Chapter Text
Perfection, as defined by Lady Bone Demon, had paradoxically imperfectly and chaotically skewers nearly every part of his restaurant like poorly made xinjiang lamb skewers, with his hand trailing along one of the icicles that skewered through one of the walls. The cold from the icicle seeped through his skin, through his muscles and bones and sinew that fused together to make him, and right to his very soul, quickly removing his finger away from the icicle, as if he had been burned.
“It’s gonna be a pain in my loin and my ancestors’ loin to remove all this ice out of my restaurant,” he muttered to himself, dragging a hand to his face.
Faint whispers haunted his ears the moment he heard a crack in the ice and the fissure spreading through the icicle before it buckled and exploded.
“You really didn’t think that you were going to remove all this ice by yourself huh?” asked MK, twirling his staff in his hands before he put it away.
Pigsy turned around to fully face MK, who was just as tired and battered as he was. Hell, even more so. “I thought you were removing the ice from the city?”
MK fully stepped into the restaurant. “I was. Did quite a bit of the work, Mei’s doing a lot to help with her sword, so is Tang, Sandy, and a few others.”
“Define, a ‘few others,’ MK,” said Pigsy.
“Oh, ya know, Yin, Jin, Nezha, Red Son, Scorpio Queen-or was that Princess Scorpion Demon, can’t quite remember, and that demon chef who made those cursed meatballs that one time, a few other demons I don’t know the names of,” MK rattled off on his fingers.
Huh. Weird. His teacher isn’t on that list. “What about Wukong?” asked Pigsy. “And DBK?”
If Pigsy was anyone else and didn’t know MK as well as he did, he wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong, wouldn’t have noticed the way that the young adult slowed down slightly, even if he was still going at the speed of light. But he did, and he knew something wasn’t quite right.
“Wukong’s up on Flower Fruit Mountain, he’s resting a bit,” said MK.
“A lot you mean,” said Pigsy, knowing that he was trying to cover for the celestial being.
“Yeah. The Bone Lady Demon messed him up a bit. She messed up Bull King too, ya know? Macaque too, even if, even if none of them want to admit it. The ice does something to them,” said MK, hands shoved in his jacket, pivoting on one of his feet as he twirled, kicking the icicle he broke out of the restaurant, before fully turning back to face Pigsy. “The ice does something to them, something awful, and they try to pretend that it’s nothing, but we know. We all know.”
“I see,” said Pigsy. “I see. Go on out, go continue helping the rest of the city.”
“What about you Pigsy?”
Pigsy brought out his ping pong paddle and a single ball. “I think I can figure something out kid,” he said with a sly grin. “I got this MK.”
He did not, indeed, have it. His ping-pong paddle and ball did minimal damage to the ice enclosing his restaurant. A few icicles had been broken into bits and pieces, even with his most powerful swings. One more go, maybe. One more go, and perhaps he can get the hang of this, he told himself. Pigsy prepared himself, turned his body towards a spear of ice that he thought he could break and threw the ball in the air, pulled his arm back to swing, and hit the ball with all his might, the same might that has terrorized an entire city at twice in his lifetime at the block of ice.
Distorted whispers escaped the ice the moment the ball made contact, and Pigsy stepped forward, inspecting the crack that scuttled away from the impact point, the only proof of his efforts were even working.
Maybe he should have had MK to help him out, but he knows the kid is busy helping the rest of the city, it would not be fair to have him stay behind to help such a cantankerous old pig like himself.
“Noodle boy left you all alone? Seems… dangerous don’t you think?”
Great. Just great. “Red Son, aren’t you supposed to be helping to remove the ice in the city?” he groused, annoyed by his inability to remove the ice and the sudden intrusion in his restaurant, turning around to face the demon. “I don’t really have time for-Princess Iron Fan?”
“Hello Pig,” greeted Princess Iron Fan. “Having trouble with the ice?”
“What-what are you doing here?” asked Pigsy. “I thought you were helping with the city? Or With your husband?”
“I was with my husband, caring for him, but he had sent me out, said I needed a break from caring for him. Noodle Boy-”
“MK,” came Pigsy’s automatic correction.
“MK had asked me to help you with the ice in your restaurant, as part of our truce,” she explained. “But I wasn’t going to do it for the truce.”
“What? Why?”
“You helped my son numerous times. It seems fair to help someone who understands how important my son is to me and my husband,” she said. “And I must admit, albeit selfishly, I want your restaurant back up and running, so I can have some of your noodles.”
