Ever since arriving on Earth, the one thing Kakayan felt grateful for was that she hadn't made an enemy of Jiang Li.
Of course, the main reason was that her magic had shrunk to almost nothing.
Even if she wanted to fight, she'd lose.
But even if her spells had stayed intact—so what?
The past two days she'd followed Jiang Li outside, and Kakayan had seen what human society looked like.
These humans weren't like the villagers on the continent of Aze, who let her push them around.
On the contrary, every one of them seemed craftier than she was—Jiang Li included.
Kakayan suspected the people here were educated from childhood; their words and gestures reminded her of the cleverest minds back home.
And on Earth, there were still countless things she didn't understand.
Thinking this far, Kakayan shuddered. If her magic hadn't faltered, she probably wouldn't be behaving this meekly.
What would have happened then?
Powerful people might have locked her up, drooling over her looks...
"What are you spacing out for?"
Her thoughts scattered as Jiang Li's voice sounded behind her.
Kakayan turned. He was frowning at her, eyes sharp.
"Wash dishes the way you're doing it and I'll be broke in a week."
Jiang Li leaned over and shut off the faucet.
"What do you mean?"
Kakayan tilted her pretty face; she didn't understand.
She'd followed his instructions—sponge, dish soap, rinse the bubbles away.
"Did I miss a step?"
"No, they're spotless." He ran a thumb along the bottom of a bowl and sighed. "You just used half the city's water."
"You stood there daydreaming while the tap ran."
He tapped the faucet, wincing at the thought of the bill.
He wasn't stingy—he was broke. No steady income yet, and utilities were a monthly guillotine.
"But water's unlimited, isn't it?" Kakayan fluttered her lashes.
She had no idea how hard it was to run a household; to her, human switches were miracles—flick a wrist, there was light, there was water.
"The resource is unlimited, my wallet isn't." Jiang Li stacked the clean dishes. "The moment you open that valve, an invisible meter starts running. The longer it spins, the more I pay. Don't waste it."
"Oh! Like your food—everything has a price." Kakayan lifted her chin, pink ponytail swishing like a happy cat.
"That works. We're broke, so we pinch every coin."
Seeing she understood, Jiang Li went back to work.
While editing, the sound of running water had grated on him like sandpaper.
Each drop was cash circling the drain.
Kakayan finished drying the sink, proud of the sparkling plates.
She wiped a faint sheen of sweat from her brow and admired her handiwork.
White porcelain glinted like art under the light.
Of course they looked good—she'd washed them.
After a long moment of self-congratulation she wandered into the living room.
Jiang Li sat on the sofa, eyes fixed on a slim black rectangle, pupils reflecting cold light.
Tap-tap-tap.
His fingers moved; crisp clicks punctuated the silence.
"What... are you doing?"
Kakayan bent down, head beside his, and saw a video—herself eating xiaolongbao.
"So that's what I look like when I eat..."
Astonishment colored her voice.
Though Jiang Li had explained that phones could record, the lifelike image stunned her.
Even the finest crystal orb back home could only project a single focal point; this was flawless.
"Incredible!"
Jiang Li turned. Kakayan's lips were parted, amethyst eyes reflecting the screen's glow—from curiosity to shock to blank amazement, her face ran the full spectrum.
"This is called video editing."
He pressed the spacebar. The clip froze on a ridiculous frame: Kakayan mouth open, lunging for a dumpling, face angled, eyes locked on the prize.
Every ounce of impatience was etched in her expression.
"Why did I turn out like this?" She thought it was a still.
In her mind she was always elegant, every pose sultry.
Yet here she looked like a fool—surely her table manners weren't that bad.
"Ugh... I look awful." Her voice trembled.
Seeing her near tears, Jiang Li remembered his own disastrous candid photos.
He'd felt exactly this helpless.
"Don't worry. That's one bad frame. Most of the time you look great."
Kakayan blinked, staring.
"Really?"
"What do I gain by lying?" He smiled faintly and hit play.
The next instant her silly face vanished, replaced by bliss as she bit into the dumpling—eyes closed, a perfect curve on her lips.
The smile belonged to a girl hearing her first love confession. "Adorable" wasn't an exaggeration.
"Is she really this cute?" Jiang Li leaned closer, suspicious he'd overdone the beauty filter.
He didn't remember Kakayan looking this sweet while filming.
"It's just an ordinary smile," she said airily, though her twitching mouth betrayed her pride. She hid it behind a hand.
Jiang Li scratched his cheek and tapped space again, rolling past the frame.
"I'm editing. Don't hover."
He'd meant to explain the whole process, but her nearness had stirred up something he couldn't name.
"Shoo—go play somewhere else."