Finally, it was opening day for the restaurant, which I'd dubbed “Fire Flower.” It seemed to fit the whole theme of spicy food and, eventually, barbecue. I’d whipped up several different hot sauces. One was a bit sweeter, with some carrot and honey to lean into the sweetness. One was fruitier, one was bitterer, and of course the one I’d added ghost pepper to was tear-inducingly spicy.
Today, I wanted a blank canvas to let the flavors of the spicy sauces shine through. The menu for the day was poached pork or chicken with rice that had been cooked in the broth and a garnish of chopped fresh scallions. Poaching isn’t a sexy method of cooking, but it renders out fat and creates a tender, moist, melt-in-your-mouth texture that really lets any sauces shine. I figured that some customers might not be able to manage the spice, so I’d also made a simple mojo sauce with a coriander-like herb, garlic, vinegar, salt, and oil.
Grandma was ensconced, as always, at a table in the corner, gazing out the flower window, watching the pedestrians go by. Xiao-Yu sat on a chair beside her, her beady little eyes just visible above the table. For some unknown reason she was glaring at me balefully, and the white tips of her three tails were twitching alertly.
It was a very slow start. A few curious pedestrians poked their heads in to peek around. Nobody sat down. I was just starting to weigh the logistics of free samples or fliers in this world when the first real customer walked in. Or rather, customers. Or rather, stomped in. One guy seemed to be in charge. He gave off the kind of underworld vibe you see in corny mafia movies. Except, I was pretty sure that he was literally from the underworld. And by underworld, I mean hell, or somewhere close to it.
The man? demon? was extremely tall, with two horns like a bull. His long black robes were thickly covered in intricate red and silver embroidery. There was a fierce expression in his eyes, and his bristling eyebrows furrowed together. As he walked, his robes billowed dramatically. He glanced around the humble restaurant with an inexplicably intrigued expression. It just contained several tables and chairs, some green leafy plants, and a door to the kitchen. It could hardly be more normal.
This was not the clientele that I’d envisioned serving when I opened the restaurant, I thought to myself. I dragged my eyes over to my next customer. He was tall and plump, with a horn jutting out from the center of his forehead. His skin was blue. He was also wearing black robes, but his robes were much simpler. This man cowered and shuffled over to a chair. I looked back at the door again.
The last two were clearly the brawns of whatever operation it was. It was pretty apparent that they shared very few brain cells between them. I wouldn't have been surprised to find out that they had only one and took turns with it. Their upper bodies and arms were enormous, with hulking muscles–the envy of any bodybuilder. Their lower bodies were tiny in comparison, as were their heads. First, they tried to enter at the same time, but couldn’t squeeze through the door together. Then, they each gestured to let the other go first. Then they tried to enter at the same time, with as little success as before. I sighed and left them to figure it out.
I braced myself and stretched my mouth into a good old-fashioned customer service smile. As I walked over to the table, the two slapstick comedians at the door finally figured out how to get inside. I stood alongside the table clutching the tray as if it were a shield. Before I could say anything, the bull-horned man smacked his palm on the table, and roared, “I wish to eat of the rare fire flower.”
“Sir, this is a restaurant. We serve a set menu-”
“Y-you will bring King Ping-Sheng what he w-wishes to eat,” interjected the blue demon.
Ah. I had heard the saying customer is king ad nauseam in my old life. Never thought it was all in preparation for a moment like this. “As I’m trying to explain, ‘Fire Flower’ is just the name of the restaurant, it isn’t a food. But we do serve a fiery sauce you might like," I said brightly.
King Ping-Sheng eyed me suspiciously. The two heavies had sat down and were glowering. It would have been much more intimidating if their heads hadn't been so much tinier than their shoulders. The blue demon wasn’t looking at me, and instead was staring at Xiao-Yu. I glanced over, but the little fox wasn’t getting into any trouble. Finally, the standoff ended.
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“You may serve this king your rare food.”
“Uh, thank you.” I said. I was sincerely reconsidering the wisdom of the whole restaurant idea. I hadn’t even gone to business school. Maybe I should try farming? Or perhaps I could work as a bodyguard...