Pigsy gave her a doubtful look. “You, you want some of my noodles.”
“Yes, they are quite delicious.”
“But you voted against me in the food wars,” said Pigsy, waving his paddle around in confusion. “That makes no sense. Can ya enlighten a swine here? Put him in the know?”
Princess Iron Fan didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked away from him with her arms folded across her chest and he could hear the very audible sucking of her teeth. He didn’t really have the energy to deal with her being cagey today, they are both too drained for this back and forth, so why was she putting him through this?
“I don’t read minds, princess.”
“I had to honor a blood oath I made with Yin and Jin,” she muttered. “Believe me if I didn’t have that obligation, I would have cast the obvious vote.”
“I see.” She was embarrassed. He should have realized this.
“I’ve been dying to have those noodles again, but we all had our business to attend to and now that Lady Bone Demon is dealt with, why not give it a try,” said Princess Iron Fan.
“And you think by helping me, I would have felt obligated to give you a bowl?” assumed Pigsy. She nodded. “I would have given you a nice hot bowl, either way, all you had to do was ask.”
Why were all these demons so… like this? Why can’t they ever ask for things outright? He’s going to have to work on that with it, make them be more direct with him at the very least.
“Had to do what’s necessary to make sure to get my nice bowl of ramen,” said Princess Iron Fan, unveiling her giant fan. With the fan still closed, she raised it up in the air and brought it down on the icicle that Pigsy had impacted, shattering the icicle into pieces.
Turning to face the pig, “Use that paddle and ball of yours to put some cracks in these ice spears, and I’ll break them. Sounds like a plan, Zhu Bajie?”
“Call me Pigsy,” he said, throwing the ball on the floor and hitting it with the paddle as it bounced back up.
As the last ice spear that covered the entrance to Pigsy’s kitchen was destroyed, Princess Iron Fan unfurled her fan and carefully fanned the ice chunks into a small tornado that spiraled its way out of the restaurant, and conveniently destroyed by something that Pigsy was certain MK and Crew had been involved in.
“That’s the last of it,” said Pigsy, wiping the sweat dripping down his face. “Thanks for the help.”
“It was no issue… Zhu Bajie-”
“Pigsy.”
“Besides, it was also cathartic, to say the least,” said Princess Iron Fan, snapping her fan shut. “I’ll be taking my leave-”
“Sit down,” said Pigsy, nudging her to sit down at the counter. She let out a slight gasp as if she was offended that his sweaty hands were dirtying her royal regalia. “Don’t get up. Give me a little time to clean up.”
“What are you doing-”
“I am making you the best damn noodles you’ve ever had in your demonic life,” he said, slamming his hands on the counter, looking at her head-on, watching as she calmed down and rested her fan down on the counter. Then he took his leave.
Princess Iron Fan was his first customer in such a long time and Pigsy did not intend to disappoint her.
Clean and refreshed, he slapped a glass on the counter, startling the demon.
“You know how to knock the wind out of a demon,” she said.
“Gotta, especially when you got MK as an employee,” said Pigsy, filling the cup up with water. “You should know all about it, with Red Son, I mean.”
Princess Iron Fan chuckled. “I know all too well.”
Pigsy turned around, to fully face his beloved kitchen and washed his hands.—Oh, how he missed his beloved kitchen. “Drink up. I’ve left you without anything to drink for far too long.”
“You did leave me alone for quite some time,” agreed Princess Iron Fan. “I could have easily wiped this place to the ground.”
“But you didn’t.”
She nodded. “But I didn’t. Why did you leave me alone for this long?”
“Correct,” he said, pulled out several pots, mixing bowls, a cutting board, a strainer, and his cooking utensils, and spread them out on the counter.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pressed. “Why did you leave me alone for this long?”
Pigsy gave a half-hearted shrug. “Would you really do that if it meant you couldn’t get your noodles? Seems kinda counterproductive to me, don’t ya think?”
“... I suppose you have a point.”
“I do,” bragged Pigsy with a toothy grin and began to sashay away from his cooking counter and hummed along to a nonsensical jig he made up as he rummaged through his cupboard and industrial fridge to pull out all the ingredients that he needed and sashayed back to the counter, separating them into spices, sauces, and vegetables and meats.
