The small eatery was open for business as usual. Lia’s grandfather sat behind the counter, managing the Spirit Card Cinema playback and handling payments.
Su Hong leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Lia prepare snacks and drinks.
She wore a white cotton headscarf, a thin gauze dress, and a matching apron tied from neck to waist. She bustled about, utterly absorbed in her tasks.
At first, Su Hong hadn’t understood her outfit—but recently, he’d figured it out. The kitchen had no ventilation, and all the snacks required cooking. She dressed lightly to stay cool; the cotton headscarf and apron absorbed sweat before it soaked her clothes.
Every time he saw her like this, Su Hong couldn’t help a mischievous thought: *Lia trains with Spirit Cards daily—agile, skilled… does she have muscle tone?*
Alas, even where sweat had dampened the fabric translucent beneath the apron, not a trace of muscle showed. Her arms especially—slender, fair, so delicate they seemed to break at a touch.
Sensing his gaze, Lia instinctively clutched her apron. Her cheeks flushed crimson, steam practically rising from her head.
“Y-you’re staring at what?”
“You look overheated, Lia. Take a break? I can handle the snacks.”
*Well, honestly, I can cook anything—definitely nothing as bizarre as that jelly eggplant.*
Lia grew even flustered, a flicker of shame in her eyes.
“S-sorry… I sweat easily… Does it look dirty? Do you… hate it?”
“Why apologize? You’re clean. Perfectly clean.”
Su Hong pursed his lips, baffled by her worry. He grabbed a nearby towel and gently wiped her cheek. Lia froze, ears burning crimson to the tips.
When he stepped back, she stood head bowed, fingers tight on the apron, orange hair spilling over her shoulders. A wisp of steam seemed to curl from her scalp.
“Hey… Lia?”
“Eep!”
She jolted, slender frame trembling before snapping back. Face blazing, she spun around and dove into frantic work.
What felt like simple concern to Su Hong left *him* flustered too. He silently delivered drinks. Though customers were glued to the Spirit Card Cinema, one glanced up as Su Hong set down a glass and offered two warm, knowing smiles.
“Absolutely captivating—I never tire of it. Say… didn’t your shop sell Spirit Cards to the Chris Guild recently?”
Su Hong nodded. “Hear it from others?”
The man shook his head, glanced around, then leaned in, voice dropping low.
“Rumors say the Chris Guild made these—but I know they’re yours. Yours are complete. Theirs? Half-finished copies.”
Su Hong shrugged. The Spirit Card Cinema was famous in town, yet few knew *he* created it—besides those at the dispute. Honestly, he preferred the anonymity.
“Stay sharp,” the customer whispered, voice tighter. “The Chris Guild stole the method, mass-producing inferior copies. It’s a craze—even the Imperial Capital’s scrambling for them! I fear they’ll come for your sequel.”
He leaned closer. “My neighbor’s an apprentice Spirit Glyphsmith there. Says the Guild’s poaching talent from other towns. Over a dozen apprentices working nonstop—no time to eat—churning out counterfeits, still can’t keep up! I don’t know your source… but you’ve been robbed. Watch your back.”
Su Hong hadn’t expected such frenzy. *Guess the cultural impact really hit hard.*
He didn’t care about the Chris Guild selling copies—gold coins meant nothing to him. But their theft? Annoying.
*No wonder they vanished after that day. Too guilty to face me.*
“Thanks. I’ll remember.”
The customer subtly raised his eyebrows twice. “Don’t mention it. The owner across the street sent me. Says you’re truly admirable.”
He turned back to the screen as if nothing happened.
Su Hong clicked his tongue. *So that’s why the loudmouth hasn’t barged in with wine lately—busy digging this up.*
Still… intriguing.
*The Chris Guild…*
*Make them the first challenge target? Huh. Barely even thought about “kicking doors,” and targets are already lining up. Plenty to choose from.*
With a quiet hesitation, Su Hong returned to the kitchen doorway.
