The morning sun had barely spilled over the mountain peaks of the Perplexing Spice Sect when Yan Chen arrived at the great kitchen's rear courtyard. The usually quiet alley was already buzzing. Inner disciples in crisp white chef robes lined up by three to a polished obsidian stove, sparring knives in hand. At the center stood towering racks of spice jars and steaming cauldrons, their aromas perfuming the air with ginger, garlic, and something faintly herbaceous. Yan Chen's heart thumped. This was his first day inside the sect's true inner kitchen—a sanctum reserved only for the strongest culinary cultivators.
His shoes clicked on the stone path as he approached. Ahead of him, Elder Chen Jin, the sect's top kitchen elder, surveyed the gathering disciples with a stern gaze. Beaked hat perched on his salt-and-pepper hair, Chen Jin looked every inch the kitchen emperor. When his gaze fell on Yan Chen, it flashed with barely concealed interest. Whispers rippled through the crowd: "It's him… the brat who awakened spirit flavor." Yan Chen stood a bit straighter, recalling yesterday's events. With a simple soup, he had unlocked a spiritual flavor that danced on the tongue and astonished the sect. No matter the jeers or praise, he had earned an invitation.
Yan Chen bowed respectfully. The disciples parted like a river around a rock as he took his place. Qi Hu, the sect's young star chef and Yan Chen's rival, glared from the second row. Qi Hu's cheeks still burned from humiliation. He pouted, tight-fisted at his side, as he watched Yan settle opposite him. "So, this is him…." Qi Hu muttered through clenched teeth. The surrounding disciples tensed; Qi Hu was normally calm and composed, but lately he'd been plotting something.
Chen Jin's voice boomed, silencing the murmurs. "Welcome, new disciples, to the Perplexing Spice Sect's inner kitchen. Today marks the beginning of your formal culinary cultivation training. Here you will learn to channel Spirit Essence into cooking, to awaken flavors beyond mortal taste. There are tiers of mastery called the Flavor Realms, starting at the Mortal Taste realm. Once your culinary spirit aligns with your ingredients, you'll break beyond the mundane. The first steps are simple: know your ingredients, harness your spirit, refine your techniques."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Mortal Taste Realm. That was what Yan Chen had just reached the day before with a simple soup dish. He realized his success had earned him that honor. Now he was officially at the starting platform of true cultivation in cooking.
Chen Jin raised one hand. Like a conductor silencing an orchestra, he commanded attention effortlessly. "Before long, you will ascend to higher realms—the Heavenly Savor, the Soul-simmering Taste, and beyond," he continued. Yan Chen's fingers tingled at the promise. For now, though, Chen Jin focused the disciples on the task at hand. He waved a massive iron ladle. "Today's training test will be simple: infusing Spirit Essence into a Lotus Bloom Soup. All ingredients are on the table. Let the food speak to you."
Tables groaned under an abundance of vegetables, meats, and exotic spices. Each disciple stepped forward to gather ingredients. Yan Chen glanced around; Qi Hu shot him a disdainful look but said nothing. Qi Hu's friends smirked and began whispering, their eyes darting to Yan's station.
As Yan reached for a smooth lotus root and a crisp lotus leaf, he felt a tingle in his palm. Something fluttered in his mind. He remembered the mystic cookbook tucked beneath his traveling bag—gifted by the elder at the sect gate. He had barely dared to trust its cryptic pages yesterday, but it had guided his hands to stir a flavor none dared dream of. Today, nestled by his side in the kitchen, it seemed to hum with possibility.
Open the cookbook. A voice drifted into his mind, soft but insistent. Yan started. Did the book... speak? He slipped behind his station. The cookbook hovered on a small wooden stand in his station's corner like a patient teacher. Its cover, aged leather engraved with a phoenix and bamboo ladle, glowed faintly. Yan cleared his throat and opened it.
The pages rustled on their own, turning to a section titled "Peach Blossom Broth." No, that wasn't the test. Another flicker: "Jade Dragon Noodles." Not the soup either. Finally, he found "Lotus Bloom Soup." The pages were blank… at first. Then, glowing text formed in golden ink:
"First lesson: cultivate spirit through the lotus's purity. Bind your Spirit Essence to each slice; the broth will reveal your fate."
Yan's mouth fell open slightly. Fate? He blinked. Steeling himself, he channeled attention inward. He closed his eyes, cupped his palms over a pile of lotus slices, and gently drew in a breath. Memories of cooking and spiritual practice drifted through him. He felt an energy at the tip of his tongue—a subtle layering in flavors. Focus, he reminded himself.
