The world dissolved into a nauseating vortex of distorted colors and screaming wind. One moment, Lin Fei's feet were planted on the blood-soaked earth of the clearing, the next, the ground was a rushing blur beneath him, and his stomach was attempting a violent escape through his throat. Su Mingyu's grip on his arm was like a band of chilled iron, unyielding and impersonal. This, he decided, his eyes squeezed shut against the vertigo, was worse than the time his food truck's brakes had failed on the Fourth Ring Road during rush hour. At least then, the laws of physics had felt like polite suggestions rather than actively malicious forces.
"Try not to vomit on my robes," Su Mingyu's voice was a dry, amused whisper in his ear, somehow clear over the roaring chaos surrounding them. "The cleansing arrays are a bother to activate."
"Noted," he managed to choke out, thinking wildly that 'cleansing arrays' sounded like a divine, sentient dishwasher. He'd kill for a dishwasher right now. Or a solid floor. Mostly a solid floor.
The world snapped back into focus with a gut-lurching suddenness that left him swaying on his feet. They stood on a wide, polished platform of white jade that seemed to float at the edge of a mountain peak, overlooking a scene that stole the breath from Lin Fei's lungs and made his recent near-death experiences feel trivial.
The Jade Phoenix Sect was not a collection of buildings; it was an organism carved into the living rock of a mountain range whose peaks pierced the clouds like jagged green teeth. Pavilions with swooping, phoenix-tail roofs of blue tile and dark wood clung to the cliffsides, defying gravity. Delicate-looking bridges of shimmering, crystalline energy spanned bottomless chasms where mist coiled like sleeping dragons. The air didn't just hum; it sang with a dense, palpable energy that made the qi in his dantian spin with frantic, excited joy. It was like stepping into a living postcard for a luxury immortal resort, if the resort was also a military academy run by people who could vaporize you with a thought. The scent of pine, ozone, and distant, exotic blossoms was overwhelming.
Su Mingyu didn't give him time to gawk. Her recovery was absolute; she moved with a lethal, effortless grace that made his own newfound strength feel clumsy and infantile. She marched him down a secluded path, away from the main thoroughfares where disciples in immaculate green and white robes practiced sword forms that cut the light itself, leaving afterimages hanging in the air. They shot curious glances his way—a mortal-looking man in torn, dirty clothes being led by their imposing, and now radiantly powerful, Sect Master. The whispers started before they'd even passed, a susurrus of speculation that grated on his newly enhanced hearing.
"Who is that?" "He looks like he lost a fight with a mud spirit and then fell down a mountain." "Why is the Sect Master herself escorting that…?"
Su Mingyu ignored them all, her posture radiating an aura that screamed 'unapproachable divinity'. She led him to a small, isolated building tucked behind a curtain of water that fell from a high cliff. The waterfall itself was unnatural; faint, glowing scriptwork shimmered within the cascading water, a formation of some kind. It wasn't a prison cell, but the message was clear: out of sight, out of mind. The building was a single, circular room, spartan but clean, with a simple cot, a low wooden table, and a surprisingly well-equipped kitchen hearth built into one curved wall. A complex cold storage rune was etched into the surface of a stone cabinet, pulsing with a soft blue light.
"This is the Reflecting Moon Pavilion. It is yours," she stated, her voice all business now. The wonder from the clearing was gone, replaced by the calculating sharpness of a CEO assessing a new, volatile asset. "You will cook for me here. Twice daily. You will tell any servants you are my new personal physician, specializing in… nutritional therapy. A rare art from a distant land. You are eccentric and reclusive. You speak little. You understand?"
"Nutritional therapy?" Lin Fei repeated, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest. He gestured around the secluded pavilion, the roar of the enchanted waterfall a constant reminder of his isolation. "You want me to be your cosmic nutritionist?"
