03: The Takeaway Boxes Empire
The Chen family mansion loomed over the Bund like a fever dream of nouveau riche excess, all gold-trimmed windows and dragon motifs that seemed to be trying too hard to look imperial. Caera stood in her parents' showroom, surrounded by their latest "innovations" in magical convenience products. Self-heating takeout boxes lined the walls, their runes glowing with promised convenience. Talking chopsticks that critiqued your eating habits sat in premium display cases. Teapots that brewed the "perfect" cup no matter what you threw in them cluttered every surface.
"Your father's newest invention!" her mother chirped, holding up what looked like a normal soup spoon. "It tells you your fortune while calculating optimal sodium intake!"
Caera fought the urge to bang her head against the nearest wall. This was her family's legacy – not ancient magic or noble tradition, but magical kitchenware that turned every meal into a performance piece.
A loud mrrow of judgment drew her attention to the windowsill. Baozi, their household's most discerning critic, sprawled across the imported silk cushions like an emperor surveying his particularly disappointing subjects. His massive orange form took up the entire seat, fur shimmering with residual magic from her mother's latest "enhanced" cat food experiment.
"Baozi needs his premium supplements," her mother insisted, reaching for a can of what claimed to be 'Spiritually Aligned Feline Fortune Formula.' "The feng shui consultant said his chi was misaligned last week."
"Mother," Caera said with the patience of someone who'd had this argument a thousand times, "he's fat because you keep feeding him magical steroids."
Baozi's tail flicked with imperial disdain.
"I need air," Caera announced, grabbing her bag. "And coffee. From somewhere that doesn't have talking cups."
"At least take some of the new tea thermoses!" her mother called after her. "They sing traditional opera when the temperature is perfect!"
Caera was already halfway down the marble staircase, the jade sphere a comforting weight in her designer bag. Behind her, she could hear her father's voice drifting from his workshop: "What if we made chopsticks that calculate your zodiac compatibility with your dinner companions?"
A particularly loud mrrow suggested Baozi had opinions about being left behind. When she turned, he had somehow materialized at the foot of the stairs, his substantial girth defying several laws of physics and possibly some local ordinances.
"Fine," she sighed. "But we're not taking the magical cat carrier."
Her mother's voice floated down: "But it has built-in feng shui stabilizers!"
The front door couldn't close fast enough. Outside, Shanghai's morning air hit her face like a splash of sanity. Baozi waddled beside her with the dignity of a minor emperor, his fur catching the sunlight and throwing off tiny sparkles – a side effect of whatever "celestial alignment supplements" her mother had mixed into his breakfast.
They made it three blocks before her phone buzzed with a WeChat notification from her mother: "New prototype just finished! Chopsticks that play guzheng music based on your eating speed!!!"
"I'm being punished," Caera told Baozi. "Some ancestor is definitely laughing at me right now."
Baozi's expression suggested he was also laughing at her, just more judgmentally.
The café she chose was as far from her family's idea of "innovative dining" as possible – no magical gadgets, no fortune-telling flatware, just decent coffee and normal, blessedly silent tableware.
Chaos at the Café
Three blocks later, they reached a café free of her family's magical chaos. She'd barely sat down when Eugene Kao burst in like an anime protagonist arriving ten episodes too early.
"HOLY MOTHER OF ANIME, SHE'S LITERALLY AN S-TIER WAIFU! Wait, is that a magical cat? THIS CAFÉ HAS EVERYTHING!"
The shout shattered the morning calm like a brick through feng shui consultation. Caera turned just in time to witness premium brown sugar boba creating an expanding catastrophe across what had been an immaculate table setting. At its center, sprawled with theatrical flair, was Eugene Kao
– who should, by all rights, still be in Taiwan.
"CAERA!" Eugene's voice shattered the peaceful ambiance like a badly dubbed sound effect. His designer jacket sparkled as he gestured wildly toward the barista. "Did you know your uniform is straight out of episode 12 of My Magical Café Adventure? No? Can I get your WeChat to discuss it?"
The barista's frozen expression spoke volumes. Baozi's mrrow of disapproval suggested Eugene was about to be disowned by all felines everywhere.
"Eugene," Caera said, resisting the urge to fling her coffee at him, "why are you here?"
"Research!" Eugene declared, dropping into the chair across from her with enough force to shake the table. "I heard Shanghai has an underground network of magical tunnels, ancient artifacts, and divine beasts. Oh, and the boba shops here are legendary. Priorities, you know?"
Baozi flicked his tail in disdain, and Caera briefly considered letting the cat handle Eugene's nonsense. "We are not talking about boba."
"We're always talking about boba," Eugene countered, producing a cup of brown sugar milk tea from seemingly nowhere. "Speaking of which, do you think magical artifacts can enhance tapioca texture? Like, would a spirit-infused pearl summon a minor deity? Asking for a friend."
Before Caera could banish him with a spell, Eugene leaned forward, eyes glittering with unholy glee. "Also, I may or may not have found a tunnel entrance near Lin Yu's new place. Hypothetically."
"You followed me into another country to talk about magical tunnels?"
"Well," Eugene said, grinning, "that, and because the maid café aesthetics here are S-tier."
Bubble Tea Warfare
Later that day, in the dim glow of an underground chamber, Caera and Eugene stood before an altar inscribed with glowing runes. Baozi lounged nearby, radiating judgment.
"This is exactly like chapter 347 of Secret Cultivation Arts of a Modern City!" Eugene exclaimed, pulling out his phone to document the moment. "Do you think they'll turn this into a live-action adaptation?"
"Focus," Caera snapped, holding the jade sphere that pulsed faintly in her hand. "If we trigger the wrong energy pattern, we could —awaken a divine beast and start a mystical showdown? Perfect. Just like episode 15 of—"
A low rumble interrupted him as mist coalesced into the shimmering form of a qilin. Its antlers glowed with ancient energy, and its gaze carried millennia of wisdom—or annoyance. Eugene's gasp was so loud it probably echoed back to the surface.
"OH MY GOD, IT'S JUST LIKE—"
"Eugene!" - Caera hissed.
The qilin regarded them both with a look that could only be described as done. "Are you here to restore balance," it rumbled, "or ruin my day?"
Before Caera could respond, Eugene stepped forward, holding out a pack of premium boba pearls like an offering. "Great Divine Guardian," he said solemnly, "would you like a taste of humanity's finest creation?"
The qilin blinked, then snorted in disbelief as it turned to Caera. "I assume this one isn't your chosen champion?"
Baozi's mrrow echoed in agreement, and for once, Caera had nothing to say.