When Yang Jian brought Yang Chan downstairs to the main restaurant area, Gustave was already busily preparing dinner for their extended group of guests.
Before beginning his cooking preparations, Gustave had respectfully inquired what the Moral Lord and Yang Jian would prefer to eat. Yang Jian had considered the question thoughtfully before requesting a simple bowl of meat porridge. The Moral Lord, having long transcended the need to satisfy mortal appetites, nevertheless recognized that since he had chosen to visit this mortal realm, he should embrace the full experience of earthly life. Therefore, he had requested a bowl of scallion tofu that he fondly remembered enjoying in a small world during his earlier travels.
Since Yang Jian hadn't specified what type of meat porridge he desired, Gustave decided to prepare century egg and lean meat porridge—a classic comfort food that would surely appeal to someone from an ancient world.
Gustave placed a heavy clay casserole onto a reinforced iron stove. He didn't bother with firewood; a thin arc of blue electricity danced from his fingertip into the stove's surface, the iron plate glowing with a steady heat. The hum was low but constant, a perfect simmer without smoke or flame. Into the pot he poured pre-soaked rice and fresh water, the mixture bubbling gently under his control.
He turned to the meat—a lean cut of pork loin—and let a faint static charge run along the edge of his knife. The blade sliced through flesh with zero resistance, each cut so clean that the fibers relaxed rather than tore. Gustave minced the pork quickly, almost too fast for the eye to follow, then seasoned it with salt, white pepper, sugar, and oyster sauce. The bowl gave a soft crackle as tiny pulses of current pushed the seasoning deeper, marinating the meat in seconds instead of minutes.
Next came the preserved eggs. He diced them into perfect cubes, the whites gleaming and yolks dark and rich. When the porridge thickened to his liking, he sent a mild surge through the casserole, creating a rolling motion that stirred the contents without a spoon. Into this gentle swirl he added the seasoned pork and century egg, the meat cooking through evenly as the current maintained exact heat.
Satisfied, he cut the power instantly, leaving the porridge smooth and glossy. A drizzle of sesame oil followed, the scent rising faintly as residual warmth coaxed out its aroma.
He didn't slow down. A separate pot of water was already heating—this time a softer current, barely strong enough to cause a shimmer on the surface. Into it he dropped bite-sized cubes of fresh tofu, blanching them just long enough to cleanse their flavor. With a snap of his fingers, the current ceased, the water stilled, and the tofu came out firm yet delicate.
He arranged them in a bowl, added finely chopped scallions, a ribbon of soy sauce, and a final thread of static that made the scallions cling evenly to every cube. A hint of ozone mingled with sesame's nutty perfume. Everything looked effortless, precise, and alive with energy.
Since Yang Jian and Daode Tianzun had only requested these two specific dishes, Gustave had complete freedom to prepare several additional courses according to his own judgment.
He decided to create several beloved home-style dishes, including rich braised beef with its deep, caramelized sauce and hot and sour cabbage that would provide a refreshing contrast to the heavier dishes.
Among the baskets he carried back from the morning market, the most unusual find was a cluster of glossy, dark jianshouqing mushrooms. Their fragrance was rich and earthy, almost sweet, and Gustave knew they were one of the few ingredients bold enough to stand beside chicken mushrooms in depth of flavor. But their reputation demanded caution; improperly cooked, they could upset even the strongest stomach.
He set his wok over the iron stove and sent a pulse of controlled electricity through it. The metal warmed instantly, oil shimmering across its surface in seconds. To test the heat, Gustave flicked a spark into the oil, watching it snap—a signal that the temperature was perfect.
Thin slices of jianshouqing went in with a clean hiss, followed by minced garlic. He didn't rely on guesswork; subtle arcs of current ran beneath the wok, keeping the heat even no matter how quickly the ship swayed. Gustave moved the wok with practiced flicks, letting the mushrooms tumble and sear while the garlic released its aroma.
When he judged the mushrooms nearly ready, he upped the current slightly, sending a ripple of heat through the iron. Chopped fresh chili peppers followed, their red skins catching a faint shine of oil as they hit the pan. The sound deepened to a sizzle, the scent growing sharper and more complex. He stirred constantly, the electric pulses keeping the temperature steady so there would be no raw bite left in the mushrooms.
Just as Gustave was preparing to begin stir-frying the jianshouqing, Yang Jian appeared in the kitchen doorway with Yang Chan at his side. Yang Jian had carefully braided his sister's hair into two adorable pigtails that bounced charmingly when she walked, making her appear even more endearing than before.