Pulling the butcher knife out of its holding block, he flipped it on its sides as he inspected it to see if the blade needed to be sharpened, and grinned when he realized the blade was still as sharp as it was before Lady Bone Demon stuff happened. He took to starting his prep, quickly mincing half the cloves of garlic while leaving the rest to soak in vinegar. Moving on to the ginger, he got one hand of ginger, evenly cut it into 10 strips, and then cut off the ends of three spring onions.
“Answer me this Princess,” said Pigsy. “How spicy do you want your noodles?”
“As spicy as you can humanly make them.”
“That will require all of my chili peppers, I’m not giving you all my peppers just for one bowl of noodles.”
“Mortals and your low spice tolerance,” huffed the demoness. “If only the gods had made you all sturdier."
“Listen, Princess, if you find these noodles satisfactory and wanna come back, why don’t ya bring some demonic peppers for me to throw in whenever I make this particular recipe for you again, got it?”
The sound of rushing water could be heard, the demoness refilling her cup. “Sounds like an acceptable deal, mutually beneficial for the both of us.”
“Whatever ya say,” said Pigsy, as he cut the top of several chili peppers.
Several moments later, she commented, “You are… mighty quick. How do you do that?”
“Been cooking since I was a kid, you’ve been doing this as long as I have, and consider cooking to be your life? Some of these things come quickly, its second nature, its reflexes,” explained Pigsy, shoving aside the prepped ginger, spring onions, and chili peppers.
Tossing flour into a mixing bowl, he slowly poured in his water and started to knead the forming yet bubbly, aerated dough sticking to his fingers. Just before the dough reached its final form, Pigsy added just a pinch of salt, took it out of the bowl, and continued kneading for several more minutes till his dough was completed to perfection, with very few lumps in the dough itself. He then placed the dough back in the bowl, covered it with a damp cloth, and pushed it to the back of the counter to wait out the dough as it de-lumped itself.
Moving on to the beef, the chef cut it up, sprinkled a dash of vegetable oil in his large pot, turned the pot on high heat, and turned it down once the oil started sizzling. Pigsy then added the prepared garlic, spring onions, and chili pepper and stirred the vegetables as he waited for the garlic to brown.
When it had finally browned, Pigsy added the meat in and poured enough water to slightly cover the meat once it browned, along with the cooking wine, bay leaves, ginger slices, and star anise. Pigsy swiped the lid, covered the pot as he turned the heat down once more, and set a twenty-minute timer.
Taking a step back, he took a moment to admire his handiwork so far. “Not bad for a pig who’s been out of the kitchen.”
“Not bad indeed, pig.”
“Onwards to cutting these strips,” Pigsy said to himself, as he leaned forward to pull the mixing bowl towards him. He checked the dough, pleased to see most of the lumps gone and soft to the touch, reached out for his pastry brush and coated it in oil. He placed the dough on the cutting board, oiled the knife and rolling pin, and started to roll out the dough.
Butcher knife hovering in the air, he lowered it down in a swift, smooth arc to the do and began to cut the rolled dough into strips. After that was done, he oiled a plate, sat the strips on the plate, and painted it with oil one more time before covering the plate with plastic wrap.
“Hard part’s done, me thinks,” said Pigsy, shuffling his hands together as he moved to drain the water off the beef, rinsing it off in a strainer to rid the fad and picking out the meat to stuff back into the pot. “Now comes the trial of patience. Be ready to wait for a long while Princess.”
“Normally, you have this ready in no time,” said Princess Iron Fan, voice slow as she speaks. “What’s the hold-up this time around?”
“Well normally, I’m here at the crack of dawn, prepping everything by hand before the shop opens for business and when it’s time to fill a customer’s order, I just throw it all together with all the fresh ingredients I prepped for the day. Or week, depending on what it is,” began Pigsy, as he danced around the pot and added the rest of his spices and sauces. “But, when you make a journey to the west, you don’t really have time to prepare things by hand to save time. It’s fine though, you’ll get to have this pulled noodle recipe of mine fresh off the pot.”
“That is always a bonus, a wonderful bonus.”
“It’ll be a two-hour wait. Two hours and some change,” he said.
Princess Iron Fan poured herself more water. “What will we do for two hours?” she asked. “I’m certain that sitting in silence for that long will drive us both mad.”
Pigsy picked up a rag and wiped his forehead. Indeed, what would they do? “Why not talk?”
“Do you have something stronger? As important as water is, I would like something stronger to unwind,” she said and Pigsy quickly accommodated her. “While we… talk.”