"I want you to be a secret," she corrected, her eyes flashing with a hint of the lightning she now commanded. "The story is that my recent breakthrough was due to profound insight during my battle with the Vulpex. The alchemy pavilion is already preening, taking credit for the efficacy of their 'life-saving pill'. Let them. It keeps their eyes off you." She leaned forward, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "If anyone discovers the true source of my recovery—of my new power—they will not see a chef. They will see a walking treasure, a key to unimaginable power. They will tear you apart to see what makes you tick. Literally. The alchemists would be the first in line, their pride wounded and their greed ignited."
The graphic image effectively killed any urge to laugh. He nodded, his throat tight. "Understood. Eccentric. Reclusive. Nutritional therapist."
"Good." She produced a small, jade token from her sleeve and tossed it to him. It was cool to the touch, intricately carved with a phoenix motif. "This will allow you to request ingredients from the sect's spirit kitchens. Be mundane. Start with common beast meat, low-level herbs. Do not draw attention. I will provide the… special ingredients… myself, when the time is right." A ghost of a smile touched her lips, a predator's smile. "Consider this your trial period, Chef Lin. Impress me. Do not disappoint me."
With that, she was gone, vanishing between one breath and the next, leaving him alone in the silent pavilion with the roar of the waterfall outside. The weight of his situation crashed down on him. He was a prisoner in a gilded cage, his chef's knife traded for a double-edged sword of incredible power and even greater danger. He was a secret, and secrets had a habit of being discovered.
His first order from the spirit kitchens was a test of his acting skills. He used the jade token, focusing his will on it as instructed, mentally picturing common ingredients: a cut of Spirit-Bristle Boar meat, some basic Verdant Ginseng. Within an hour, there was a dismissive knock on his door.
The disciple who delivered the parcel was young, perhaps a few years younger than Lin Fei, with the arrogant sneer of someone who believed their proximity to power made them powerful. His robes were finer than those of the disciples Lin Fei had seen on the paths, embroidered with a subtle cauldron motif—the mark of the Alchemy Pavilion.
"The Sect Master's new… physician," the disciple said, his tone dripping with condescension as he looked Lin Fei's simple, clean but humble robes up and down. He sniffed the air pointedly. "Smells more like a butcher than a healer. What exactly is your method, outsider?"
Lin Fei remembered Su Mingyu's warning. He put on his best 'eccentric' face, widening his eyes and stroking his chin as if pondering the profound mysteries of the universe. He let his voice go reedy and vague. "The alignment of the five flavors is key to the harmony of the five organs," he intoned, waving a hand vaguely. "The boar's earthy essence must counterbalance the ginseng's woody aggression. It's… very complex. A delicate balance of energies. You wouldn't understand."
The disciple looked momentarily baffled, his sneer faltering in the face of such confident nonsense. Then it returned, sharper. "Barbaric. Superstitious nonsense. True power comes from the purified essence of the pill, not… whatever this primitive mess is." He tossed the package onto the table with a dismissive flick of his wrist and left, shaking his head.
Lin Fei let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The act was exhausting. But as he cooked the boar steak, searing it perfectly and brushing it with a light ginseng glaze, the system quietly analyzed it.
[Dish: 'Seared Spirit-Bristle Boar with Ginseng Glaze' – Grade: Mortal (Mid)] [Effects: Minor Qi nourishment, slight stamina boost.] [Culinary Proficiency +1. Keep cooking!]
It was nothing compared to the Vulpex broth, a mere snack for his burgeoning cultivation, but it was a start. It was safe. He delivered the meal to a silent, nervous-looking servant who arrived precisely at noon, and tried not to think about the fact he was now a personal chef to a goddess-level being who saw him as a useful tool.
Days fell into a strange, tense rhythm. Cook. Deliver. Practice circulating his qi, feeling it grow, inch by inch, with every meal he made, even the mundane ones. The system was a relentless taskmaster, grading every dish, adding tiny increments to a 'Culinary Proficiency' bar he couldn't yet see the use for. He was a hamster on a wheel, running faster just to stay in the same gilded cage.
