The Phoenix I Almost Boiled

I cooked the man I slept with last night. To be precise, by morning he'd turned into a featherless chicken, left behind in my room.

I was unemployed and broke, so I took him for groceries that had delivered themselves.

The pot had barely heated up when the bullet comments told me he was a phoenix—and that I was carrying his babies: five eggs I was about to let rot before they ever hatched.

My hand jerked, and I fished the featherless chicken out of the pot in record time. "Let me ask you something." It barely lifted its eyelids, more dead than alive. "Do you know how to hatch eggs?" Before it could answer, I'd already given it an out. "If you don't, that's fine too.

Once the eggs come out, I'll make egg fried rice. That way nothing goes to waste." The next second, Rhys Townsend, who had wanted nothing but to die, jerked his head up.

Chapter 1 I held up the steaming featherless chicken I'd boiled and looked it over from every side.

Its eyes were blank, half open and half shut, with the air of a dead bird that boiling water couldn't scare. Every last feather had been plucked clean. That's it? A phoenix?

For a second, I'd almost thought it was compensation left behind by the man who'd kept me busy most of the night. When I woke up that morning, I'd even felt guilty for two seconds.

After all, I was the one who'd slept with him, so by rights I should be the one paying. And what did he do? He left a plump chicken, and we were square.

I'd been laid off just the day before. All because I'd turned down my boss's sleazy proposition.

He hadn't just kicked me out of the company—he'd weaseled out of every cent of my severance, too. I was so furious I went straight to a bar that night, meaning to drown my sorrows.

I never expected that someone had already spiked my drink. I didn't remember much of what came after—only the hallway lights swimming until I was dizzy, and a man catching me.

The battle was fierce. The action was heated. But right then, a line of bullet comments drifted eerily across my vision and doused my hangover completely. [So sad.

The second male lead is literally a phoenix, and after the female lead turned him down, he hated himself so much he plucked himself into a naked chicken.] [He doesn't want to live anyway, but you can't let this random extra roast him like some wild bird, right?] [Here's the big part: the extra is super fertile.

One night, and she's carrying five phoenix eggs.

And not only does she boil the babies' daddy like a wild chicken, she doesn't know how to hatch eggs, so five oneofakind immortal eggs end up rotting.] My hand jerked, and I almost dropped the chicken on the floor.

So I was just an extra in a romance novel, and the man I'd slept with last night was the book's second male lead, Rhys Townsend.

The richest man in Halbrook, a regular in online headlines—the Mr. Townsend everyone called the GoldMedal Simp.

He had his one who got away, the girl he could never have: Sierra Keller. I'd followed their melodrama while slacking off on my lunch breaks. Stuff like Mr.

Townsend standing in the rain for twelve hours out of lovesick penance, a crown worth a fortune appearing out of nowhere on Miss Keller's vanity, and—most outrageous of all—when Miss Keller nicked her skin with nail clippers, Rhys booked out an entire private hospital, with even the nurses in the hallway lined up for her to pick from.

Chapter 2 Back then I'd been chowing down on takeout, sighing that even rich people couldn't escape the pain of love. Who knew he wasn't even human?

He was a phoenix—the legendary kind that rises from the ashes. I poked the featherless chicken lying limp on the floor.

Its skin twitched faintly, as if even the strength to lift its eyelids was used up. "Do you know how to hatch eggs?" Its eyelid twitched.

I crouched down and looked at it earnestly. "Here's the thing. I don't have much egghatching experience.

If you don't know how either, then once the eggs come out, I'll just have to fry them into egg fried rice and make a meal of it." The words had barely left my mouth when the featherless chicken sprang up. "What did you say?!" Bullet comments: [Wait!

Did the extra unlock some third eye?? How does she know the second male lead is a phoenix!] [The only person in the whole show who can spot the real deal has arrived!

Before this, the second male lead turned back into his true form all proud and puffed up to confess to the female lead, and she thought he was a dove, chased him out with a broom, and even worried he'd leave chicken poop everywhere…] [LMAO, the female lead has no idea the one she chased off is a tenthousandyearold phoenix.

The treasure in his cellar could buy three Halbrooks!] Enough money to buy three Halbrooks?

Had heaven finally seen how rough I'd had it—laid off and drugged—and decided to toss me a winning lottery ticket?

I fought hard to keep the corners of my mouth from shooting up, cleared my throat, and put on a serious face. "I might… be carrying your child." Rhys froze. "Years ago my mom had a fortuneteller take a look at me.

