Ever since our last conversation—and the burst of motivation I gave Emma—her "condition" cleared up remarkably fast. She's been bright and spirited ever since. Even when Jiabailei asked her to perform acts of kindness, Emma leapt at the chance.
Of course, a born bad seed doesn't reform that easily. Her virtue was only a temporary illusion, blinded by Jiabailei's rewards. It won't be long before that rotten core sprouts again, and Emma finds herself back on the path of mischief. Jiabailei isn't worried, though. She has all the time in the world to straighten out this little troublemaker—with a few more wallops, Emma will learn to behave.
Actually, Jiabailei finds Steve—the ever-polite, saintly Steve—even harder to handle than Emma. Take right now, for example:
> "Oh my goodness, is this Jiabailei? My heavens, she's just adorable!"
"Steve, I envy you so much—what a remarkable daughter you have."
"So precious! Come here, let Auntie hold you a bit more."
Faced with Steve's overenthusiastic friends and relatives, Jiabailei's smile froze solid. With the soul of an adult housed in the body of an angel, she simply couldn't endure being passed around like some doll by these grubby-fingered aunties. Her cheeks felt like they'd be squeezed into oblivion.
She longed to break free from their terrifying clutches, but when she caught sight of Steve's proud, doting face, her heart melted. So she sighed inwardly and let them wrestle her into their arms—consider it repayment for Steve's kindness in adopting her.
…
As the owner of a factory, Steve is extremely busy. Carving out a few days to help Jiabailei settle in was already pushing his limits. Once he saw how seamlessly she'd adapted to family life, he threw himself back into work. Jiabailei, meanwhile, resumed her "good angel" training program—but she did have one important duty beyond the daily routine: punishing evil and rewarding virtue.
That very afternoon, Jiabailei was engrossed in cartoons on TV when an ill-timed prayer echoed in her mind. She scrunched her nose in annoyance—ugh, what a buzzkill. But remembering her system, she perked up and replied mentally:
"Old Burke, you'd better have a good reason for interrupting me."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't mind cracking your bones for you."
Almost immediately, the prayerful voice answered:
> "Great Angel, I'm sorry for disturbing you, but this demon is beyond my power. I must trouble you again."
Jiabailei rolled her eyes but remained professional.
"Fine—give me a minute. I'll be right there."
She switched off the TV, then glided into Emma's room. Emma was languidly leafing through a detective novel; the sight of Jiabailei startled her—but relief flickered across her face when she realized Jiabailei wasn't there to punish her.
"I'll be gone for a while," Jiabailei warned, folding her wings. "Behave yourself. And don't you dare think about pulling any stunts in my absence—I'll know the moment you do, and you'll regret it."
Emma's rebellious instinct twitched, but she nodded obediently. She really was terrified of another beating.
Satisfied, Jiabailei swept back to her room. A burst of holy light unfolded into a shimmering portal at the door. Jiabailei stepped through and vanished. When the light faded, she found herself in the basement of a church—an austere chamber lit by a single lantern. An elderly priest with a white beard knelt before her in humble supplication.
…
Only two people know Jiabailei's true identity: Emma, whom Jiabailei told herself, and Old Father Burke, who saw it by himself. Burke is a devout exorcist, and in his long career he's encountered enough oddities to have eyes that can pierce an angel's guise. The moment he recognized her, he pledged himself as Jiabailei's loyal servant.
Jiabailei needed intelligence—she couldn't simply stumble into every chance to punish evil. So she accepted Burke's offer. He'd gather information for her; in return, she'd handle any adversaries beyond his power. To make contact easy, she taught him to invoke her honored name in prayer, and she installed a magic portal in the basement so she could arrive at a moment's notice.
Returning to business, Jiabailei folded her wings and turned to Burke with a brisk nod.
"All right—what's going on? Spit it out so we can get this over with."
Burke, ever respectful despite her brash demeanor, rose to speak.
"It's an ogre—the ancient man-eater from horror legend. It has returned to our world."
"This ogre wakes only every twenty-three years?" Jiabailei prompted.
Burke bowed. "Yes. It awakens for twenty-three days of bloodlust—today is the twenty-third, its peak of madness. Its power is overwhelming; I cannot best it alone."
Jiabailei scoffed. "You should have told me sooner."
"I only received the warning today," Burke admitted with a rueful shrug.
Jiabailei didn't press him. "Fine. Let's go—no way I'm letting that thing get away."
…
As Burke drove them toward the hunting grounds, Jiabailei reviewed what she knew of the ogre. According to the ancient horror film The Terrible Man-Eater, this demon has survived for millennia. Every twenty-three years, it awakens for exactly twenty-three days, rampaging until it's sated—then falls back into slumber. It's said to be immortal, impervious to death; others can only force it back to sleep.
But as far as Jiabailei is concerned, no creature is truly indestructible—only untamed by lesser foes. She isn't God, but she is an angel. Soon the ogre will learn the true meaning of despair.