I eat, scarfing down my meal to leave no time to feel pain orsorrow. Even after all this time, I still see no need to toy with my food. Demon flesh is nowhere near as satisfying as a human’s, but with Sonam’s offering to feed once a moon, I’m not only able to subsist, but thrive on the abundance of qi he has to share.
As I lick my lips clean, the old man steps forward, reaching up to remove the mask he wears. Sonam ties it securely to his belt with a grin. “Another job well done.”
“You make a very convincing senior citizen,” I tell him once I’ve finished my meal in a mere three bites.
He folds his arms over his chest. “And you’ve been letting them get awfully close, Fox.”
I sweep my tails from one side to the other. “Don’t worry, Dinner. I was never going to let him hurt you.”
Sonam reaches out and affectionately scratches below my chin. “Speaking of dinner, we should hurry. We don’t want to be late.”
I press my nose to his cheek. “Lead the way, then. I’m right behind you.”
We walk through the narrow streets of the city together without our masks, making our way over moon bridges and down familiar passages. It’s true that people stop and stare, but never out of fear. Not anymore. I am a familiar and welcome sight—one of the beloved heroes of Longhao—my captain always at my side. Our matching scars make us easily recognizable.
That, and the fact that I’m the only nine-tailed fox demon from here to the farthest corners of the land who protects mankind from the monsters who lurk in the shadows.
Sonam’s posture changes ever so slightly when we’re out and about. A little straighter, his chest puffed out with pride, a protective hand laid upon my side as if to remind me,I’m here.
I rarely hide my face anymore, though my mask still has its uses—like helping me fit through the small doorframe of Wen’s family abode. Although there’s plenty of space, I doubt they’d be pleased to find claw marks everywhere.
Sonam takes it upon himself to place my mask, adjusting it for me as one would a crown. There’s warmth in his eyes as he brushes his fingers across my cheek, moving to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ears. He presses a tender kiss to my lips before we enter, and I make sure to relish the way he tastes.
Wen, his wife, Ling, their children, and Sooah all greet us with enthusiastic shouts the moment we step inside. An assortment of food sits out on the table—steamed vegetables, fried dumplings, noodle soups, and sweet buns all lovingly prepared by hand. It’s not a banquet fit for a king—because in many ways, it’s even better.
“Auntie Yue!” Cheng, Wen’s eldest son, rushes up and wraps his arms around my waist in a tight hug. “What did you bring me?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Unhand me, imp. What makes you think I’d bring you anything?”
“Because it’s my name day!” he says without missing a beat. “Youhaveto bring me somethin’.”
“It’s a rule, is it?”
That’s how humans celebrate their name days, yes, Sooah says with a wide smile.
“So I have to give you something—for free, I might add—just because your parents decided to f—”
Sonam clears his throat, interrupting. He reaches into one of the larger pouches attached to his belt and produces a small bag, something rattling inside. Handing it to the boy, he says, “This is from the both of us.”
Cheng opens the bag and spills its contents onto the flat of hispalm. A collection of small, colorful porcelain marbles. His face lights up. “Oh, wow!”
“What do you say, son?” Wen says firmly.
The boy hugs me again. “Thank you so much!”
How did the hunt go?Sooah asks.We could have helped—
“It was easily dispatched,” Sonam informs her, “but we’ll be sure to take you along on the next one. I’ve heard rumors of a large group to the west.”
Wen’s wife clicks her tongue. “No talk of hunting,” she says, voice light and sweet. “Not with the children around.”
Miyu, Wen’s youngest, whines, “But I love hearing about their adventures.” She’s quite nasally, not unlike her father.
“Me, too!” Cheng boisterously adds as we all gather around the table, taking up our seats to begin the celebration. I take a seat beside Sonam, diligently placing bits of food into his bowl. I’ve grown quite fond of the ritual dinnertime brings, though managing chopsticks still proves a challenge.
“I want to hear about when all of you went to Hell,” Cheng continues.
Their mother frowns deeply. “Don’t say that word. It’s terrible luck on a name day!”