The fortuneteller said super fertility runs in our family." "If my parents hadn't passed so young, I'd probably have enough younger siblings for a baseball team by now." The air went quiet for three seconds.

Rhys swallowed. "You… how do you know I'm not human?" I lied to him without blinking. "When you turned back into your true form this morning, I was actually already awake." "I saw it with my own eyes." "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone what you are." "But if you don't want the kid, I won't push.

It was an accident, after all… You go your way, I'll go mine, and forget I said anything about egg fried rice." "It's just that I really don't know how to hatch eggs, and now I've lost my job, and my wallet's cleaner than my face.

Egg fried rice would at least cover one meal… You wouldn't mind, would you?" He suddenly went silent. The bare chicken stood there with its neck cocked, thinking for a long time.

Then, in an instant, he took human form. Rhys stood rooted to the spot, stark naked, his eyes shocked and frantic. "How is that possible?" "How could you be pregnant with my child?

No new phoenix has been born in thousands of years. We can barely have offspring. We're practically extinct." I said, "Then… we wait and see? Or how about a bet?

Let's see which is tougher—your phoenixes' thousandyear extinction streak or my family's hereditary super fertility." Rhys hesitated a moment, got dressed, and took me home.

It was my first time seeing a real, legendary castle. And there it was—a massive castle planted on prime real estate right downtown.

Delivery riders needed GPS once they got inside, and if the nanny and the butler dated, it would count as longdistance.

I tipped my head back to count the windows and counted until my neck ached without finishing. Sure enough, in the world of the rich, even the AC units outnumbered everyone else's.

When the butler came out to greet us and heard Rhys say I might be carrying his child, the old man's tears came on cue: "In my lifetime… I've lived to see the Townsend line continue!

At long last, fortune has smiled on this house!" Chapter 3 He wiped his tears and gave me a trembling bow, one step short of lighting incense and putting me on an altar.

I tugged Rhys's sleeve and lowered my voice. "Is he a phoenix too?" Rhys didn't even look up. "No… freerange chicken." I fell silent.

No wonder, the first time I saw the butler, my brain had automatically served up fried chicken, roast chicken, Buffalo wings, chicken pot pie, chicken and dumplings… The menu played on loop until my stomach growled.

Bullet comments: [Finally this extra gets a taste of the good life! In the original plot, she was supposed to end up homeless and get hit by a car.] [Look at this clueless bumpkin.

First time living in a castle and she wants milk baths, gets carsick in a sports car, and makes the second male lead learn to ride an ebike to pick her up! Mr.

Townsend has never touched ebike handlebars in his life!] [What I can't stand most is that when she eats out, she actually whips out her phone for Groupon deals!

Eats omakase and complains raw fish gives her the runs, and when she's still hungry she has the nerve to order a bowl of egg fried rice on top.

The second male lead heard the words "egg fried rice" and went white on the spot.] I pursed my lips. So what? Raw stuff just gives me the runs. Sports cars just make me carsick.

What's so funny about that? Ebikes were great—easy to charge, no gas.

I'd splurged on seven of them, one in every color of the rainbow, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, and rode a different one each day.

Lined up in a row, they looked way cooler than a sports car. How did that not count as big spending?

Rhys stood at the floortoceiling window, watching me dust off the seven ebikes one by one on the lawn, silent for a long time.

The butler came over carrying a small tureen of bone broth and muttered, "Young master, this Miss Goodwin… her style seems a bit unusual… Doesn't she know you're filthy rich?" Rhys didn't turn around. "This is how she acts after finding out." The butler sighed with feeling. "Miss Goodwin truly loves you, young master.

She's even thinking of saving you money." Bullet comments: [LMAO, when the second male lead brought Sierra to see the castle, she complained the feng shui was bad, there weren't enough servants, the pool wasn't big enough.

And this girl is out on the lawn numbering her ebikes and saying she's going to name every one of them.] [If the second male lead rides one of those out, people will think he's gone broke.] I finished wiping down the seventh one, straightened up, and waved at Rhys through the window.

He stood there with the light behind him, his expression impossible to make out. I figured seeing me buy seven ebikes at once had him heartsick over the money.

I yelled, "What do you want for dinner tonight?

I got a Groupon for a hot pot place—a fourperson set for just $79.99, plenty for the two of us!" Rhys said nothing. Word got around online that Sierra Keller had officially cut Rhys Townsend out of the running.

The reason: he'd gone bankrupt. The rumor came with plenty of convincing detail, plus a photo a passerby had snapped.