"Little Chan'er, this is my fellow disciple, Brother Gustave," Yang Jian said gently, pointing toward the busy chef. "You'll be living with Brother Gustave from now on. I'll come back to take you home after I successfully rescue our mother, all right?"
"Mm-hmm," Yang Chan responded with a small nod.
Although she had verbally agreed to this arrangement, Yang Chan still gripped Yang Jian's hand tightly, clearly unwilling to release her hold on her beloved brother.
"Brother, the dish I'm about to prepare will be quite spicy," Gustave explained diplomatically. "Perhaps you could take Little Chan'er outside and introduce her to Po and the others?"
Since he was deeply focused on his cooking responsibilities, Gustave refrained from attempting to comfort Yang Chan or engage in lengthy conversations that might delay the meal preparation.
"Of course, Brother. We won't disturb your work any longer," Yang Jian replied with understanding, gently leading Yang Chan away from the kitchen area.
Outside in the main dining area, The Moral Lord was sharing passages from the Tao Te Ching—the foundational text he had written during his mortal incarnation—with Po and Tom:
"The highest good is like water. Water benefits all things without contending with them, and dwells in places that people disdain, thus it is close to the Tao..."
Although Po didn't fully comprehend the profound philosophical concepts being discussed, he sensed that the Moral Lord's words contained deep wisdom and truth, so he continued nodding attentively throughout the discourse. Tom was also nodding along, though not because he found the content particularly enlightening—rather, he was fighting an overwhelming urge to fall asleep.
Tom desperately told himself that he absolutely could not fall asleep during such an important lesson, but he found himself unable to resist the powerful waves of drowsiness washing over him. In a moment of cartoon inspiration, Tom produced two wooden matches and propped them against his eyelids, attempting to force his eyes to remain open through mechanical intervention.
However, Tom found that listening to the Tao Te Ching felt like trying to understand a completely foreign language. He truly couldn't bear the mental strain any longer. After a brief struggle, the two matches were snapped by the involuntary closing of Tom's heavy eyelids, and the exhausted cat collapsed to the floor with a loud crash.
Observing Tom as he fell to the ground and then quickly scrambled back to his feet with embarrassed haste, the Moral Lord shook his head with fond exasperation:
"Although this little fellow possesses remarkable qualities, he is simply too lazy for serious philosophical study."
At this opportune moment, Yang Jian approached the group with Yang Chan walking beside him.
"Little Chan'er, this is my master," Yang Jian explained to his sister with appropriate reverence. "Please greet him properly."
"Hello, Master Grandpa!" Yang Chan announced brightly.
Upon seeing that the Moral Lord possessed distinguished white hair and a flowing white beard, her instinct was to address him as "grandpa." However, since he was her second brother's master, she ended up creating this charmingly confused title.
"Little Chan'er!" Yang Jian began, preparing to gently correct his sister's informal address.
However, he was unexpectedly interrupted by the Moral Lord himself.
"It's perfectly fine, perfectly fine! Please call me grandpa from now on—I quite like it! Hahahaha!" the Moral Lord declared with obvious delight.
Looking at the adorable little Yang Chan, the cosmic entity cared nothing for formal titles and seemed genuinely pleased to be addressed with such endearing familiarity.
"Grandpa, you're so nice!" Yang Chan exclaimed with innocent joy.
Observing the Moral Lord's warm and approachable demeanor, she couldn't help but feel an immediate sense of comfortable intimacy with this kindly figure.
"Very good, very good! Little Chan is truly a delightful child," the Moral Lord said warmly, gently patting Yang Chan's small head with obvious affection.
Seeing that The Moral Lord had taken such an immediate liking to Yang Chan, Yang Jian felt a wave of relief wash over him. He then continued with the introductions:
"Little Chan'er, this is Po, and this is Tom. They're both close friends of your Brother Gustave."
Yang Chan nodded politely and called out "Brother Po" and "Brother Tom" in her clear, musical voice.
Then, Yang Chan looked at Po's prominently round belly with obvious curiosity and asked with careful politeness:
"Brother Po, may Xiaochan touch your belly?"
Po was momentarily startled by this unexpected request, then replied with a warm smile:
"Of course you can! Please touch it whenever you'd like."
After receiving Po's encouraging permission, Yang Chan approached him and gently placed her small hand against his soft, round stomach. A wonderfully soft and warm sensation spread through her palm, and she instinctively leaned her head against Po's comforting bulk.
Recognizing this gesture of trust and need for comfort, Po carefully lifted Yang Chan with both hands and settled her securely in his protective embrace.
Feeling the enveloping warmth of Po's arms, Yang Chan was suddenly reminded of her mother. Unable to suppress her overwhelming longing, she began sobbing quietly against Po's chest.
