Chapter 4 First Taste Of Modern Life

• The apartment was silent at night, save for the low hum of the air conditioner. Lena lay in bed, staring at a crack in the ceiling, sleep nowhere in sight. Her shoulder wound pulsed like a tide, the dried blood under the bandage giving off an odd chill, as if something crawled beneath her skin. She cursed under her breath, got up, and poured a glass of water to quell her unease.
• A faint noise came from the living room. Gripping the glass, she crept toward the sound. Kai sat cross-legged on the couch, bathed in moonlight, fiddling with her old wristwatch on the coffee table. The watch had been broken for six months, its hands frozen at three o’clock. She frowned, snapping, “What are you doing? Not sleeping?”
• Kai looked up, flashing a childlike grin, his eyes sparkling. “Lady Lena, this… measures time? I tried to fix it.” His fingers tapped the watch face, gentle as if playing a zither. The hands twitched, moved briefly, then stopped. He frowned, muttering, “Still too little spiritual energy.”
• Lena’s heart skipped. She snatched the watch, staring at the still hands. Rubbing her eyes, she chalked it up to exhaustion. “Don’t touch my stuff,” she said coldly, turning back to her room, her steps a bit unsteady.
• Morning sunlight slipped through the curtain gaps, spilling onto the floor. Lena dragged herself out of bed, dark circles heavy under her eyes. The shoulder wound and Kai’s presence had kept her tossing all night. In the living room, Kai stood on the balcony, staring at a garbage truck below, muttering, “This beast devours objects… a demonic creature?” He’d swapped his robe for last night’s T-shirt, which hung loosely like he was a homeless scholar.
• Lena’s headache throbbed. She grabbed her jacket. “Let’s go. Back to the station.” At the door, she nearly collided with a delivery guy. He handed her a package, glanced at Kai, and muttered, “Your boyfriend? Cosplay’s on point.”
• “Not!” Lena’s face heated as she snatched the package and shoved Kai downstairs. The street buzzed with traffic. Kai gawked at a traffic light, exclaiming, “This light shifts colors… an array?” Lena gritted her teeth, dragging him along, wishing she could vanish into the pavement.
• At a breakfast stall, she bought two steamed buns, tossing one to Kai. He took a bite, eyes lighting up. “This surpasses Great Liang’s flatbread soup!” Oil glistened on his lips. Lena couldn’t help a smile before snapping, “Eat faster. People are staring.”
• Behind them, a black sedan cruised by, its half-open window revealing a pair of cold eyes. Lena didn’t notice, but Kai froze, glancing at the car. His fingers twitched in his sleeve, as if sketching something, then relaxed. He turned, smiling at her. “Lady Lena, any ink and brush today?”
• “Nope!” She glared, pulling him toward the parking lot, adding, “And stop touching my makeup.”
• At the station’s entrance, Lena squinted, her thumb pressing hard against her temple. Exhaustion weighed her eyelids like lead. She touched her shoulder—the skin under the bandage burned.
• A police car pulled up beside her, its door speckled with drying raindrops that glinted in the sun. Kai stood half a step away, his teal robe darkened by last night’s rain, clinging to his lean frame like a soggy burial figurine. Strands of black hair stuck to his pale cheeks, water droplets trembling on his lashes as he blinked.
• “Captain !” Ya’s bright voice called from behind. She jogged over, clutching soy milk and fried dough sticks, her uniform skirt swaying. Her eyes gleamed, scanning Kai like a spotlight. “Last night… everything okay?”
• Lena grabbed Kai’s sleeve, the fabric tearing slightly under her grip. All she wanted was to offload this “ancient troublemaker.” “Not great,” she rasped, dark circles stark under her eyes. “I’m taking him to buy clothes and toiletries. Tell Chief Li I’ll report on the dock case this afternoon.”
• Kai stumbled as she yanked him, his sleeve ripping further. He glanced at the tear, then at Lena, his eyes clear as a mountain stream. “Lady Lena, where are we going?” His voice carried just enough for nearby colleagues to hear.
• Gasps rippled around them. A few young female officers whipped out their phones, camera shutters clicking. Lena overheard a whisper: “That’s the cosplay nut from last night? His costume’s too authentic…”
• Lena dropped his sleeve, pointing at his outfit. “Keep wearing that, and tomorrow we’re trending: ‘Shock! Local Station Houses Time Traveler, Ancient Taoist Reborn!’”
• Kai blinked, clueless about “trending,” but caught the disdain in her tone. He smoothed his sleeve, his fingers brushing the tear. A faint golden glow flickered—unseen—and faded. The tear stayed. He sighed, muttering, “This realm’s spiritual energy is so thin…”
• Ya stifled a laugh, snapping three photos of Kai’s profile. Lena shot her a death glare, yanked Kai’s arm, and shoved him into the car. Behind them, Ya’s excited voice message played: “Mom! We’ve got a historical drama hunk at the station. Better than TV! Want pics?”