Rhys riding a pink ebike, a togo cup of banana pudding in the basket, spacing out at a red light and then sailing straight through it.

A traffic cop raised a hand, pulled him over, and wrote him a $100 ticket.

In the photo, his clothes were rumpled, his hair was blown into a mess by the wind, and his eyes were empty.

The internet exploded, and the comments were a flood of tears: [OMG how did Mr.

Townsend end up doing food delivery?] [A hundred degrees out and delivering in long sleeves, that's rough…] [Miss Keller doesn't want him, and even the heavens don't pity him.] Scrolling on my phone, looking at how lost and wretched he was in that photo, I felt a jolt in my chest, and I quietly canceled my order for the latestmodel ebike.

Chapter 4 Bullet comments: [LMAO, actually the second male lead got the news that Sierra and the male lead were engaged, and he spaced out and ran the red light.

Nothing to do with delivering food.] [It's all the extra's fault! She just had to have Lottie's banana pudding, and write a good review to get a free cup of iced lemonade! Mr.

Townsend has never waited in line for a bite of food in his life.] [The thing is, doesn't she know the second male lead makes ten million a day?

Making the richest man in Halbrook ride an ebike under the blazing sun for banana pudding, and write a good review for the freebie??] Ten million a day?

I quietly set my phone down and did the math on my fingers. Ten million, one day. One month was three hundred million. One year… my brain couldn't quite keep up.

But the bullet comments had said I was carrying five. Phoenix eggs, immortal babies at that. Precious little things that hadn't been born in thousands of years.

Who knew how much it cost to raise one phoenix? What if they had to drink dew, eat lingzhi mushrooms, and swallow the essence of the sun and moon?

Five of them meant five times the dew, five times the lingzhi, five times the essence of the sun and moon.

And once they were born, there'd have to be five baby welcome parties first, with everyone who's anyone in Halbrook invited. All of that was money. Rhys came back.

I looked down at my belly, then back up at him. He was peeling the lid off the banana pudding, setting out the spoon, and pushing it over to me. His tone was flat. "Eat.

I got the iced lemonade, too." I took the spoon and nodded solemnly. "Thanks for going all that way.

But let me tell you, every bit of hardship we swallow now is for the kids." "What if they turn out to be super expensive? We have to save up.

Save where we should, spend where we should. What's wrong with riding an ebike? Ecofriendly, cheap, and good exercise.

Making ten million a day doesn't mean you can blow money, right?" Rhys said nothing.

Bullet comments: [LMAO, nobody has ever taught the second male lead how to save money in his entire life.] [The extra: So what if you make ten million a day?

There are five little money pits waiting in my belly!] I patted the spot beside me for him to sit. "Stop standing there, eat it while it's cold.

Oh, and this place gives you a free peach cobbler every ten visits.

I've already got three stamps, so you just need to go seven more times." Rhys sat down in silence, picked up the other spoon, took a bite, and forced it down.

After a long moment, he said, "…Okay." A month later, it was finally time to find out whether I was pregnant. I sat on a bench in the hospital hallway, picking at my nails nonstop.

The bullet comments had already spoiled it, but I was still nervous. What if? What if the bullet comments were lying? What if my family's super fertility didn't work on a phoenix?

Rhys sat next to me, head down, gripping his phone. The screen lit up and went dark, went dark and lit up again.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a long time, but in the end he didn't press anything. He just flipped the phone over and set it face down on his knee.

Bullet comments: [Last night the female lead texted the second male lead to comfort him, saying bankruptcy isn't the end of the world and he needs to get back on his feet, then turned right around and asked which wedding dress looked better…] [The second male lead hid under the covers and cried all night, and he plucked out every last one of the few feathers he'd finally grown back.] [He's even got the knife ready.

Says if there's no baby, he's killing himself tonight.] No wonder I'd found a feather under the dining table that morning. Pale gold, downy.

I'd thought the freerange chicken butler had shed it. Only now did it hit me—it was his.

Chapter 5 Plucking himself bald at every little thing—if he really ended up a bald phoenix, how ugly would that be? I snuck a glance at Rhys. The rims of his eyes were a little red.

He seemed really heartbroken. If there really were kids, they'd better not inherit his lovesick brain. Forget it. First, let's see if there's anything in my belly at all.

The exam went fast. When the ultrasound probe touched my belly, even the doctor froze.

She counted back and forth three times, then finally sucked in a sharp breath. "Ffive?" Lying on the exam table, staring at the ceiling, I marveled: the bullet comments hadn't lied to me.