The chef himself poured himself a cup of water, downing it all in one gulp. He set another timer, this time for two hours. Leaning over on the counter, he poured himself another glass.
“Start talking Princess.”
Pigsy made a mistake. A grave mistake. He thought that getting the demoness to talk would be difficult, as she has shown herself to be cagey, deflective, and sly, as all the demons he had dealt with in his life so far have proven themselves to be. However, after a few drinks, the demoness’ horns came down, revealing silky smooth black hair that she kept back by adjusting her tiara as a way to keep it out of her face, revealing a chatty demon who could easily talk Tang’s ears off.
“And how-how do you deal with that kid of yours, the one that works for you? He’s always so hyper!” asked Iron Fan, chuckling as she downed another glass. “Does he ever calm down?”
The chef chortled, his laughter growing louder and louder until he had to hold his stomach to calm down his ebullient, bemused oinking. “Which one? I got two of ‘em!” he responded. “Three if ya count Tang!”
“I was referring to MK! He’s always so chipper, and so bright! It’s like looking at the sun head-on for several days straight!” she said.
“Oh, you think that’s bad, he’s… a whole case as my employee,” said Pigsy, chuckling a little harder as he talked about the beloved kid. “Kid’s in his twenties, can’t make a grilled cheese sandwich, but if you ask him about literally anything related to Wukong and mythology, or video games, or something like that, he’ll talk your ear off!”
“I can tell! Does he-does he do the thing where you ask him to do something, and he walks off, and-and erhm,” she started snapping her fingers as she tried to piece her words together. “But he always comes back in the room to ask why he even came in there?”
“Yeah, all the time ,” said Pigsy. “I had to have him write out his tasks that he has to do for the day and put it in his phone so whenever he does that, he possibly remembers what he has to do next.”
“Does. It. Work?” asked Princess Iron Fan. “I need to know, because I am at my wits’ end with Red Son and DBK, they will honestly do the exact same thing that you’re describing, and as hilarious as it can be, it can also be just as infuriating.”
“Uh. It has… inconclusive results.”
“What does that mean-”
Pigsy jumped up hearing the timer go off. “Would you look at that! Timer’s up, gotta go finish them noodles,” he said with a cheeky grin, moving to boil a pot of water. He moved over to his cut dough, removed the plastic wrap over it, looped the strips twice, and threw them in the pot, waiting for them to cook.
Once they were fully cooked, he put them in a bowl and tossed a few beef chunks on one side of the bowl, with the cooked choy sum wrapped around the opposite side. Pigsy poured the soup on with a ladle, garnished it with chopped green onions, and slid the bowl to Princess Iron Fan on the counter.
“Here’s your Xinjiang pulled noodle soup, eat up!”
He turned around, made himself his own bowl, leaned against the counter as he raised his spoon in the air, and dug into his soup.
“Enjoy Princess,” he said, dropping the snark as they fell into silence while they ate the first few spoonfuls of their noodle soup.
A definitive clack of a spoon hit the counter, catching Pigsy’s attention. Princess Iron Fan shifted her focus from her noodles to Pigsy, pursing her lips in a line thinner than her patience for Red Son.
“Well, ya gonna say something, or are ya gonna keep judging me?” asked Pigsy, tossing his spoon in the bowl.
The demoness blinked, before turning to face him. “I was going to say. I’m going straight to bed after this, I don’t care what my husband says about me going to bed so early. I remembered feeling the exact same way during the whole… food war debacle when I tasted your noodles for the first time.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she corrected, eating another spoonful of the pulled noodle soup and they both fell into another comfortable silence. When she finished, she drank another cup as Pigsy took their bowls to clean them.
Tap water rushed out of the sink head as he dropped them in sudsy warm water to wash the bowls and everything else that he used, humming along to another nonsensical tune that he had just made up as he shuffled his feet side to side in some poor imitation of what could be called a dance. He’s been on a humming streak lately, been more musical, more whimsical.
He must have picked that up from MK or Mei. Not that that’s a bad thing. Might be a good thing, maybe, possibly. He’ll play it safe and call it neutral. The chef continued his task, pulling his sud-covered fingers out of the water to rinse and dry the cleaned dishes, turning his head when he finished.
“Princess?” called out Pigsy, resting his arms on the counter when she was nowhere to be seen. “Where’d ya go?”
