Shen Yuan started his second day in Greenleaf City the same way he had ended the first—behind the rusty food cart, his expression flat and a knife in hand.
The fire sprite from yesterday floated lazily beside him. It circled his wok like an excited dog. Whenever Shen Yuan chopped vegetables, the sprite clapped its tiny hands and whooped.
"…Annoying," Shen Yuan muttered.
The sprite ignored him. It tried to pick up a carrot, but the carrot was larger than its entire body. It gave up and returned to floating in circles.
Shen Yuan lit the spirit stove and set his pot. His movements were calm, steady, and exact. No wasted motion. He had cooked in kitchens with a hundred shouting apprentices and servers running around like headless chickens. Compared to that, a noisy sprite was nothing.
By the time the broth began to bubble, the first customers had already gathered. Word of yesterday's miracle soup had spread. Farmers, peddlers, and even wandering cultivators stood in line. Some carried coins in tight fists. Some had come only to watch.
"Boss, one bowl!" a merchant shouted.
"Line up," Shen Yuan said. His tone was flat. His hands moved faster than his words. Ladle in, ladle out, bowl down, next.
The broth was stronger today. The system had rewarded him with a small pouch of "Spirit Seasoning Powder." The scent spread three streets away.
The fire sprite zipped above the pot, dancing in the steam. Customers gasped and pointed.
"That spirit is still here!"
"Does it come with the soup?"
"I'll pay extra if it dances for me!"
Shen Yuan said nothing, as he kept cooking, keeping his work composed.
Reputation Points ticked up steadily in his head.
[Reputation +1.]
[Reputation +1.]
[Reputation +1.]
Some customers looked weak, pale from overusing qi. After drinking his broth, color returned to their faces. A young cultivator even broke into a small breakthrough, qi swirling around him until he coughed and laughed at the same time.
"Your soup is better than half the pills at the apothecary!" the boy shouted. "Boss, what's your name?"
Shen Yuan paused. He thought for a moment.
"Shen Yuan."
The crowd repeated the name. It carried down the street. Shen Yuan's fame grew with every bowl.
By the third day, the food cart had a permanent line. Merchants sent servants to hold their place. Cultivators argued over who got the last bowl. A city guard even came on patrol, not to stop him but to order two servings.
Shen Yuan kept his face blank. He worked until the pot was empty, then closed for the day without expression.
The fire sprite perched on his shoulder and mimicked his serious face. Customers laughed. Shen Yuan didn't.
****
On the fifth day, that's when trouble arrived.
A group of men in green robes pushed through the crowd. Their sleeves carried the embroidered mark of a leaf with a sword—a branch sect of the Verdant Blade Sect, one of the stronger sects in the region.
The crowd quieted. No one dared argue with cultivators from a sect.
The man at their front was an elder, his hair tied high, eyes sharp. He carried himself like the street belonged to him.
He looked at Shen Yuan, then at the cart. "You are the one called Shen Yuan?"
Shen Yuan ladled broth into a bowl. "Yes."
The elder sniffed the air. "Your soup is… unusual. My disciples have spoken of it. You will come with us to our sect. From now on, you will cook exclusively for the Verdant Blade Sect."
The crowd whispered. Some looked at Shen Yuan with pity. Offending a sect elder was not something anyone in Greenleaf City would dare.
Shen Yuan finished the bowl, set it on the counter, and said flatly:
"No."
The elder blinked. "What?"
"I'm busy." Shen Yuan turned back to the pot.
The fire sprite giggled and stuck its tongue out at the elder.
The elder's face darkened. "Do you understand who I am?"
Shen Yuan ladled another bowl, handed it to a customer, and said nothing.
The elder slammed his palm on the counter. Wood cracked. The rusty cart creaked, but it did not break. A faint glow from its spirit-bound form resisted the force.
The crowd stepped back. Some muttered that Shen Yuan was finished.
The elder sneered. "You refuse our invitation? Do you think a street cook can defy a sect?"
Shen Yuan finally looked at him. His eyes were calm, flat, and tired.
"Soup first. Talk later."
The elder's qi flared, filling the street. The fire sprite jumped, then puffed up its cheeks and spat a tiny spark at him. The spark landed on his sleeve, smoking.
The elder's face turned red. "You dare—!"
Before he could strike, a voice rang out from the crowd.
"Elder, please wait!"
A young woman pushed through. She wore the same green robe but with a disciple's badge. She bowed quickly. "Elder, this man's soup helped me break through my bottleneck. If he comes with us by force, he may never cook again."
The elder frowned at her, then at Shen Yuan. He snorted. "You're lucky my disciple speaks for you. But remember, the Verdant Blade Sect does not take refusal lightly."
He turned and left with his men. The crowd exhaled only after they were gone.
Shen Yuan ladled another bowl as if nothing had happened. "Next."
The line moved again.
That night, Shen Yuan sat behind his cart counting coins. The fire sprite danced in circles. His expression never changed.
The system chimed.
[Side Quest Complete: Resist Sect Recruitment.]
[Reward: Recipe – Spirit Stir-Fry.]
A new recipe appeared in his mind—vegetables tossed with qi-rich sauce. It looked simple, but the system's note said: Chance of attracting Wind Spirits.
Shen Yuan leaned back on his stool. The city outside buzzed with gossip. People whispered of the cook who defied a sect elder and lived. His fame spread faster than ever.
He only muttered once before closing his eyes.
"…Tomorrow will be annoying."