Hao Lou sat on the cold pavement, rubbing his growling stomach with a deep frown.
The worm-on-a-stick still lay discarded by his side, its oily body now attracting a particularly bold fly. He gave it a disgusted look and scooted away.
"There is no way," he muttered. "Not even if the Jade Emperor himself came down and commanded me. That is not food. That's a test of spiritual endurance."
His belly made another pitiful sound, louder this time, like it was crying out for help.
He sighed and leaned back, watching the cars fly past on the road like beasts from another world. The city was loud, chaotic, confusing… but behind him—something was cutting through all of it. A scent.
A scent that made his soul pause.
Grilled meat.
His nose twitched.
He turned his head.
Behind the glass walls of a shop, mortals were seated around metal tables, laughing and talking loudly while rotating skewers of glistening, caramelized meat over small grills. Flames licked the edges of the meat. Smoke rose in slow, tempting tendrils. Golden brown crusts bubbled with fat.
Saliva pooled in his mouth before he even realized it.
He reached up to wipe his chin, his eyes fixed through the glass like a starving cat.
'ahhh that looks so delicious.. and juicyy… how long has it been since I've had grilled meat… wow.. I want some…'
He opened his small pouch and peered inside. A few spirit pills sat at the bottom—high-grade ones, but with not even a hint of spiritual energy. Back in the Celestial Realm, one of those could buy him a mountain.
But here… he sighed out loud.
"Will mortals accept pills as payment?" he muttered, tilting his head. "I don't even know if they can sense the energy…"
He stood at the doorway of the barbecue shop, shifting from one foot to the other. His hand clutched the edge of his sleeve tightly as he debated his options.
Go in and beg?
Offer a pill?
Or maybe just stare long enough for someone to give him pity meat?
He was still trying to muster the courage to go in when—
CLANG.
The metal door swung open suddenly, almost hitting him in the face. He jumped back.
A young man stumbled out, one arm lazily slung around another guy's shoulders and the other lifted high, clutching a half-empty can of beer like it was the scepter of a war hero.
Hao Lou blinked in surprise.
The man looked to be about twenty, maybe a little younger. His black hair was short, slightly curly, and messy in a deliberate kind of way. His hooded eyes blinked slowly, not quite focused, and his lips curled upward in a natural cupid's bow that looked effortlessly smug.
He was dressed casually—just jeans and a shirt—but even that looked better on him than any celestial robe Hao Lou had ever seen on anyone.
And the strangest thing was… Hao Lou couldn't stop staring.
It wasn't just the mortal's good looks. There was something else. Something in the air that tugged at him. Like an invisible thread had just yanked at the center of his chest and now refused to let go.
The young man was about a foot shorter than him, with soft brown hair that was curly at the end.. he… he looked kind of dull with his hooded eyes and soft button nose, but his lips though… they resembled a cupid bow, pulling his eyes down to them.
'Who is he?' Hao Lou thought, frozen in place.
Then— those beautiful pink mouth opened and…
BUUURRP.
The man let out a sudden, loud burp and blinked like he didn't expect it himself.
For a second, the look of innocent confusion on his face made him seem like a baby deer seeing its own reflection.
"I'm telling you—hic—Professor Wang is secretly a demon. That's why he gives Friday morning quizzes," he declared, wagging his beer can like it was a microphone.
His group of friends burst into loud laughter as they spilled onto the sidewalk outside the BBQ place. Their cheeks were red from liquor, their clothes smelled of smoke and spice, and all of them were slightly too drunk to walk in a straight line. Baiju blinked, trying to focus. The world shifted left, then tilted right, and then for a moment—
He stopped.
His eyes met someone else's across the pavement.
A man stood by the shop's glass wall, stiff as a statue. His features were too refined, too clean, like someone had drawn him with an ink brush. His eyes were wide, almost too wide. His clothes were odd, like a poor attempt at cosplay—long, flowing, and slightly singed at the edges.
Baiju stared.
And the strange man stared back.
Time seemed to pause.
Then Baiju quickly looked away and mumbled, "Someone filming a drama here? Where are the cameras? I don't want to be in a show—I didn't do my hair today…"
He looked side to side like a lost duck, blinking exaggeratedly as he searched for imaginary cameras.
"Who the hell are you talking to?" his friend laughed, clapping him on the back. "You okay, Baiju?"
"Baiju's drunk again," another one teased. "Hey, Baiju, fall in love with another tree branch tonight?"
They laughed even louder.
Baiju made a face. "You guys wouldn't know beauty if it slapped you."
Still wobbling on his feet, Baiju stumbled forward—right toward the man he'd just locked eyes with. He squinted up at him. "Tall…" he mumbled, lips quirking into a small, drunken smile.
Hao Lou stood frozen. He watched the young mortal wobble closer with suspicious eyes. 'What does this overly curious man want from me?'
Then the man suddenly leaned forward.
And puked. Right. On. Him.
Right on the front of his robes. All of it. Pungent, brown, half-digested horror. Dripping down the fabric.
Hao Lou didn't move.
He couldn't move.
He stared straight ahead, eyes wide in pure, unfiltered disbelief. The smell hit him next.
"…Why…?" he whispered, barely audible.
Baiju blinked slowly, still swaying, before mumbling with a crooked smile, "No… you… you look good…"
His friend screamed, "Oh my god, Baiju, WHY?!"
He grabbed Baiju by the arm and yanked him back.
But before Baiju could walk away properly, another voice yelled, "Watch it, idiot!"
Too late.
Baiju turned, his foot missed the edge of the curb entirely, and in the next second—
BAM.
He hit the streetlight pole forehead-first. The sound was so loud it echoed slightly. His beer can flew out of his hand and rolled into the street.
He staggered back, dazed.
Then his knees gave out and he collapsed backward in a heap.
The last thing he heard was someone laughing in the distance before the world tilted and everything went black.
Hao Lou blinked again.
He looked down at the vomit on his chest.
Then at the unconscious mortal.
Then back at his soiled robes.
And for a long, long moment, he just stood there, absolutely defeated.
"…I hate the mortal realm," he whispered.