• Half an hour later, Lena dragged Kai into a sprawling department store supermarket on the mall’s first floor. The fluorescent lights made him squint, his curiosity like a kid’s, stopping to gape at everything.
• “This…” His fingers trembled as he touched a plastic toothbrush, then jerked back as if burned. “What is this? So precise?” He turned to Lena, eyes gleaming with questions. “A device from the Thousand Mechanism Pavilion?”
• Lena tossed a towel into the cart, not looking up. “Toothbrush. For brushing teeth.” She paused, adding, “Twice daily. Keeps your mouth clean.”
• Kai nodded thoughtfully, but his gaze locked onto an electric toothbrush. He picked it up, accidentally hitting the switch. It buzzed to life, nearly flying from his hand. “It moves on its own!” he yelped, voice tinged with panic. “Some kind of… sorcery?”
• “Shut up.” Lena snatched the toothbrush, tossing it back on the shelf, and pushed the cart forward. A few steps later, she noticed Kai hadn’t followed. He stood in the snack aisle, flipping a bag of potato chips like it was a puzzle.
• The bag crinkled in his hands, his brow furrowed as if facing a cosmic riddle. “So light, yet it holds mysteries?” He looked at Lena, eyes innocent as a lost kitten.
• “Potato chips. Food.” Lena grabbed the bag, tossed it in the cart. “Can you stop acting like—”
• Before she finished, Kai grabbed another bag, tore it open, and cautiously popped a chip in his mouth. His cheeks puffed as he chewed, eyes widening. “Crispy, salty!” he exclaimed, loud enough to echo through the store. “This surpasses—”
• “Shut it!” Lena lunged, clamping a hand over his mouth, glancing around. Luckily, the morning crowd was thin, with only an old lady casting a curious look. Lena hissed, “Make a scene again, and you’re sleeping under a bridge tonight.”
• Kai’s lips pursed, looking wronged, but he trailed behind her. In the clothing section, a T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur caught his eye. His fingers brushed the design, confusion mixing with curiosity. “This auspicious beast… a variant of the pixiu? Why so… plump?”
• Lena’s temple throbbed. She shoved a plain loungewear set into his arms. “Try it on over there.”
• Five minutes later, a ripping sound came from the fitting room. Lena yanked the curtain open. Kai was wrestling with the shirt’s collar, his long hair tangled in a button, the neckline torn.
• “Don’t move!” She pinned his shoulders, untangling him with frantic precision. Up close, she caught a faint sandalwood scent mixed with the freshness of rain. It stirred a memory of childhood temple visits with her grandmother.
• “This garment… so restrictive,” Kai muttered, twisting his neck, clearly unused to modern clothes after his flowing robes.
• Lena rolled her eyes. “Get used to it.” She glanced at him in the navy loungewear—his pale skin and cascading black hair made him look like he’d stepped out of an ink painting, jarringly out of place.
• “Let’s go.” She grabbed his collar, pushing the loaded cart toward checkout.
• The cashier, a purple-haired girl chewing gum, scrolled her phone. Lena unloaded items onto the conveyor. Kai suddenly grabbed her wrist.
• “Lady Lena,” he whispered, staring at the cashier’s scanner, “that woman’s device captures the soul of objects! That red light—surely an evil art!”
• Lena shook him off. “It’s a barcode scanner. Stop it.”
• “Bar… code?” Kai studied a product’s barcode, pupils narrowing. “These strange patterns, crisscrossing… a sealing spell?”
• Lena ignored him, piling items on the belt. When the cashier scanned a milk carton, Kai’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.
• “Hold!” he barked. “It’s already been soul-captured! Don’t move it!”
• The cashier’s gum fell out. “What the hell?”
• Chaos erupted. Shoppers turned, some pulling out phones to record. Lena lunged, twisting Kai’s wrist with a practiced police hold. He winced but kept staring at the milk. “Lady Lena! If it’s soul-captured again, it’ll spawn evil spirits—”
• “It’s milk! Pasteurized!” Lena growled in his ear. “One more stunt, and I’m cuffing you to the station bathroom!”
• Kai blinked, confused. “Past… eurized?”
• After flashing her badge and a string of apologies, Lena got the manager to let them check out. Outside, she carried bulging bags, her face like thunder. Kai trailed behind, clutching the “soul-captured” milk, looking as innocent as a scolded golden retriever.
• “Lady Lena…” he ventured, “that ‘scanner’… truly not a soul-capturing device?”
• Lena took a deep breath, resisting the urge to dump him on the curb. “It’s modern tech.” She paused, squinting at him. “You don’t even know what a phone is, do you?”
• He shook his head honestly.
• Lena facepalmed, realizing she’d taken on a task tougher than a serial killer case. She pulled out her phone, typing in her notes: Lesson One—Basic Modern Tech.
• Sunlight bathed them, casting two shadows—one sharp and brisk, the other long and flowing. Like silhouettes from different eras, they overlapped oddly in the ordinary morning light.