Hearing Yang Chan's heartbroken tears, Yang Jian's first instinct was to step forward and take his sister into his own embrace. However, when he observed how tightly Yang Chan was clinging to Po, he reluctantly abandoned this impulse.
Yang Jian could only regret that he currently lacked the power to rescue their mother, and he felt tremendous guilt about the suffering his sister was enduring.
However, when he witnessed Yang Chan's willingness to seek comfort from someone other than himself, Yang Jian also felt a profound sense of relief. This development meant he could return to intensive cultivation with greater peace of mind, knowing that his sister would not be completely alone during his absence.
Before long, Gustave had completed dinner preparations. He had originally intended to ask Po and Tom to assist with serving the dishes, but since both were currently occupied with comforting Yang Chan, Yang Jian stepped forward to help instead.
After all the food had been properly served, everyone gathered around the dining table. In the past, seating arrangements had been completely casual, but with the Moral Lord present, Gustave respectfully invited him to take the seat of honor. However, the cosmic sage shook his head and declined this formal gesture:
"There's absolutely no need for such ceremony. I, as your master, don't concern myself with these rigid protocols. Please continue exactly as you normally would."
This represented the characteristic nature of the Moral Lord. If this had been Yuanshi Tianzun instead, strict adherence to proper hierarchical rules would have been absolutely mandatory.
Since the Moral Lord had explicitly expressed his preferences, Gustave and the others felt comfortable eating without excessive restraint. They simply selected whatever dishes appealed to them, just as they always had during previous meals.
"Little Chan'er really likes the dishes that Brother Gustave prepared!" Yang Chan announced happily after taking her first bite of the richly flavored braised beef, her eyes crinkling into delighted crescents.
"If you enjoy it, please eat as much as you'd like, Little Chan," Gustave replied with genuine warmth, playfully tapping Yang Chan's upturned little nose before ladling a bowl of porridge for her. "Here, this is the century egg and lean meat porridge that Brother Gustave made especially for you."
"Mm-hmm!" Yang Chan nodded enthusiastically, then began eating the porridge with obvious appetite and enjoyment.
Witnessing this heartwarming scene, Yang Jian felt much more confident about entrusting Yang Chan's care to Gustave and his friends. This represented the first time Yang Chan had genuinely laughed since they had fled from their mother's imprisonment.
After dinner concluded, the entire group made their way to the Gate of All Worlds on the third floor.
"Little Chan'er, you must listen carefully to Brother Gustave and the others from now on, do you understand?" Yang Jian said gently, touching his sister's head in a final gesture of brotherly affection.
"Mm-hmm," Yang Chan responded with a small nod.
Although the pleasant dinner had helped wash away much of Yang Chan's immediate sadness, she still felt tremendous reluctance about watching Yang Jian depart.
"Brother, I'm placing Little Chan'er entirely in your capable care," Yang Jian said formally, turning to address Gustave and the others with this solemn request.
"Please don't worry, Brother. I will absolutely take excellent care of Little Chan'er," Gustave replied with complete sincerity.
He possessed extensive experience in childcare, having raised both Ace and Luffy for many years aboard their ship.
"Goodbye, everyone," Yang Jian said with final resolve.
"Goodbye, Brother," Yang Chan whispered tearfully.
With these parting words, Yang Jian opened the Gate of All Worlds and stepped through, disappearing back to his original world to begin his intensive cultivation.
"Wait, Master, aren't you returning too?" Gustave asked with obvious confusion, noticing that the Moral Lord hadn't departed alongside Yang Jian.
"Do you truly want your master to abandon you so quickly?" the Moral Lord replied with mock severity.
"Absolutely not, Master! I would be delighted if you remained here permanently!" Gustave protested, feeling somewhat wronged by this interpretation.
After all, the Moral Lord hadn't previously indicated any intention to remain, so Gustave had naturally assumed he would return to oversee Yang Jian's training.
"My true body is managing affairs on the other side," the Moral Lord explained patiently. "During this period, I wish to borrow your Gate of All Worlds to travel throughout different dimensions and experience various manifestations of the universal Tao."
"That's absolutely wonderful!" Gustave exclaimed with genuine excitement at having such powerful protection remaining with them.
"However, if you encounter problems in the future, you must resolve them independently. I will not provide assistance," the Moral Lord added with casual finality.
Hearing this crucial limitation, Gustave's expression shifted to one of miserable resignation as he watched the Moral Lord calmly descend the stairs, leaving him to contemplate the complex implications of having a cosmic entity as a non-interfering houseguest.