"Oh my gosh, the stud's here again."
"Straight out of a mafia tiktok, god this guy's such a dreamboat."
"Hot, brooding, rich-looking, he's everything I would kill for. You WON'T believe my fantasies of him."
Daniel strode by without so much as a glance towards the gaggle of girls ogling him like he was the next renaissance in hot men. It was expected for the lean, athletic dragon, complimented by the suave, black formal shirt clinging tightly to his body accompanied by the dark-gray formal slacks. His flowing black hair seemed to trail against the nonexistent wind, bedazzling the girls with such gorgeous locks that made him perfect for a shampoo commercial. To top it all off, Daniel's build was every bit the slender yet rugged physique every girl goes gaga for, just the perfect amount of muscle and lack of fat combined.
But just by the way the dragon cast a sideward glance behind him towards the girls, it was evident that he wasn't reciprocating that feeling of arousal or charm to the girls, no.
*It was disgust.*
He hated the way they fantasize over his appearance, his presumed past due to being from China, moreover, the way they make light of such a dangerous, unpredictable job.
Daniel’s claws tapped lightly against the metal of his pocket watch as he walked, his pace steady, with an unreadable expression. The whispers and giggles of the girls behind him were an irritating buzz in his ears, an ever-present reminder of how shallow people could be.
"Stupid."
He cursed under his breath in Mandarin, shaking his head, choosing to tread outside the college campus' verdant grass and onto the concrete sidewalk.
"They have no idea what they’re talking about."
The glorification of the mafia, the way people turned crime into a spectacle, made his stomach churn. If they had seen what he had, lived in the shadows of men who decided life and death over a quiet dinner, they wouldn’t be giggling. They would be afraid.
Let them fantasize. He would never give them the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
He made his way through the campus, his black formal shirt pristine despite the slight heat in the air, the loose strands of his long hair trailing in the breeze. His tall, lean frame moved with an effortless grace, a mixture of precision and restraint.
As he passed the post office, his feet hesitated for a moment, the smallest hitch in his movement before he turned toward the door. It was a habit, one he should have dropped years ago. He stepped inside, his golden eyes scanning the small, quiet room.
The clerk, a short man with tired eyes, recognized him immediately.
"Once again, nothing for you today kid."
Daniel barely reacted, only offering a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking back out. It was the same answer every time.
Of course, there was nothing.
His father was either dead or had buried himself so deep in the underworld that no letter would ever reach him. Either way, the outcome was the same, silence.
He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and forced the thought aside.
His mother needed him at the teahouse. That was his priority now as he headed downtown, ignoring the quaintness of the bustling streets and onto the tiny, ornate shop in the more isolated section of the town.
CLING! CLING!
"下午好! How can I help you?"
Called out the familiar shrill voice of the owner, Ms. Grace Shen, as she names herself.
The teahouse was a quiet refuge from the outside world, tucked away on a less-traveled street where the scent of fresh tea leaves and warm spices curled through the air. Its wooden façade was adorned with delicate red lanterns, their soft glow casting a welcoming light against the hand-painted calligraphy sign that read "雅兰茶馆"—Yǎlán Teahouse. Inside, the atmosphere was cozy yet refined, decorated with elegant wooden furniture, porcelain tea sets, and hanging scrolls depicting serene landscapes. The low hum of a guzheng melody played faintly from a speaker in the corner, adding to the tranquil ambiance.
"Ah! Welcome, welcome!"
Grace Shen's voice rang out cheerfully from behind the counter, her hands deftly setting down a steaming basket of dumplings. She wiped her hands on her apron and turned toward the entrance, her warm smile prepared to greet yet another customer—until she recognized the figure standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Daniel, thank goodness"
The moment the hourglass-figured eastern dragon saw her son, her tone shifting from professional hospitality to quiet relief. She sighed softly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her son in a brief but firm embrace.
"Well, now that you're here, clean yourself upstairs. Business is slim today so you can focus on your studies."
She mumbled, caressing her son's cheek before heading back to the counter, serving the couple or so customers waiting patiently nearby.
Daniel nodded curtly, hesitating momentarily before heading up the creaking wooden staircase to do as his mother instructed.
