Never!
These recipes were hers.
Every secret ingredient, every method perfected over sleepless nights, every subtle nuance she had honed through years of practice, it all belonged to her.
She knew the strengths and weaknesses of her creations, and she knew the vulnerabilities in Gu Xuelan's approach.
The pen scratched across the paper as she began reconstructing her world in ink. She wrote down everything she could remember, especially her signature recipes, the ones that had made her name and her kitchen formidable.
Each stroke of the pen was precise, almost reverent, as if engraving her claim to what was hers.
Her mind sharpened as she wrote. She traced the hidden tricks she had built into each dish, the subtle nuances that only she could understand.
With each recipe recreated, the anger in her chest turned into something colder, sharper, a calculated focus.
