Chapter 69: Bad Woman (Part Two)
Jima bit into a small cake a few times before alleviating the discomfort of witnessing someone eat chili peppers.
After the brief turmoil, Jenna was the first to speak, addressing George:
“George, it’s been a long time since I’ve made you a meal myself.”
George, holding the remaining small cake, froze in the air, looking at the dish emanating a faint white glow. His expression became serious and focused, as if facing a Minotaur wielding a heavy axe.
“You made this?”
“George,” Jenna smiled, “I know my cooking used to be terrible, but that’s not the case anymore. My half-elf teacher has taught me all the skills he knows. His culinary abilities are so impressive that the Demon King Jima even risked kidnapping him to force him to teach.”
“Right, right, right.” Jima, holding a cat, also smiled kindly at George, saying, “George, don’t you feel that you can now use your extraordinary abilities in the Dream Palace? You can discern the truth of her words, so go ahead and have a bite.”
Jenna wore a gentle smile, looking at George eagerly. Jima, with the cat cradled in her arms, rubbed the cat’s neck, her face showing an innocent smile. Meanwhile, Eve Frostleaf silently chewed the super spicy cake.
George picked up his knife and fork, the knife resting on the spiced venison. This dish had great significance for Jenna. She remembered the day when Jima easily defeated her using this very dish.
But now things were different.
“Wait.” George looked at Jima, “Is it really good?”
“Hey George, you’re hurting Jenna’s feelings like this,” Jima said. “Even if you have questions, you should ask Jenna.”
“If you hadn’t encouraged me to eat, I wouldn’t have hesitated so much,” George replied, “Plus, you finished the cake first and didn’t touch the dish at all.”
“George,” Jenna still wore a gentle smile, but the silver fork in her hand had visibly deformed, “I hope you can take the first bite, okay?”
“Right, right.” Jima chimed in, “This was made for you by your fiancée with great effort.”
Eve Frostleaf, looking serious, became curious at the situation. She examined the dish on the silver plate closely; it was visually appealing in every literal sense, both in presentation and aroma, comparable to the dishes meticulously prepared by dedicated palace chefs.
But George looked so serious, as if there were two black dragons coiled on the silver plate.
Taking a deep breath, George said, “I hope after eating this, I can apologize to you, Jenna.”
He speared the fork into another plate of meat, which was creamy and seemed expertly stewed. Taking a bite released a strange fusion of creaminess, nutmeg, and half-cooked rosemary that hit him squarely in the forehead.
As he chewed, a bitter charred taste spread across his tongue, enriching the flavor complexity.
George found himself unable to describe this flavor with any words. It was not the taste of raw bugs, or swallowing foot skin, or eating spoiled bread, but the horror was enough to rival those three tastes.
He began to reflect on his life, thinking how he had never encountered such a taste before. Jenna surprised him once more, combining familiar and mundane flavors to create something indescribable.
Jenna watched him expectantly. Jima looked cheerful, her golden eyes shining with mischief.
He couldn’t spit it out…
George, being a gifted individual in the Hall of Justice, restrained himself from breaking the order—even at the table. He forced himself to keep chewing the meat.
Once, twice, three times, the juices flowed, and for the first time, George wished there were less juice, and finally, he managed to swallow it.
Jenna asked eagerly, “How is it?”
“It’s edible.”
“And how does it compare to what Jima makes?” Jenna asked hopefully, “What’s the difference?”
“There’s a difference.” George replied, “It’s normal; Jima’s culinary skills are the best I’ve ever seen.”
A look of relief spread across Jenna’s face, and she seemed to brighten, akin to flowers blooming towards the sun.
She said, “I’ve finally stepped out of the shadow of my inner demons.”
“Ugh.” The usually elegant Eve Frostleaf actually spat it out. She covered her mouth with a tissue, expelling half the food remnants. “Disgusting.”
“What?”
Eve Frostleaf turned to Jenna and said, “It’s very bad, comparable to the poison made by Duruzhi.”
Jenna looked at Eve Frostleaf.
“You are fully exploiting George’s love and tolerance for you, shoving inedible food into his mouth. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but you are so self-satisfied, forcing him to swallow the revolting food again and again.” Eve Frostleaf wiped her mouth and said, “You’ve been self-indulgent; I don’t really think you love him that much.”
Eve Frostleaf paused, initially thinking Eve Frostleaf was being malicious, but soon felt she wasn’t that kind of person and looked at George, asking, “Is it bad?”
George nodded.
“Forgive my rudeness.” Eve Frostleaf rarely spoke so much, “I have business to attend to, so I’ll take my leave first.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she got up, turned around, and her long silver ponytail brushed over the chair back as she took a few steps, almost exiting the dining room.
“Hold on.” Jima raised her hand, and the door in front of Eve Frostleaf closed.
Eve Frostleaf turned back, her eyes icy.