Pigsy swung his arm out across the counter, brushed into several coins, and halted as he moved to pick up the coins and paper that seemed to hold down another larger paper.
“What’s this?” he asked, reading what was on the paper.
“Zhu Baije,
While you were cleaning the dishes, I took it upon myself to find out how much you charge for your noodles and decided to compensate you as such. You are also charging too little for handmade deliciousness, and are underselling yourself and your skills. You should fix that. Show these mortals what you are worth.
I will be returning at some point for another meal and with my demonic peppers. Be prepared for another visit.
-Princess Iron Fan”
“For the last damn time, it’s just Pigsy!” he said, smacking the paper in irritation before he picked up the money that she had left behind on the counter.
Huh, that was a lot of money. More than what the order would have come to, including tax. At least she tipped well.
Guess she was also serious about that going to bed thing.
Princess Iron Fan made good on her promise to come back to his restaurant. Several times over, she would sit in the same spot each and every single time she visited his noodle shop. Something about the idea of a demoness enjoying his food so much to the point she made it a point to come over here as often as she could to enjoy a meal by him bemused him. Not sure how exactly, but the mere idea of a mere mortal like him having so much power over her is bemusing.
Even with the fact that he was slowly growing a demonic garden in his own shop and home, with all the vegetables and fruit seeds she had brought for him to use whenever he cooked her meals. Truly, this wasn’t something that he had expected to happen within his lifetime, but here they are.
“Your noodles are what the gods had in mind when they were constructing the perfect meal,” said Princess Iron Fan. “I am certain of it.”
“Glad you’re enjoying your meal,” said Pigsy. “Need anything else while before you dig in?”
“Other than you joining me to consume this meal together, more peppers to this meal.”
“Got it,” said Pigsy, adding more of the demonic peppers she enjoyed and bringing it back to the counter so they could start eating together.
Pigsy was only one spoonful in his meal when he burped up hellfire. Moments after the fire died out of his mouth, he immediately scrambled to the sink head, turned on the tap water, and dived his head under the rushing water to gulp down the lukewarm water that did nothing to cool his burning mouth.
“Oh, water doesn’t really help with that,” said the princess in a monotone voice.
His white shirt became drenched as he fumbled his way to turn the sink head off and grabbed a towel to dry his face off before he turned to glare at Princess Iron Fan. “Ya couldn’t have said anything before I did all of that?!” he said. “Now I gotta get a new shirt to put on!”
She shrugged. “You didn’t ask for help.”
The glare he aimed at her was hot enough to boil the entire western sea. “Give me whatever I need to calm my mouth down while we eat this meal together.”
“Okay,” she said before she pulled out whatever drink he needed.
“You better have a whole gallon of that stuff. I’m gonna need it while I’m downing this meal with you.”
He heard a light-hearted scoff from her, teasing him for his weak mortal stomach as she handed him the drink and they started eating once again, with Princess Iron Fan making her enjoyment well known once more. The comfortable peace was soon disturbed by Tang popping up and joining the two.
“You should work for me and my family. Be our personal chef,” said Princess Iron Fan. “You do not make enough for the food that you are making. These mortals do not appreciate your talents and do not pay you wages that you truly deserve. If it was up to me, you would be my personal chef, work at a five-star restaurant, or have your own show. Morals would know and tremble at your greatness.”
Just shy of shoving the dumpling in his mouth, he stared at her and fully shoved it in his mouth. “I like where I am, thank you. You don’t get to come into my shop, poison me with your demonic peppers-”
“I don’t know if poison is the right word,” cut in Tang.
“Tang, I will kick you out of my damn shop if you say another damn word,” he tacked on before continuing. “And then demand that I work for you and your family. That ain’t how this works, you’ll only succeed over my dead body, and that ain’t fun for the both of us.”
Her response was to purse her lips in a thin line. “You are correct. That would be unfavorable for me,” she said, stuffing herself with a dumpling. “I’ll get you to work for us. Eventually.”
“You’ve been trying that since the second time you came over here, it ain’t gonna work.”
“I’m not losing my favorite chef!” piped up Tang.
“You’re just in it for the free noodles Tang.” “You mean more to me than just noodles, Pigsy.”
Princess Iron Fan looked on at the exchange as she ate, Pigsy caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eyes and they both flashed a bemused grin at each other before they fell into cacophonous laughter that rang through the shop, with Tang’s confused laughter joining chaos.
Things… Things would be alright. More than alright actually.