Mulling over alternative career plans, I went to the kitchen and dished up four bowls of rice and an assortment of chicken and pork. I ladled some of each sauce into separate small bowls for each customer.
My first customers ever. Were demons. I stood in the corner of the restaurant watching them surreptitiously as they ate. King Ping-Sheng dipped a bite of chicken into the spiciest sauce and put it into his mouth. I held my breath. Suddenly, BAM, he pounded his fist on the table and roared loudly. I jumped. I held the tray in front of me and approached the table again. Obviously it wouldn’t be of any use as a shield, but it did make an excellent psychological crutch.
I drew up alongside the table with an ingratiating smile. “How are we doing? Is everything to your liking?”
King Ping-Sheng rumbled what must have been an assent, because he kept eating. His robes were luxurious, but I couldn’t say a lot for his table manners. He picked up the blue demon’s bowl and scraped all the meat into his own bowl. Then he poured the contents of several different small bowls of hot sauce on top. Tears and sweat beaded on his face.
The blue demon said in a quavering voice, “K-king Ping-Sheng looks kindly on your humble c-craft. You may give him a j-jar of the fiery elixir.” He then continued spooning plain rice mixed with scallions into his mouth.
Okay then. I walked back to my corner. Another pedestrian ducked inside, peeking around curiously. His eyes bugged out when he noticed the King and his retinue. He quickly snuck back out, looking terrified, holding his breath, hand clamped over his mouth. I sighed.
Finally the royal party finished eating. I handed a small jar of the spiciest hot-sauce “elixir” to one of the brawny heavies. As King Ping-Sheng walked out the door, he turned to the blue demon and rumbled imperatively, “Reward.” The blue demon dug around in his pockets before tossing something in my direction. As I caught it and shoved it into my pocket, I absent-mindedly said, "Thank you, please come again," then mentally gave myself a hard, punishing kick.
The rest of the day was slow. Not even one single pedestrian peeked into the restaurant. As I changed for bed that night, my royal reward fell to the floor. I picked it up. It was a rough nugget of gold the size of my thumb. Huh. Maybe I should reconsider my target market.
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It was evening, and the chilly blue air carried the smell of fast-approaching autumn. And the dinners of hundreds of households that make up Star River City. She sat in the courtyard desultorily smoothing her tails and watching the two-legged one, full of profound resentment. That first day, she had brought him a rabbit. He was full of joy and appreciation, and she was relieved. It seemed he no longer planned to eat her. But as time went on, her grievance against him grew greater and greater.
She had brought back so many rabbits, yet he never gave her the tantalizing food he cooked in the big pot over fire. Instead, he gave her some combination of plain meat and grains. Now he was cooking yet more food. It seemed he would give it to any strangers who entered the restaurant. What about her, who had been faithfully protecting the old one and was always ready to diligently help taste food?
Xiao-Yu resented the injustice and seriously doubted the ethics of such behavior. She sulked to herself as she licked her front paw. The more experience she gained, the more painfully evident it was that humans had an at best shaky grasp of morality.
The two-legged one glanced over at her and smiled. Hmph. Was he really going to pretend there was no grievance between them? Xiao-Yu ignored him and coolly trotted over to the courtyard entrance, where it opened to the street. The door was propped open slightly.
She peeked her head out and looked up and down the street. Should she run away? She rejected the thought before it even fully formed. No, after so much effort on her part… there must be some way…. She sighed to herself. It was a pity she was so faithful, in spite of how much the two-legged one wronged her. Well, he did save her life. She would endure a bit longer.
She started to pull her head back inside and return to the old one's side. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and flung her into a sack. Xiao-Yu struggled, writhing and yowling in the black cloth. A painful fist socked against her side. She squirmed again, and her captor gave the bag a hard shake.
The side that had been hit throbbed sharply. As footsteps shuffled down the street, tears sprung into Xiao-Yu's eyes. It wasn't the pain. No. They were tears of pity. Xiao-Yu sniffled. What would the old one do without her? Would the two-legged one live in perpetual regret that he neglected to give her the food he gave even to strangers? The pathetic thought brought more tears to her little eyes. Galvanized by empathy, she gave another fierce struggle. Again the fist thwacked roughly against the bag, and this time she descended into darkness.