Dinner was dumplings in the traditional sense.
Dough wrappers stuffed with fresh shrimp filling, meat, mushroom meat patties—dumplings so normal they could not have been more normal.
After enjoying the dumplings her little sister had made, Jiang Han yawned and lounged on the sofa, swinging her legs back and forth. Sometimes her heels bumped together; other times, her legs formed an inward-facing V, her toes touching before drifting apart again.
For witches, dinner was equivalent to lunch.
As for clearing the dishes, all they needed was a flick of their wands, and two Mage Hands swiftly took care of it.
Meanwhile, Miss Jiang Zhenling had conjured six octopus tentacles in the kitchen. With three bottles of detergent, two dishcloths, and a specially made dragon-oil soap, they scrubbed the bowls, basins, pots, and utensils clean, while she herself held The Mad Witch of the Tenius Mountains in both hands and read without the slightest strain.
A witch's life—easy, convenient, and grotesquely warped... Jiang Han looked at those octopus tentacles with a hint of fear.
Any creature with a female appearance must never let her guard down around tentacles.
Jiang Han shivered again, a frozen image flashing through her mind. She pulled her legs onto the sofa and curled herself up, staring at her little sister.
That gaze was so obvious, so fearful, that Jiang Zhenling put down her book and glanced at her. Her lips pressed together before she picked the book back up.
"..." Jiang Han silently stared, grabbing a pillow beside her and hugging it to her chest.
"...Fine, Han." Jiang Zhenling had grown impatient under that stare. Closing her book, she sighed and asked, "Is there something you want to say?"
Jiang Han nodded.
"Those tentacles... your spell, is it tentacles?"
"Tentacles..." Jiang Zhenling fell silent for a