Blair took a deep breath, her eyes glinting with determined fire as she swept her hair into a tight bun and secured a red cloth across her forehead. She flexed her fingers, almost like a warrior preparing for battle, and raised her fist.

“Watch out, fellas! I’ll show you who the real queen is!”

The owner of the restaurant had deep wrinkles etched into his rugged face as his softened cheekbones and dry lips stretched into a gentle smile as he watched Blair grip the dish as if it were a precious artifact.

“This is it,” Blair said to herself as she gently placed the dishes into the basin. “No more disasters. You are all my comrades, not my enemies. Together, we can make the world brighter.” She paused, raising the dishwashing liquid above her head as if it were a trophy.

The old man chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled those first few days when the “disasters” had caused many casualties—plate after plate slipping from her hands and crashing to the floor. Now, he was glad he had listened to his wife and given her chance after chance to learn. Blair’s cheerfulness and optimism always brightened the chicken restaurant, even on the busiest days.

Blair confidently cleansed the dish while singing.

I put my armor on, show you how strong I am ♪

I put my armor on, I’ll show you that I am ready.

She twirled a plate in her hands while holding a sponge.

“I’m unstoppable… Ahhh!”

She yelped as a bubble popped in her eye. “Oops! Nice try, Mr. Bubble, but I won’t let go of this precious treasure!”

Because...

I’m invincible. Yeah, I win every single dish ♪

I’m so powerful, I don’t need gloves to wash ♪

The old man finally stepped forward, a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you done yet? Join my wife and me for dinner,” he said. “It’s not every day we get serenaded in our kitchen.”

Blair grinned, straightened her back, and raised her soapy hand in salute. “Aye aye, captain! Let me just finish with the last battalion.”

“Well, just try to keep them in one piece,” he chuckled, glancing down at a particularly well-cleaned plate in her hand. “We can’t afford to lose any more soldiers.”

“HUA, captain! I’ll protect them with my life!”

The old man chuckled softly, shaking his head as Blair turned back to the sink. They had seen plenty of workers come and go in their small chicken restaurant, but there was something special about her—a warmth and cheerfulness that brightened the entire place. He knew, without a doubt, that his wife would feel sad when the day came for Blair to stop working with them.

Blair wiped her hands with a clean white towel and took a seat with the couple at the table in the corner of the restaurant’s dining area. Her eyes sparkled when she noticed a small envelope placed beside her plate. She grinned widely, practically bouncing in her seat. Instead of opening the envelope immediately, she held it up, squinting at it as if she could see through the paper.

They watched her with a warm smile.

“Hmm… I will take a guess,” she said excitedly, her fingers touching it thoroughly. “I can finally buy the latest iPhone? Or perhaps…” she gasped, her eyes glistening with playfulness, “a designer bag and shoes!”

The old couple’s wrinkled faces lit up with amusement as they watched Blair embrace her first hard-earned salary as if it were a priceless treasure.

“It’s not a lot, dear, but it should be enough for some premium food for your cat, at least.” The wife winked playfully.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Blair’s grin widened, revealing her perfect white teeth as she held the envelope to her lips and gave it an exaggerated kiss. “I love you, Grandma pa! And you know what? You have the best fried chicken in the world!” She winked at them, then turned to her plate, diving into her meal as if she were in a contest.

The old man’s brow furrowed with concern as he watched her. “Slow down. There’s no need to rush.”

His wife nodded. “You have time, dear. You still have plenty of time for your next part-time job.”

Blair paused mid-bite, flashing them an odd, overly cheerful smile—the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re right! You’re right,” she said, her tone a bit tense. She continued eating at lightning speed, even though she still had an entire hour before her next part-time job.”

After finishing her dinner, Blair dashed to the restroom and returned wearing an oversized, ghostly mascot costume that closely resembled No-Face from Spirited Away. The long black robe pooled around her feet as she moved, trailing across the floor with a ghostly glide, while a white mask with dark, empty eyes and a hollow expression obscured her face.