Summoning the feeling, Yan envisioned his own spirit aligning with each ingredient. His hand guided the ladle, slicing the lotus root with reverence, dropping them into the simmering pot. Unseen to others, his spirit qi thread ran through each cut, gently stirring the pungency of ginger and peppercorn. Heat hissed as steam rose. The soup began to shimmer faintly, as if responding to an inner call. Yan held his breath. So this is Spirit Essence…
Nearby, Qi Hu stood at his station with a sneer. He was preparing his own version of Lotus Bloom Soup — more flamboyant, with bright peppers and golden saffron stamen. He finished chopping a red chili and tossed it into his pot. Qi Hu smirked, then, glancing to Yan Chen's back, he saw an opportunity. Under the cloak of distraction, Qi Hu slid a slim hand beneath his station and crushed a dried herb—an especially bitter thornvine — into Yan's station. He planned to dash it into Yan's pot and ruin the broth.
"Ha," Qi Hu whispered to himself. "Just watch this outsider choke."
Yan, however, had sensed the shift in his cooking. He turned, just in time to see Qi Hu's gloved finger flick out, planting something. Without hesitation, Yan quirked an eyebrow and flicked his wrist, revealing the small black thorns Qi Hu had dropped. A dozen dagger-sharp specks. Qi Hu's eyes widened. Yan calmly picked them up, most scattering on the stone.
Qi Hu glared, cheeks flushing. "That's my — what are you doing with that?" he spat.
Yan Chen's smile was cool. He flicked a few droplets of lotus broth from his ladle at the thornvine. They sizzled and hissed, but instead of a horrid smell, a deep rich aroma of smoked bamboo rose. He dipped a finger in the broth — ginger heat and smoky lotus — and his eyes brightened. "Bitter thorns," Yan said lightly, "get infused with lotus purity, they become a smoke on the tongue. Adds depth." He nearly pouted back sarcastically, "I like it."
Several nearby disciples gasped. Qi Hu's face paled. He expected Yan to choke or sputter. Instead, Yan had salvaged Qi Hu's sabotage into an enhancement — without Qi Hu's knowledge. Qi Hu glared even harder, but the moment passed. The judges, a trio of middle elders with ruined aprons and tight buns, had suddenly turned to inspect Yan's station. Elder Chen Jin's penetrating eyes were narrowed, intrigued.
Yan took another careful sip from his ladle and nodded. Satisfied, he placed the lotus broth into a brass tureen. A spiral of violet steam curled upward, carrying a complex aroma.
At that moment, Bai Yun appeared at the outer edge of the kitchen's rising steam. Her jade-green hair cascaded like silk down her shoulders, tied partly with a single lotus blossom. She stood just tall enough to peer over the table, hands folded. Yan caught her gaze. She was no taller than any other disciple, but her presence was serene, like a fresh breeze drifting through the kitchen. She gave him a quick, teasing smile. "You didn't miss a single bit of that sabotage, huh?" she called out lightly. A few of her own station-mates laughed at the side, familiar with the rivalry. Yan Chen ducked a grin.
Bai Yun crossed her arms, still smiling. "Not bad, Lord Yan. And to think, you'd only just started cultivating Spirit Essence." She pushed her glasses up and narrowed her eyes, playful but curious. "Teach me how you managed that balance with the thornvine."
Yan felt his ears warm. The last thing he expected was praise, let alone from such an elegant peer. He tilted his ladle slightly, letting a drop of jade-green broth slip back into the tureen. "Pure spirit and a dash of luck."
Bai Yun laughed, a bell-like sound. "Luck?" She raised her eyebrows. "Hardly. That requires skill." She eyed his broth again. "Impressive." Her smile fell away as she noticed something shimmer above the soup — a thin mist tinted with violet light. On the edge of taste, he sensed something beyond Mortal Taste. Perhaps the introduction of Spirit Essence had triggered a subtle breakthrough. Bai Yun's gaze narrowed again, genuinely intrigued.
Across the kitchen, Qi Hu's face had turned redder than a Sichuan chili. Yet he forced a polite smile. "W-Well, my turn now," Qi Hu stammered, grabbing his tureen and setting it before the judges. Qi Hu's soup was bright orange and dreamy sweet on the nose. Chen Jin inhaled deeply. Elder Chen's lips twitched. "Sweet," the elder grunted as he spooned Qi Hu's soup. But suddenly he coughed. Qi Hu's eyes widened in panic. The soup was overpowering, too much sugar — it was far too intense for Lotus Soup. Elder Chen glowered at Qi Hu. Qi Hu protested, arguing some ingredient gave it sweetness. "No fault on me," he said, eyes averted. The other elders just smiled thinly, unconvinced.
Yan Chen stepped back, silently amused at Qi Hu's predicament. Qi Hu's sabotage had failed spectacularly, and now it seemed Qi Hu's dish was a bust.
