Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 804: Hot Dumplings

His words instantly made the cocky grin disappear from Fengʼs delicate lips. She snapped her head in his direction and hissed, ”Stop calling that bastard my ex!! He was my ex-fiancé! The specifics are important! The way you say it sounds like we were more than a forced betrothal that never led to fruition!”

”Hoho. Got it,” Quinlan laughed under his breath at her strong reaction.

After a lot of cute scoffing and pouting, Feng pointed toward a nearby establishment. It was a restaurant made of blackened stone, its sign etched with fiery characters that read ʼAsh-Fed Dumplings.ʼ

”The old guys said this place is a hidden gem.”

Quinlan raised a brow. ”They even gave you restaurant recommendations? These beggars provide one hell of a service.”

”…” Feng looked at him for a few seconds before she sighed with a bit of annoyance visible in her face. ”I think they pitied me. They probably helped me more than my coin was worth to them.”

”Hmm. How nice of them,” Quinlan nodded and patted her shoulder, letting her know she shouldnʼt feel annoyed about receiving the help of strangers. Of course, she flicked his hand away with a second round of scoffs and pouts.

They stepped inside the establishment together. Heat and spice hit their nostrils like a punch. Quinlanʼs first thought was that Blossom wouldʼve thrown one adorable hissy fit if she were here, begging him to choose a different place. She wasnʼt overly good with spicy food.

The scent of roasted chilies, spiced meats, and dumpling broth saturated the air. No one paid them any mind. Outsiders were expected, tolerated… maybe even welcomed.

As they sat down, Quinlan allowed himself a moment of stillness. But even then, his instincts prickled. He quietly looked around, observing the people around him. Despite it being Blossomʼs forte, Quinlan still developed strong instincts when it came to sensing hostiles, or even just being stared at for too long.

Once he was sure no trouble loomed around the corner, he leaned back, comfortably scanning the menu carved into a wooden board hanging on the wall. His primordial brain was helping him out greatly, letting him understand the words even though his conscious mind had no clue what he was looking at.

Feng seemed right at home as well. She pointed out a few dishes with quick jabs of her finger, all while rattling off orders to the waitress, who was a woman in a fiery red cheongsam with smoke-shaped embroidery swirling around her collar.

The waitress jotted it all down without blinking. ”Two servings of Hellfire Dumplings, one Dragonʼs Breath Broth, and a side of Lavaroot Slaw. Thatʼll be six xuán.”

”The same for me,” Quinlan said before he reached into his robes and slapped down a pouch of glinting coins, their loot from the arrogant young masterʼs corpse.

Soon after, steam billowed from a sizzling clay plate dropped on their table. Ten plump dumplings sat in front of each of them like innocent little bombs, each one lightly dusted with a red-gold powder that shimmered like crushed embers.

Feng leaned forward, visibly excited to taste another nationʼs famed cuisine. She picked one up with her chopsticks, blew on it with quite a bit of fanfare, and bit in.

The effect was immediate.

Her pupils dilated.

Her entire spine straightened like someone had just poured lava down her back.

She froze with her chopsticks trembling in the air as her face turned a progressively deeper shade of red, then purple. Her cheeks puffed out like she was holding back something really bad from erupting, lips twitching like they were trying to escape her skull.

Then…

”AAAHHH!!” she shrieked, slapping the table with two fists as steam quite literally puffed from her mouth. ”WHY WOULD ANYONE EAT THIS FOR FUN?!”

A nearby group of diners chuckled knowingly. It seemed that this dumpling place was famous for its spiciness even inside Vulkaris. Quinlan couldnʼt help but wonder if the beggar dudes pranked her by sending such an obviously delicate girl here. Ｒ𝘈N∅฿ÈⱾ

He leaned on his elbow, watching her struggle with the calm detachment of a man whoʼd already buried his soul once or twice. Though there most definitely was a faint smirk on his lips. Seeing this cocky brat humbled amused him greatly. ”You alright?”