“You’re silent Princess,” said Pigsy, the corners of his mouth twitching into a teasing smile. “Got something on ya mind?”
“You’ll see when the time comes,” she says. “Make me some dim sum.”
“Got anything, ya want in particular? Or should I surprise you?”
The princess rested her fan on the counter. “Surprise me,” she said after a long pause. Pigsy gave her a curt nod. “I trust you to whip me up something that’ll make me want to sleep for three weeks.”
“If you didn’t you wouldn’t keep coming here,” snarked the pig, a chortle escaping him.
“Damn right I wouldn’t,” she said, pouring herself a glass of water. Interesting how she made herself so comfortable within his restaurant, she better not think she owned this place. This was his restaurant! “Get to cooking, Pig.”
He waved her off as he began her, reminding her that the wait would be a long one like he had several times before, and got a dismissive hand wave from Princess Iron Fan as she became invested in what she was doing. Pigsy can’t help but roll his eyes at her antics before he decided to make some xiao long bao, something that’ll keep his mind occupied and the demoness’ silence that she’s created maintained.
If she wants to be secretive, fine. He’ll let her have her secrets.
Time passed, Tang, MK, and Mei, all swinging through the noodle shop for their varying needs. Tang for his daily free noodles that he had prepped and ready to go; MK to pick up the orders that needed to be delivered; and Mei to come along with MK, while ‘stealing’ bao zi that he had left out for the two to fill up on while they were doing errands—with a copious amount of goofing off from the two—for the day. Pigsy went through his usual shtick of warning the two to stay safe, with a giggle from both adults as they ran out of the shop.
Those two were going to be the death of him. Maybe that’s not a bad way to go.
“They’re always like that?” asked Princess Iron Fan.
Pigsy was nearly done with the xiao long bao, with some quick, final finishes being the only things that needed to be done when he heard her voice. “Ah, so she finally decided to break her silence.”
“Answer the question.”
A dramatic wave of a wooden spoon. “Yeah, they are, it should be obvious. Do you need to get your eyes checked? Or have you been holding that fan too high once again?”
“Very funny.”
“Tang likes my jokes, thank you very much!”
“Huh.” No need to turn around, he knows that she’s doing that dramatic little thing. The thing where she gives him that ultra judgy look, combined with the eye roll and unfurling of her fan.
“I think my son would do good with those two,” she said. “Needs someone to pull him out of his shell.”
He can see where she’s coming from. He needed a lot more than just those two to pull him out of his shell, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell her what Red Son truly needed. She didn’t ask. He wouldn’t tell.
“Your xiao long bao and chow mein, ma’am,” said Pigsy, setting the bamboo basket on the counter.
“Sit, eat with me, experience what heaven tastes like, and then go to sleep right after,” ordered the demoness, and who was the chef to deny an order like that? He washed his hands, before coming to the other side of the counter to join her.
They eat in silence. A silence that was defined by the wet slurping and loud smacking, as they enjoyed their food. When they finished, Princess Iron Fan told him that she wouldn’t be eating dinner and tomorrow's breakfast thanks to the meal that he had prepared.
As usual, she left behind a note and too much damn money. What the hell, what does he have to do to get her to pay like a normal person, tip included? Why even bother, she’s gonna do as she pleased and he turned to the note, eyebrow raised as he read the first line.
“Pigsy,
I wish you would listen to me and charge these mortals more. You are creating the food the gods themselves can not feast on, you should be paid as such. Stop letting them pay you less than what you deserve. You should have taken me up on that offer to come to be our personal chef, you would be paid the wages you deserve.
By the way, I had installed a menshen outside the door to your shop to ensure that nothing happens to it. Call it a… selfish desire of mine. Do note that this menshen is not a normal one, but one that originated from the Netherworld, specially designed to prevent anyone, demonic, celestial, or mortal from entering your shop if they have ill intent. Say hello to Zhong Kui and his five bats, they'll need to get acquainted with you.
I will swing by soon to see how you like your new menshen and for another bowl of noodles.
-Princess Iron Fan”
He set the paper down on the counter in disbelief. She hadn’t? She wouldn’t have, she would not be that audacious, he kept repeating to himself as he stepped outside of his shop.
Oh, but she had. Of course, the one time she called him by his actual name, she would pull something like this! Princess Iron Fan had a way of surprising him, but this is nothing new, not from his demonic regular.
Blessed, by a demon. Wait till Tang and everyone else hears about this.