Elder Chen finally sniffed and nodded to the next disciple. As the crowd shuffled, Yan Chen turned to Bai Yun. He noticed her robe embroidered with a single phoenix rise — a high rank for inner disciples. Bai Yun gave a small smirk. "Maybe you should pray to the cookbook for luck sometime," she teased, blinking kindly at his embarrassed smile.
Yan raised an eyebrow, not knowing what to say. She was confident, far from shy, yet she maintained an air of formality. Her eyes flickered to the cookbook lying on Yan's station bench. The golden symbols of the Cooking Scripture glimmered under the lantern light. "Your book… it's glowing," she observed quietly, voice low.
He tilted his head to read it better. The cookbook had indeed glowed when he used Spirit Essence, but it always faded immediately after. Surprised, he backed up as the dust caught the light above the cookbook. For a moment, the kitchen air felt still — and suddenly the book burst alight with a soft emerald glow, as if the cover were burning with green flame. Yan quickly pried it open; pages flipped on their own to a blank page, then the title "Essence-Infused Lotus Soup."
Bai Yun gasped softly. Elders and disciples alike heard the sound and turned to stare. That impossible glow! Yan blushed and slammed the book shut, but it kept shimmering beneath the leather. He glanced up at Bai Yun, who looked as stunned as everyone else. Her jade eyes were wide with wonder.
The moment passed, the glow flickered and died. Yan forced a calm laugh. "Old pages, old tricks," he said, but his fingers trembled. That was no minor misfire of his spirit — the cookbook's reaction was unmistakable.
Time pressed on. The judges called the class to start the actual cooking exercise. Yan Chen began assembling his ingredients with speed and precision. Everyone had to prepare the Lotus Bloom Soup from scratch, infusing Spirit Essence. The air sizzled with anticipation as knives chopped and flames flared. Bai Yun returned to her own station just two tables away from Yan. They cast covert glances at each other as the elder paced among them, offering advice with a wag of his spooned finger.
Chen Jin paused at Yan Chen's side. Yan felt his gaze flick to the golden lotus amulet on Yan's chest — a charm given by Master Ye, signifying Yan's status as the Grandmaster's gift. Chen Jin raised one eyebrow. "Young sect spirit, remember: Spirit Essence is not brute power. It is harmony. Taste your creation as you go." He rapped the table with his ladle and moved on.
Yan nodded and continued. He gently crushed lotus petals between his palms, inhaling their sweetness. Thoughts of yesterday's victory and today's challenge danced in his mind. Was he up to the task? His stomach fluttered. He found strength recalling why he cooked: to honor flavors and the spirit within.
He began stirring with intention, pouring in the broth slowly, letting lotus petals, ginger, and the rescued thornvine infusion swirl into union. The pot simmered, releasing plumes of fragrant steam shaped like a blossoming flower. Other disciples leaned to breathe it; tongues moistened.
Suddenly, Qi Hu thundered over. The bastard had another trick — he slammed Yan's stock pot with his elbow hard, almost tipping it! The kitchen rang with cursing from Qi Hu's table. The elder shot the two a glare.
"Qi Hu! Discipline!"
The young man stammered, blushing. "I-I'm sorry, Elder! It was an accident!"
Yan steadied the pot. "It's fine," he said with a tight smile, eyes locked on Qi Hu. Easy for me to say. Qi Hu scowled and muttered an apology. Everyone returned to work, the heat rising again.
The kitchen suddenly felt hotter. A faint azure light flickered at the base of Yan's stirring ladle. Startled, he looked down. His palms were resting on a lotus root, and he could see his Essence streaming from fingers into the cutting board. The board's grain patterns seemed to pulse. Inside the simmering soup, delicate lotus petals spelled a pattern — a small lotus emblem, shimmering. Did I do that?
No other was aware of it yet. Yan blushed again. Perhaps the cookbook's glow had changed him.
Bai Yun turned from her work and looked directly at Yan's soup. Her eyes widened. Something subtle and different was happening there. She wiped broth from her own finger as a discreet taste-test and, without looking, flicked her gaze at Yan. "What's your secret?" she called softly. Others around them were too focused, but Yan heard it loud and clear. "No secret," Yan replied under his breath. Why do I have to answer?
He kept to himself. A minute later, Yan drizzled a final drop of pure lotus oil onto the soup's surface in an ancient pattern he had seen in a fragment of text. With that touch, the soup in Yan's pot turned a pearly white glow, as if the moon had reflected off it. The broth actually seemed lighter, brighter. A sweet fragrance blossomed — candy-sugar with a hint of spice. The whisper of spirit: Better than mortal taste.
A hush fell over the station as Elder Chen Jin reappeared, chin raised expectantly. Qi Hu's soup was laid out next to Yan's in the tasting area.