When I came out with the ultrasound printout, Rhys was still sitting on the hallway bench, staring blankly at his phone. On the screen, the chat was still lit up.

Sierra had sent him twenty dollars, with the payment note: "Take good care of yourself." He was so moved his eyes had gone wet.

I walked over and held my phone out in front of him. "Send it to me." Rhys looked up, his voice thick. "…What?" "Every cent you make from now on is formula money for the kids." Expressionless, I slapped the ultrasound printout into his hand. "Consider it an advance." He looked down, his gaze landing on the paper, and his eyes went wide in disbelief. "Ffive?" "Mmhm.

Send the money." Rhys opened the transfer screen. His fingers shook so badly it took him three tries to get his passcode right. "How much?" "Your call." He punched in a number.

I glanced down. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands… so many zeros! The whole way back, Rhys kept grinning like an idiot.

He grinned while driving, grinned at red lights, grinned through turns, and didn't even react when the car behind us honked. The butler was already waiting at the door.

The moment he heard "five," his legs gave out and he nearly went down on his knees.

He clung to the door frame, trembling, tears streaming down his face: "Miss Goodwin, what would you like to eat? This old servant shall make it for you this very moment!

Whatever flies in the sky, runs on the land, or swims in the water—you need only say the word!" I thought about it seriously. "Roast chicken, fried chicken, chicken pot pie, Buffalo wings… and some egg fried rice, an omelet, egg drop soup…" The butler said nothing.

Neither did Rhys.

Bullet comments: [LMAO, she ordered a whole chicken menu right in front of the freerange chicken butler.] [The butler: I've served the young master for centuries, and this is the first time anyone's put me on the menu.] [The second male lead is kind of shaking at the words "egg fried rice."] Monday morning, I shuffled into the dining room in my slippers and plopped down across from Rhys. "Mr.

Townsend, lend me a lawyer." He set down his coffee cup and looked up at me. "What for?" "To get what I'm owed. That bald jerk of an exboss never paid me a cent of my severance.

It adds up to eight thousand and fifty dollars.

If I spent that on tacos, I could eat them for three months straight without repeating once." Rhys's gaze rested on my face for two seconds.

Then he silently took out his phone and made a call. Less than half an hour later, my phone dinged. I looked down. It was my old company's group chat.

My bald exboss had written me an apology letter, then left the chat.

Right after that, a pinned announcement popped up: Mallory Goodwin has completed the acquisition and is now the sole owner of the company.

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was the boss now? The company wasn't big, fiftysome people all told, but my lunch buddy was still in there!

Chapter 6 That little accountant who split takeout orders with me every day to hit free delivery, who trashtalked our bald boss while we ate—I missed her like crazy.

Now it was perfect. I could go back to work, fair and square. And not just go back to work—I could sign off on afternoon snacks for her, too.

Overjoyed, I came around the table, threw my arms around Rhys, and planted a big smacking kiss on his cheek. The coffee in Rhys's hand sloshed and nearly spilled.

He froze on the spot, a flush spreading across his face, his voice gone half hoarse. "…What are you doing?" Only then did I realize what I'd done.

I let go like I'd been shocked and stepped back half a step, my ears burning too. "Sorry… I got a little too excited." Bullet comments: [It's just a tiny fiftyperson company.

Only the extra would get this happy over it.] [Back when the second male lead wanted to boost the female lead's new show, he dropped fifty million without blinking.] [The extra is so smalltime.

A crappy little company and she's so happy she's hugging and kissing. Where's her sense of scale?] So what? A lunch buddy is priceless.

First thing the next morning, I rode one of my new ebikes into the morning breeze and charged all the way back to my old company. Oh wait, it was my company now.

I parked the ebike out front, locked it, patted the seat, and felt very pleased with myself.

A fourwheel sports car was nowhere near as handy as my twowheel ebike—cheap to charge, and no traffic jams.

The moment my lunch buddy Bella saw me, she sprang up from her desk, flew over, and threw her arms around me. "Mal! Am I dreaming?! You're really my boss now?

I thought I'd never see you again as long as I lived!" I patted her shoulder and waved a grand hand. "I'm back at work.

From now on, I've got you covered." Bella was overcome. "Bestie!

Now that you've made it, don't forget the little people!" I said, "Get your phone out." Baffled, she unlocked it and handed it over.

I took it, opened her online shopping cart… cleared the whole thing in one tap. Payment successful. Bella stared at the empty cart, her mouth falling open. "Mal!