Jima sat back in her chair, the cat resting on her lap, one hand gently stroking the orange cat, her face no longer sporting a flattering smile. Composed and calm, she seemed nothing like Jenna’s “official” companion; rather, it was Jenna, now emotionally unstable, who appeared more like a sidekick.
“Regarding the question of love… Jenna’s actions are at most attempted poisoning…”
Jenna covered her face, unable to look at anyone.
“..and you, however, are committing murder.”
George asked, “What on earth happened?”
“Wait until I finish, George.” Jima maintained a boss-like posture and said, “I asked your maid; this task was something you insisted on doing solely to see George. The Elf Queen, your birth mother, strongly opposed it, but couldn’t stop you…”
Eve Frostleaf interjected, “Please don’t spread rumors; Her Majesty the Queen and I share no blood relation.”
“George? True or false?”
“I promised to keep her secret.”
“Doesn’t matter; I figured out the truth long ago.” Jima pinched the ear of the Lianxi cat and said, “You high elves like to play the game of ‘as long as I refuse to admit it, then it doesn’t exist.’ But the fact is, even if you shout that every day from childhood until the grave, it won’t change the truth….”
“Or rather, the Elf Queen would never let you date George, sleep with him, or marry him.”
Eve Frostleaf, with a cold tone, firmly lifted her chin: “I’m just a normal comrade; we’re friends.”
“You may continue to kid yourself; I don’t need your admission.” Jima said, “The problem is the Elf Queen wouldn’t see it that way. As your maid reports information to her… the proud high elves will never accept your relationship with George; your status is too high.”
“When the barbs are aimed at George, what about you? Enjoying the thrill of dating a ‘short-lived species’ while reciting ‘self-deceiving phrases,’ letting George bear all the risks? When the risks come crashing down on him, he will still be kept in the dark.”
Eve Frostleaf said, “I—”
“Enough, don’t interrupt me.” Jima spun her stick and dealt the final blow to the couple, “Either admit you like George right now and want to be a mistress so we can all face the storms together, or cut off all ambiguity now, clearly stating to George that I will never date you, and publicly clarify the rumors.”
“Why be a mistress?”
“First come, first served. One, two…” Jima raised her index finger towards Eve Frostleaf, “Three.”
The mistress comment was intentionally made by Jima. Although Eve Frostleaf was a bastard, her parents treated her well and she grew up in privilege, with an education that led her to truly believe that high elves were superior.
How could she become a “short-lived species’ mistress?”
Is there anything more stable than this?
The scene fell silent, a cold wind sweeping through.
Eve Frostleaf’s expressionless face, her countenance seemed frozen, lifting her chin high, proud and aloof.
“Jima.” George stood up and said, “You should ask for my opinion.”
Jima raised her hand and said, “Sit down; matters of the harem are decided democratically within the harem.”
George stared at Jima and said, “Even so, it concerns me.”
Scumbag! Shouldn’t you feel guilty and sit quietly in your chair while I handle the situation?
Jima conceded, saying, “Then ask Eve Frostleaf; she’s not stupid or bad. She knows everything.”
“George, I… I’m sorry.”
Both looked over; the previously proud Eve Frostleaf was now looking down. She suddenly turned away, and no one could see her face.
But Jima could see, and she perceived the white emotion representing pain swelling within her.
She must be in tears at this moment.
Hehe, the feeling of breaking up couples is quite satisfying.
Jima scratched the cat’s belly, and the Lianxi cat purred happily.
The door opened before Eve Frostleaf, and she strode away, her silver ponytail disappearing behind the door.
George lifted his foot to chase after her: “Frostleaf…”
“George, that’s her choice, and we must respect it.” Jima said lazily, “I don’t care how many women you have, but… reality isn’t a fairy tale. If this muddle continues, one day a couple of flying Star Dragons might come and roast you.”
George felt lost and sighed, “I feel really bad.”
“It’s okay; it will get better the next day.” Jima stood, patting his shoulder, and smiled: “The most important thing in life is to be happy.”
Saying that, she snapped her fingers merrily, and the door closed.
“Alright, do you still want to eat the dishes I made?”
“Bang!”
A long leg kicked open the door.
A silver figure appeared behind the fallen door; it was Eve Frostleaf, who had turned back. Her face still bore traces of tears as she lifted her chin and resumed her cold arrogance, stepping on the door with one foot, pointing at George and Jima loudly:
“I declare that, although George is of a short-lived species and stupid enough to be played around by succubi, I love him.”
This time, it was Jima who stared at her in shock.
Eve Frostleaf gasped, her cheeks slightly flushed. George stepped forward and tightly embraced her; her head rested on his shoulder, her eyes unable to hold back tears, saying, “I would be willing to be a mistress.”
As she spoke, her long silver leg brushed against George.
Jima was stunned.
Where had her pride and dignity gone?
This was so unfair; something must have gone wrong somewhere.
—
Jima was so bad; after this scene, at the very least, she should showcase her verbal skills.
