Takashimoto Shizuka’s eyes were opened wide as she looked carefully at the youngster before her from up close. Her chin was held as he stuffed something that tasted weird into her mouth.
The Japanese flight attendant’s cheeks gave a hint of a blush.
She became somewhat panicky and shrank backward, slipping away from Chen Xiaolian’s grasp. Then, she spoke out in a nervous whisper, “You… Your Imperial Highness, that’s… too rude…”
“Enough, I am not some Prince,” said Chen Xiaolian who waved his hand.
“Not a… Prince?”
Takashimoto Shizuka stared at Chen Xiaolian.
“Mm. To begin with, I am not even a Japanese. Your Japanese Imperial Highness, that shitty Prince… could he be as smart as me? Could he be better at fighting than me? If the real Prince did come here, he would probably have wet his pants long ago.”
Chen Xiaolian noticed that Takashimoto Shizuka’s forehead was no longer bleeding. It seemed that the spicy bar had begun to go to work.
