Chapter 876 – Do Not Question My Liquidity

Ten minutes passed.

And if dragon palaces taught Yue anything, it was that ten minutes in a corridor felt like a day in a museum, but ten minutes in a hungry room felt like the last five seconds before a dam bursts. She and Liang re-entered the eastern dining suite to find Lux’s entourage orbiting a battlefield strewn with half-dissected dim-sum baskets. Dumplings had been used as examples, metaphors, and at least once a missile in Sira’s explanatory hand gestures.

Yue paused on the threshold, chessboard underarm, cataloguing the tableau.

Rava was mid-explanation of kraken futures, Ely had converted two elders into fans of sustainable elven forestry swaps, Lullaby was napping upright with a bao as a potential pillow, and Naomi taped dragon calligraphy to her phone for instant translation.

Lux sat at the center, jacket off, sleeves rolled, golden teacup gleaming beside him like a "Do Not Question My Liquidity" trophy.

Yue cleared her throat. Soft, polite, but the room’s attention pivoted instantly.

She raised a brow. "Not starting brunch without me?"

Lux’s grin aimed straight at her sternum. "Course not, polite devils wait for ladies."

Sira snorted. "Correction: polite dragons were busy interrogating Economist Lucifer here about Hell’s black-swans."

A bespectacled elder nodded, clutching a bamboo pad. "He gave us remarkable insight regarding sin-indexed bonds."

Liang clapped twice, a crisp command that snapped every retainer into motion. "Enough theory. Let us eat."

Sliding doors blossomed open. Servants glided in perfect formation, setting new dishes. Translucent shrimp har-gow steaming like tiny moons, lotus-leaf rice parcels fragrant with star anise, lacquer jugs of pale jade wine, slightly hazy, the scent equal parts plum blossom and warm pepper.

Lux lifted his gold cup but paused, eyebrow arched. "Different fermentation."

Liang smiled thinly. "Ancestral dragon wine, brewed in sealed mountain caverns. Potent, but polite."

Naomi whispered, "Polite booze?" and immediately poured two fingers.

Yue set the chessboard carefully at the table’s edge, slipped into the empty seat at Lux’s right. Warmth bled down her spine just from proximity. The man radiated trouble like a brazier.

Lux leaned close enough that his jacket brushed her sleeve. "Everything squared with the grand-ex-grandson?"

"Grandson times nine," she murmured back, enjoying the flicker of humor in Lux’s eyes. "He’s agreed to ’new math.’"

"Good." He tapped his cup to hers, porcelain to gold, then rose slightly, catching the room’s current.

Liang rose. "A toast to the ancestor’s forever-return and to you, Mr. Vaelthorn. Protect her well."

"I will," Lux said, no joke, no quip, just raw certainty. Yue felt it click into place like a key meeting a lock.

Cups met in a crystalline chorus. The wine bit delicate, like lightning disguised as honey. Lullaby actually blinked awake, murmured "spicy cloud," then drifted off again.

Food flow engaged. Chopsticks darted. Dragon elders attempted small talk with devils about cross-plane tariff harmonization.

Lux fielded questions while building Yue’s plate. Two shrimp dumplings, one char-siu bao, measured dab of chili oil, he’d paid attention to last meal’s preferences. The gesture warmed her more than the wine.

Sira, meanwhile, was explaining to a horrified junior elder how Pride hedges reputational futures by sponsoring infernal e-sports.

Ely negotiated a seed exchange program.

Yue watched, amused. It struck her that this chaotic cluster, kraken, elf, devil, half-coma sloth, fit here better than the antiques in her old room. Culture evolved. So would she.

Lux nudged her elbow. "Try the lotus rice. You look like you need carbohydrates to spite ancient ghosts."

"Medical advice from Greed’s heir," she deadpanned, but took a bite. Star anise and childhood memory mingled on her tongue, she refused to tear up over rice.

Liang sipped wine, eyes tracking the room like a stockbroker watching tickers.

The conversation was light. Mostly the elders gave update to Yue about what happened after she left. Or what the disaster they fought before the dragon clan rose again.

The brunch ended. Dishes stacked like dim-sum Jenga, the lazy Susan spun one last slow revolution, and the air sagged with that pleasant, overeaten serenity unique to successful diplomacy and too much jasmine wine.

Yue set her cup down and rose, silk whispering. "Elders, thank you for the meal. I need to return now."

Liang stood as well, the ripple of elders following him looked choreographed. "Ancestor, allow us one final sign of respect, three kowtows to honor your return."

She lifted both hands in immediate refusal. "Absolutely not." The room froze mid-bow prep. "Five hundred years gone and the first thing I receive is a floor-dive?"

An elder with jade spectacles cleared his throat nervously. "It is custom. Some of us have practiced our kneeling posture for decades..."

Across the table, Sira stage-whispered, "I vote yes. It’s something a Pride loves."

Lullaby half-snorted awake.

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose. "It seems inefficient. We are in a different era."

Liang clasped his hands, earnest. "Ancestor, the gesture is for us, not you. We beg you to allow it once."

She hesitated, legacy versus practicality, and sighed. "Fine. One kowtow. Single. Collective."

Elders brightened like kids given an extra dumpling.

Lux leaned sideways, murmuring, "You just granted every dragon here a new bragging right."

Yue elbowed him lightly. "Let them face-plant in peace."

The elders shuffled into orderly rows on the floor. Liang at the front, dignified, though his knees cracked suspiciously. A servant produced a lacquer kneeling cushion.

Liang inhaled. "Clan of Xianlong, offer thanks to Ancestor Yue!"

Palms pressed floor, foreheads touched floor. A unified exhale filled the cedar hall, warm, reverent, dust-mote gentle. Even Sira’s smirk faded, replaced by a quiet respect one didn’t often see on a Pride scion.

Yue watched, expression unreadable at first, then something softened around her eyes, a warmth Lux recognized from late-night chess scenarios and half-stolen smiles.

The elders rose, slow but triumphant. Liang bowed from the waist, voice relieved. "Our hearts settle, honored Ancestor."

"Your hearts will settle faster with hot compresses," Yue quipped, but her tone was fond. "Thank you."

She turned to leave.

Lux fell into step beside her. Behind them, elders murmured satisfaction, servants cleared plates, and Liang’s chuckle followed their retreat.