Youhad never believed in gods.

Sure, they existed—floating up there in the heavens, drinking celestial wine, making themselves look important. But gods had nothing to do with you, a palace servant whose greatest concern was not spilling tea on important people.

That changed when the sky cracked open and a half-naked tiger god dropped onto your kitchen floor.

A blinding golden light filled the room, sending dishes flying. You barely had time to shield your eyes before something heavy crashed onto the ground with a thud—smashing straight into a basket of rice.

Silence.

Then, from the pile of very expensive, now-ruined rice, came an irritated voice:

"What in the name of the heavens is this?!"

A ridiculously handsome man—tall, golden-skinned, very shirtless—was currently lying in a heap, his long flame-red hair tangled with grains of rice. His glowing tiger-striped arms flexed as he angrily flicked a grain off his face.

Then he looked up.

Your eyes met.

You blinked. “Um.”

The man’s fiery orange eyes narrowed. He stood in one smooth motion, towering over you, voice full of authority:

"Kneel, mortal! For you are in the presence of the great Chi Hu!"

You stared. Then, after a long, deeply suffering sigh, asked, “Are you going to pay for the rice you just destroyed?”

Chi Hu jerked back like he’d been slapped. “Pay? PAY? You DARE ask a god for—”

He paused.

His expression shifted from indignant godliness to sudden horror. His head whipped around.

"Wait. No. No, no, no—"

Chi Hu spun back to you, jabbing a finger at you.

"You are NOT the Crown Prince."

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Astute observation.”

Chi Hu dragged his hands down his face. "No. This is wrong. I was meant to be summoned before royalty. To a palace hall, filled with bowing nobles, not—" He gestured at the kitchen. "This."

You crossed your arms. “You really expected nobles to kneel for a barefoot man covered in rice?”

Chi Hu spluttered. “I AM A GOD!”

“Uh-huh. And I have dishes to wash.”

Chi Hu blinked. “...I am a GOD.”