Future Trouble

Xuefeng twisted around at the sound of heavy footfalls. A lean elf in green, scale-patterned armor pushed through the doorway, striding into the restaurant with a palpable hostility clinging to him. Light brown hair streaked with a few threads of gold framed his face, his eyes seething with anger. He moved directly toward Xuefeng and Yiren, the tension in the room ratcheting up with each step.

Minori—everyone in Eligma knew him. He'd boasted feelings for Yiren for as long as anyone could remember, and his resentment now radiated off him like a tangible force. Word of a "human consort" clinging to the princess must have reached his ears. Ears that apparently chose only to hear what would fuel his ire. With every glower, his thoughts were plain: How dare some outsider come between him and Yiren.

"What do you want, Minori?" Yiren snapped before he could even speak, her voice cracking like a whip. She lurched up from her seat, then hesitated as if remembering Xuefeng was right beside her. With a huff, she settled back down, but the warning in her eyes burned bright. "If you're here to talk, forget it. Get lost."

Minori shot Xuefeng a murderous glare. "Just one day away from me," he snarled, "and you're already slobbering over a human? What kind of sweet lies has he fed you?"

"He hasn't lied about anything," Yiren spat back, her knuckles whitening. "I made the choice. Now go away. I don't want to talk to you."

Minori ignored her demand. He stabbed an accusatory finger at Xuefeng, inching forward. "So you just fell for some random guy you met? I never expected you to be so shallow, Princess."

That was enough. Xuefeng stood, placing himself between them, letting Yiren linger behind his shoulder. His voice dropped, dangerously calm. "She asked you to leave, Minori. I suggest you take your finger and get out."

Minori's gaze swung to Xuefeng, disgust radiating from every pore. "Oh, really? And what's a lowly human like you—aargh!"

Before he could finish, Xuefeng's hand flashed out, clamping onto Minori's outstretched finger. A grim twist, and the joint snapped with a sickening crack. Minori howled in agony, staggering backward. He cradled his broken digit, eyes bulging with disbelief.

"I warned you," Xuefeng said evenly. "You insult me, you insult her—don't expect me to stand still. Now get out before I do worse."

Somewhere near the back, a chair scraped as an elf patron rose slightly, then settled. No one else intervened; the tension sizzled like static in the air. Minori's face blazed with fury, but he must have known a losing situation when he saw it. He gnashed his teeth, spewing a final threat: "You'll regret that, human. Mark my words." Then he spun around and limped from the restaurant, rage trailing after him like a fiery cloak.

The other elves, lingering over bowls of fragrant stew and cups of floral wine, observed with apathetic interest. One or two raised eyebrows. But no one seemed eager to challenge the princess's new companion. They enjoy a spectacle, Xuefeng thought grimly, sinking back into his chair.

"Thank you," Yiren murmured, leaning toward him. He felt soft lips brush his cheek, a quick, sneaky kiss. Heat prickled across his skin.

He forced a tight smile. "He was being rude. I couldn't ignore it." Meanwhile, deep inside, a flicker of self-awareness nagged at him. I keep making enemies left and right. But he didn't regret defending Yiren. "If he wants to return for a fight, let him come. I'm ready."

Yiren's gaze flickered with concern, but she settled back in her seat. "He's prideful. Breaking his finger like that… you only angered him more."

Xuefeng shrugged. "I can handle it." The memory of that tense moment still pulsed through his nerves, but he tried to appear calm.

The cozy warmth of the restaurant returned, set abuzz by the sudden arrival of Yiren's aunt. She emerged from the kitchen carrying a wooden platter laden with two steaming bowls. The aroma that filled the air was intoxicating—an intricate medley of sweet and savory scents that pulled every eye in the place toward them.

"Sorry for the wait, dears," Auntie said, depositing the dishes on their table. "Just a little appetizer to tide you over, then I'll whip up something more. Enjoy."

Xuefeng took one breath, and it was as though his lungs were coated in sweet, herb-infused warmth. "This smell alone makes me feel rejuvenated," he said, hunger sparking.

Beneath the leaves that acted as lids, tiny orbs of white sat glimmering in a gleaming syrup, dotted with specks of vibrant red. The mixture sizzled faintly, releasing puffs of steam. Scooping some up with the slim wooden chopsticks, Xuefeng lifted a cluster of caviar-like beads and popped them in his mouth. A current of spiciness exploded across his taste buds, quickly mellowed into a rich, honeyed sweetness. He let out a muffled groan of pleasure.

"Isn't it insane?" Yiren said, glancing over. She'd devoured her bowl in what seemed like two seconds and was eyeing his portion with naked longing. "Auntie's cooking is the best in Eligma…"

Xuefeng paused, half-laughing, half-in disbelief. "Slow down next time. This is too good to rush."

"Mmm…" Yiren flushed in embarrassment, then peeked at his half-finished serving with a hopeful grin. "So… can I—?"

"No. It's mine." He guarded the bowl, swallowing another delicious mouthful. She latched onto his arm, batting her eyes in an almost comical attempt to look pitiful. "You only have yourself to blame for wolfing your portion."

"Just one bite," she pleaded, lips forming a perfect pout.

Xuefeng sighed, feeling the gentle tug on his sleeve. "Fine. One."

"Yes!" She nearly squealed, shutting her eyes and opening her mouth expectantly. Shaking his head in amusement, he scooped a bit of the dish and fed it to her. A quiet hum of delight escaped her as she savored it, eyes fluttering closed. The moment was strangely intimate, and he felt the stir of heat in his chest.

Once done, she sighed with bliss. "If only I could eat that forever," she murmured, leaning back contentedly. He finished the rest and set the bowl aside. Yiren's hand was still resting on his arm.

A small drop of syrup lingered on the corner of his mouth. Before he could wipe it, Yiren leaned in and ran her tongue lightly across his cheek, collecting the stray sweetness. The shock of it sent a jolt through him—he froze, trying not to imagine more provocative scenarios.

"Got it," Yiren teased, smacking her lips. "Couldn't let it go to waste."

An involuntary laugh escaped him, the moment both awkward and endearing. She gazed up at him, eyes bright, seemingly unaware of the tension she caused.

I need to control myself… Xuefeng thought, trying to calm his thumping heart.