Did you win the lottery?!" I gave a vague "mm," holding back a smile. Better than winning the lottery, but I couldn't say.

She lost it on the spot, grabbed me in a hug, and jumped up and down three times. She squeezed me so tight I couldn't breathe.

I patted her back. "Okay, okay, squeeze any harder and somebody's gonna die." At lunch, the two of us holed up in the break room with an egg salad sandwich each, scrolling our phones as we ate.

I was chewing a mouthful of sandwich when a push notification suddenly popped up at the top of my screen. [BREAKING! Townsend Bankruptcy Rumors Fake!

Tycoon Splurges on Yacht, Heads Out to Sea to Catch Salmon Himself, All for His Lady Love!] Bella leaned over for a look and shook her head, tsking. "Rich people really know how to play.

Miss Keller posts on social media that she wants salmon, and Mr. Townsend just buys a yacht and goes out to sea to catch it for her.

If he can't catch any, he'll probably have to buy the ocean." My grip on the sandwich tightened, and suddenly the egg salad in my mouth didn't taste good anymore.

I'd compared prices at three stores just to buy an ebike, and here he was, using the kids' formula money to suck up to someone else's fiancée.

Five phoenix eggs—which one wouldn't hatch into a little money pit? And he was so generous. A yacht? Just buy it. Salmon? Just go catch it.

I slapped my sandwich down on the table, pulled out my phone, took a photo of the egg salad sandwich in front of me, and posted it to Instagram: [Seeking legendary ways to eat eggs!

Egg fried rice excluded—what else can you even do with bird eggs? Help, kinda urgent, I've got a LOT of eggs at home.] Chapter 7 The comments came pouring in: [Eggs Benedict!

The brunchplace kind, bursting with every bite!] [Egg custard pudding, soft and sweet, good for all ages.] [Bacon, egg, and cheese!

The cornerdeli kind, with hot sauce, so good you'll lick your fingers.] [Softboiled, deviled, poached, Scotch eggs… which one do you want?] I read through them one by one and locked my screen, satisfied.

Back home, I bustled around the kitchen for an hour. The counter by the stove was covered in plates.

Deviled eggs piped golden, a baked frittata soft and fluffy, fried eggs crispy enough to crumble, softboiled eggs oozing golden yolk when cut open.

The whole house smelled like eggs. Even the butler clenched his butt as he walked past, giving me several complicated looks.

I set the last dish, scallion scrambled eggs, on the table, took off my apron, and sat down to wait for Rhys to come home. The bullet comments had already spoiled it.

Rhys was having the worst luck of his life today.

He'd bobbed around on the sea all day with the wind blasting his face, cast his rod eight hundred times, and only then reeled in a single salmon.

Pitifully small, barely a size bigger than a hand. When the door opened, I was drinking a glass of water.

Rhys walked in carrying the fish, his hair blown into a mess, his face a shade darker than when he'd left. He saw the table full of eggs and his step faltered.

I set down my glass and went to meet him with a big smile. "Such a long, hard day of fishing, Mr. Townsend.

I made you a whole table of eggs—deviled eggs, frittata, fried eggs, softboiled eggs, scallion scrambled eggs… all eggs, to help you get your strength back." His gaze swept along the row of plates and back again.

He swallowed hard, and his pupils shrank to pinpoints. "I wasn't sure which you'd prefer?" I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. "Why not… try them all?" Rhys gulped, his voice a little unsteady. "Are you… cooking, or trying to tell me something?" "Tell you what?" I went over, took the handsized salmon from him, and weighed it in my palm. "You spent a whole day out at sea in the wind and came back with this little fish.

That must have been so hard. This table of eggs, though, I lovingly prepared right here at home. Not a single one went to waste." "Oh, the fish isn't even dead yet.

Should I call Miss Keller to come pick it up?

Doesn't she love salmon?" Rhys tried to say something, but I cut him off. "No." I shook my head to myself. "If she comes over, her fiancé might get the wrong idea.

She's about to get married, after all.

Running over late at night to the house of a man who's spoken for—oh, sorry, a man who's expecting—wouldn't be appropriate." With that, I shoved the fish into his arms. "In that case, Mr.

Townsend, why don't you deliver it yourself?

At this hour, the ebike won't hit any traffic, and you'll get there in time for her latenight snack." "Oh, and I've already thought of names for the babies.

Pepper, Chili, Sizzle, Fritter, Gravy. What do you think? One listen and you can tell exactly whose kids they are, right?" Rhys