Elder Chen dipped his brass spoon into Yan's lotus broth first. Steam billowed upward like a flower on fire. He sipped, chin twitching. Oh. His eyes unclosed slowly. For a moment the kitchen was silent. Yan Chen held his breath, nearly still. Elder Chen's face was emotionless, but even those around sensed it: he was impressed. The head elder at Chen's side muttered, "He's done something…" Elders exchanged looks.
Qi Hu watched, stone-faced. When it was his turn to stand in judgment, Qi Hu shot Yan a venomous glare. But Qi Hu's soup already smelled like pure sugar with nothing supporting it — and sure enough, as the elder sipped it, his face contorted again in displeasure. The verdict was already clear.
A thunderous applause erupted from the gathered disciples. Qi Hu's supporters gawked in shock; many who had jeered just moments ago now cheered Yan Chen. Even some of Qi Hu's usual cronies clapped uncertainly. Yan let relief and pride surge through him, and he bowed to the elders as they signaled approval.
Bai Yun was clapping, eyes bright with delight. She caught his eye and raised a hand in congratulation. He managed a genuine smile and a wink. Just then, Qi Hu lunged forward with righteous outrage. "This isn't over, Yan Chen!" he hissed quietly, but the elders turned his fury into silence with a stern look. Qi Hu took a step back, fuming.
The chapter's final test was done — but for Yan Chen, something new had begun.
Later that evening, as the day turned to dusk, Yan packed up his station. He lingered to mop sweat from his brow, alone now except for the elder and Bai Yun. Chen Jin gave Yan a nod. "Well done today. You have successfully channeled Spirit Essence and even enriched a bitter element into a feast. Remember this: Culinary cultivation is as much about heart as technique. Meditation on ingredients will be your daily path." He patted Yan's shoulder with a heavy hand. "Tomorrow, we delve deeper."
Yan bowed deeply, humbled. "Thank you, Elder Chen Jin."
Bai Yun offered a proud grin. "Tomorrow, I'll challenge you to a tasting duel. See if your newfound fame holds," she teased, half-serious. Yan chuckled, scratching his chin. "It'll be an honor. Just don't lose to my cooking."
She gave him a sidelong look, amber eyes flicking to the glowing lotus charm at his neck. "If I lose, I have to reveal a cultivation secret," she said, winking. He feigned shock. "You're on, Jade Lotus."
Under the golden lantern light, the two departed opposite ends of the kitchen hall— Qi Hu still scowling in the background.
But Yan Chen hardly noticed Qi Hu now. His mind was on the cookbook in his bag. In the quiet of the kitchen, the book's spirit stirred again. He withdrew it and cracked it open one more time, heart hammering. The last page he saw read: "Reward those who foster unity of flavor and spirit." Beneath it, a new recipe title had etched itself in emerald light: "Purifying Lotus Embrace."
Eyes wide, Yan lifted his head—and the entire kitchen suddenly trembled. A faint chime rang in the air as a radiant green lotus blossom bloomed on the surface of his empty pot. Steam spiraled and people gasped. Even the elders stepped back, startled by the sudden phenomenon. Bai Yun's mouth formed an "O."
Yan's eyes widened in astonishment. Did I do that? he thought. He had merely turned in his finished soup; the pot should've been empty, yet here a ghostly lotus burned in emerald fire. Shiatsu between skill and luck. It wavered, then gently drifted upward, bathing the ceiling in pale light.
A crack! The stone tiles above that cooking station fractured, releasing a shower of leaves and dust from the ceiling rafters. The entire kitchen burst into uproar. Disciples yelped and ducked. Qi Hu yelped with surprise, stumbling back on his heels. Chen Jin's voice roared, "Everyone, stay back!"
Green-flamed lotus petals cascaded from the broken ceiling like an otherworldly snowfall. Yan Chen stood rooted, heart racing, staring at the miracle he had just unlocked. Around him, noses filled with the scent of pure lotus and sizzling spirit oil. The phenomenon continued unchecked for a few heartbeats — then, as suddenly as it had started, it vanished.
Silence fell, broken only by Dr. Yan's own heartbeat. Every eye in the great kitchen was on him. Bai Yun stepped forward, a stunned, admiring smile slowly spreading on her lips. The lotus spirit had been his doing, his cooking, or perhaps, the cookbook's ancient power.
Elder Chen Jin approached warily, inspecting the now-collapsed ceiling. Beneath it, he caught sight of Yan's amulet and cookbook open in his hands. The elder's eyes widened in shock.
Yan Chen's breath caught in his throat. He realized at once what had happened. I think… I just unlocked a forgotten technique.
His mind reeled. The kitchen from harmony had twisted into chaos in an instant. Everyone was staring—some amazed, some frightened. He had never meant to do that.
But now, as dust settled and whispers swelled around him, Yan Chen felt exhilaration and trepidation in equal measure.
He was no ordinary cook. The Flavor Realms had a new prodigy, and he was only beginning to taste their mysteries.