money. And the more viewers, the bigger the paycheck.
Explaining "traffic" sounded tedious, so Jiang Li brushed her off with a breezy "You'll get it later." As far as he was concerned, their roles were already crystal-clear. Kakayan knew too much; that would only get in the way on camera.
When lunchtime rolled around, Jiang Li called her into the kitchen. He heated oil in the wok and pulled tomatoes and eggs from the fridge.
"Watch closely," he said, gesturing. "You're the star ingredient—like the food in my hand."
"I'm... the food?" Kakayan narrowed her eyes, baffled.
"And I," he continued, "handle the editing and the channel—like the chef."
He cracked the eggs into the sizzling oil, scrambled them, then tossed in the tomatoes. Once the tomatoes softened, he chopped them with the spatula, scraped off the skins, added water, and clamped on the lid. A minute later he seasoned the bubbling mixture with salt, sugar, and a pinch of MSG.
"When we each do our part, we end up with a perfect dish."
He slid the tomato-and-egg scramble onto a plate.
"Whether it's perfect, I'll know once I taste it," Kakayan said, eyes lighting up. Jiang Li's metaphor had been vivid, but right now her attention belonged entirely to lunch.
He handed her the training chopsticks he'd bought earlier. "Try these."
Kakayan examined the shorter sticks, comparing them to the pair Jiang Li was using. "Why are mine smaller?"
"They're made for begin... newcomers."
"Oh—newcomers." She nodded, far less offended by that label than by "children." Everyone had to start somewhere.
Jiang Li didn't mention that in China, "chopstick newbie" basically meant "kid."
"Come here—don't just eat. I'll teach you how to cook rice."
Old Jiang had dropped off enough groceries to be a lifesaver; Jiang Li's idle rice cooker finally had a purpose. Feeding two mouths on takeout every day would bankrupt him. Home-cooking was the only sensible option.
Jiang Li was halfway through explaining the rice cooker when his phone buzzed again. It was his mother.
"Practice on your own for a minute," he told Kakayan. Measuring rice and water was foolproof; what could go wrong?
He stepped into the living room and answered. "Hey, Mom. What's up?"
He scratched his head, wondering why she was calling right after Old Jiang's visit.
"Hi, Xiao Jiang. How've you been?"
"I'm good. Did Dad show you my photos?"
"I saw them—you've filled out... Listen, be honest with me."
"Shoot."
"Have you been fighting?"
"..."
Fangxian's single question froze him. If life-or-death battles counted, then yes—he'd been fighting for three straight years.
"Mom... what makes you think that?"
"So you did fight. Oh, child, what am I going to do with you..."
"I wasn't fighting—I just wondered why you'd think so."
"Then explain the bite marks on your hand."
Jiang Li hesitated, scrambling for an excuse. Suddenly Kakayan's voice rang from the kitchen: "Jiang Li, the rice is done! When do we eat?"
Fangxian pounced. "Who was that? There's a woman in your apartment—are you dating?"
"Not my girlfriend, just a roommate..." Jiang Li waved frantically for Kakayan to shut up. All this trouble from one careless mouth.
"Mom, don't overthink it. I'll explain at New Year's."
"Fine. Just remember one thing."
"What?"
"Stay safe!"
The line clicked dead.
Jiang Li stared at his phone like a bewildered subway commuter. How had "stay safe" sounded so ominous over the phone?
Meanwhile Fangxian rang Old Jiang.
"Hey, Old Jiang, I know what those bite marks are."
"I thought the kid said it was a dog?"
"He lied. Our boy has a girlfriend."
"A girlfriend—great! But what does that have to do with—" Jiang Jianguo stopped mid-sentence. "Oh. That little rascal's getting adventurous..."
...
Jiang Li returned to the kitchen. Kakayan had the rice steaming and was absent-mindedly twirling the training chopsticks.
"What's wrong?" She frowned under his stern gaze. "I didn't sneak a bite."
He sighed. "You ate something you weren't supposed to."
"Mm-hmm... huh?"
Kakayan's shoulders twitched; she wiped her mouth and inspected the chopsticks. Impossible—he hadn't seen her snatch those red tomatoes.
Without a word Jiang Li raised his forearm, displaying the perfect set of bite marks.
"Look what you did. Permanent souvenir." He waved the arm in front of her face.
"Stop showing me—I know I messed up." She sounded genuinely guilty; biting people was mortifying.
But Jiang Li said nothing, just kept the evidence dangling in front of her eyes.
Kakayan's temper finally snapped. She jerked Jiang Li's wrist aside and snapped, "Stop waving it around! If it bothers you that much, just bite me back!"