With a quick, decisive motion, Blair slid half of her salary across the cashier’s counter. Before the couple could react, she raised a gloved hand and waved. “This is my partial payment for all the dishes I broke!” she said, a broad smile hidden beneath her hood and a large white mask. “And… thank you. See you tomorrow!”

She didn’t wait for a response; instead, she spun around, her oversized costume swaying with her momentum, and toddled out of the restaurant, off to her next adventure of handing out flyers for the haunted castle at the new theme park. The couple chuckled, shaking their heads at her endearing antics. However, once the door swung shut behind her, their attention shifted to an unusual guest—a noble-looking, handsome man in his sixties, sitting with such perfect posture that it seemed as if he were dining in a five-star restaurant.

The old man glanced at his wife, who subtly shook her head, as if reading his thoughts. “It’s best not to ask,” she murmured softly.

Instead, she leaned back, folding her arms with a knowing grin. “I was right to double her salary, wasn’t I? I knew this would happen.”

Her husband chuckled and nodded. “I’m glad I always listen to you,” he said, casting a fond glance at the door through which Blair had just exited. “That girl makes me feel younger than my age, with all her spirit and cheerfulness.”

They both shared a laugh, the warmth of which filled the small dining room, even reaching their mysterious guest. He raised an eyebrow in slight annoyance but maintained a steady gaze, his expression remaining unreadable.

..

Blair’s long, exhausting day finally ended. She stumbled through her apartment door, barely able to feel her aching limbs. She hadn’t even removed her shoes when her mischievous kitten, Chuchu, spotted her and pounced, tail flicking with excitement. Blair chuckled as she leaned back onto the cool floor, welcoming its soothing chill against her weary body.

Chuchu wasted no time climbing onto her chest and nudging her nose affectionately before giving her fingers a gentle nibble. However, his wide, eager eyes kept darting toward the bag of cat food she had brought home. Blair chuckled and lifted her hand to ruffle his fur.

“Do you think being cute is enough to get free food and a house?” Blair teased, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at Chuchu.

“Meow!” As if he understood, he meowed loudly while standing on his hind legs, folding his paws in a pleading gesture. “Meow!” He gazed innocently with wide eyes, folding back his ears.

Blair couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Indeed. Cuteness is only what the cat needs to survive.” She chuckled, reaching for a can of cat food.

Still sprawled on the cool floor, Blair smiled as she reached for the grocery bag beside her. She pulled out her treasures for the night: a can of ice-cold beer and a foil-wrapped packet of barbecue. With a soft pop, the beer opened with a crisp, pressurized hiss, releasing the scent of cold, refreshing hops that alleviated her fatigue.

She watched Chuchu eagerly devour his food nearby, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she unwrapped her barbecue.

Blair took a long sip, allowing the cool, fizzy beer to slide down her throat, each gulp more satisfying than the last. Closing her eyes, she let out a deep, contented sigh. She took a hearty bite, her eyes closing in bliss as she chewed, savoring the smoky, juicy flavor of the barbecue meat.

“Wow! I didn’t know that the most delicious thing in the universe is food earned through your own sweat! I’ve never tasted a beer this sweet.” She savored the last bubble, fully immersed in the simple pleasure of the moment.

Blair sat there with Chuchu by her side, finally feeling relaxed in her little haven after a long, fulfilling day of hard work.

As the evening wore on, her exhaustion settled in, more intense than she’d anticipated, fueled by the spirit of the beer. She sank back into her small couch, still wrapped in an oversized black hoodie, her eyelids growing heavy. Sensing her stillness, Chuchu padded over and curled up on her chest, purring contentedly. Blair gave him a gentle scratch on his chin, a faint smile touching her lips before drifting off to sleep, her other hand resting softly on the kitten’s back.

The apartment was quiet, with only the soft purring of Chuchu and the occasional snore of Blair. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, shadows danced gently, wrapping them both in a soothing embrace.

Blair’s face relaxed, free from the day’s tension, while Chuchu’s tiny chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. It was a rare, peaceful moment—a small sanctuary carved out of her busy, stressful life, where even the room seemed to watch over her, guarding her well-earned rest.