Feng slapped her chest, then grabbed a napkin and fanned her face so fast she nearly took flight. ”Itʼs fine! Totally fine!”

The waitress reappeared, looking mildly concerned. ”Would you prefer a milder dish, dear? We recommend that first-time visitors start with Kindling Spice.”

Feng shook her head with all the ferocity of a warrior refusing death. ”Nope. Iʼm good. Absolutely thriving. Bring me… a tankard of ice water. No—snow leaf milk tea. Extra cold.”

”As you wish.”

When the waitress left, Quinlan finally chuckled, biting into his own dumpling. It was hot, sure, but nothing he couldnʼt handle.

”So,” he said, watching Feng blow her runny nose violently into a napkin, ”how old are you?”

”Fourteen,” she sniffled, voice slightly nasally from the assault on her sinuses.

He tilted his head. ”Qi Gathering Stage at fourteen, huh? How good is that?”

The light in her eyes dimmed a little. ”Itʼs… not good. Iʼm average. Maybe below average. Most entitled kids in the inner clans are at the Meridian Opening stage by now. For some reason, I just canʼt get a single one of my core meridians to open… Furthermore, Iʼm not even that good at sword combat despite my trying my best ever since I could walk. Honestly, I donʼt like this whole cultivation business, but Iʼve got no choice in the matter if I want to retain my youthful beauty for a long time before turning into a wrinkly hag.”

There was a beat of silence as Quinlan pondered her words. He appreciated the honesty. Then he asked, ”So why did a supposedly prodigious young master want to marry you?”

Her eyes gleamed like a fuse had just been lit, regaining all her admittedly rather baseless confidence.

”Oh, that?” She sat up straighter, grinning like a fox thatʼd just conned its way into a chicken coop. ”Canʼt you tell, Uncle? Obviously, itʼs because Iʼll become a nation-topping beauty once I grow up and finish developing my overwhelming feminine charms. Most genius cultivators donʼt care to have powerful wives.”

Feng Jiai then scoffed dismissively, ”Theyʼre hedonists who donʼt want to be challenged inside their own homes. Instead, they want pretty wives they can parade around social events and use to decorate their homes. Having an unnaturally gorgeous woman like the future me become your wife is a great way to display a cultivatorʼs status beyond their cultivation stages and combat achievements.”

”Hmm, I see. Pretty understandable. Trophy wives… Iʼll never get these kinds of men. My harem of eight awesome women who are not only the sexiest babes in the world but can also beat the shit out of their enemies are so much hotter.”

Feng Jiai blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then gave Quinlan the kind of long, slow stare usually reserved for broken street lamps and half-sane beggars who claimed to be reincarnated dragons. Her lip twitched.

”This uncle with amnesia really does harbor great delusions,” she muttered under her breath, sipping her snow leaf milk tea in an exaggeratedly slow, pitying way. ”Eight babes? All powerful? All hot? Sure. And Iʼm secretly the Fire Nation Sovereign in disguise, here to reclaim my throne from an evil twin.”

Quinlan only shrugged, smirking as he bit into another dumpling. ”Youʼll believe me eventually.”

”Unlikely,” she huffed. ”I donʼt believe in fairy tales.”

”Me neither.”

She pointed a chopstick at him. ”Eat your dumplings instead of annoying me with your perverted fantasies, Uncle.”

Before Quinlan could offer a witty rebuttal, the restaurantʼs front doors burst open with a clang of brass rings against wood. A thin, wiry man in bright crimson robes stepped inside.

His voice boomed like heʼd rehearsed this announcement for years.

”All young talents! By order of the Red Sun Hall, the sectʼs open recruitment trials will be held today in the town square! Those who wish to join a true path of cultivation, step forward and show your strength! Any wanderers, rogue disciples, or unaffiliated martial artists are welcome to participate!”

There was a low murmur as several diners stirred with interest. Feng wiped her nose one last time and grinned, eyes sparkling.

Quinlan leaned back lazily and sipped his tea.

”Guess itʼs showtime.”