The catalyst came a week later. The servant who came for the evening meal wasn't the usual silent youth. It was an older woman, her robes of a finer, darker green silk, her hair swept up in an elegant, severe style. Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, missing nothing. She didn't just take the covered dish; she lifted the lid and took a deliberate, slow sniff of the steaming 'Twice-Cooked Rocky-Back Salamander Tail' he'd prepared.
"An interesting aroma," she said, her voice smooth as polished jade. "The salamander's fire qi is pronounced, yet you've tempered it with Frost Moss. A balancing act. Unconventional."
Lin Fei's heart hammered against his ribs. He fell back on his act, widening his eyes. "The fire must be contained, lest it damage the stomach meridian. It is the principle of opposing forces creating harmony—"
"I am Elder Xi, head of the Alchemy Pavilion," she interrupted, her smile not reaching her cold, assessing eyes. "I am well-versed in the principles of elemental balance and meridian therapy. I simply did not realize the culinary arts could achieve such a precise effect." She paused, letting the silence stretch. "The Sect Master's recovery has been… remarkable. Her energy is purer, her aura sharper. It seems your 'nutritional therapy' is far more effective than our humble pills."
The threat was veiled in silk, but it was a threat all the same. She knew. Or at least, she strongly suspected the official story was a lie. She was probing, looking for a crack in his facade.
"The Sect Master's own immense strength is the true catalyst," Lin Fei said, bowing slightly, keeping his voice neutral and respectful. "I merely provide… supportive nourishment. A foundation upon which her power can rebuild."
Elder Xi's smile tightened, becoming a thin, bloodless line. "Of course. A foundation. How… modest of you." Her gaze swept the pavilion, taking in the simple hearth, the lack of alchemical tools, the essence of kitchen that permeated the space. It was an environment she clearly held in contempt. "Well. Continue your good work, physician." She left with the dish, and the air felt colder and heavier for her absence.
Lin Fei sank onto his cot, panic washing over him in a cold wave. The alchemists were suspicious. Their pride was stung. Su Mingyu had been right. He was a secret on the verge of being spilled. He was a duck in a world of wolves, and they were starting to hear the quacking.
That night, Su Mingyu herself appeared in his pavilion without a sound, a phantom materializing from the shadows. She held the plate that had held the salamander tail. It was licked clean.
"Elder Xi paid you a visit," she stated, her voice dangerously calm. She wasn't asking.
"She's curious," Lin Fei said, his mouth dry as dust.
"Curiosity is a prelude to greed," she corrected, her voice a low thrum of power. She paced the length of the small room, the faint scent of ozone and thunderstorms trailing in her wake. Her lightning affinity made the air prickle with static. "We need to accelerate your progress. Your cooking is effective, but we must make it undeniable. We must make you… irreplaceable." She stopped and looked at him, her gaze intense, predatory. "The Inner Sect disciple tournament begins tomorrow. The winner will receive a prize from my own vaults: a Sun-Blessed Peach, plucked from the ancestral tree. Its qi is immense, but raw and violently yang. Consuming it directly would cripple all but the most powerful elder."
A slow, terrifying understanding dawned on Lin Fei. His blood ran cold. "You want me to…"
"Cook it," Su Mingyu finished, a spark of that same insane curiosity from the clearing back in her eyes. It was the look of a gambler about to push all her chips onto a single, insane bet. "The tournament will be over by midday. You will have the peach by afternoon. I will provide a list of supporting ingredients from my private garden—things that would make Elder Xi weep with envy. You will create a dish. A dish that can safely harness that power, that can transform its violent energy into a perfect, digestible breakthrough."
It was an impossible ask. A divine ingredient. A ticking clock. The eyes of the entire sect, especially the jealous alchemy pavilion, would be on the tournament winner and their priceless prize. And she wanted him to turn it into a meal. It wasn't just painting a target on his back; it was building a bullseye around him and launching the first arrow herself.
"This isn't keeping a low profile!" he hissed, his fear momentarily overriding his caution. "This is painting a target on my back in neon lights! Elder Xi will know for sure!"
"It is making the target too valuable to lose," she countered, her voice dropping to a whisper that was all the more menacing for its softness. "A pill master can be replaced. A chef who can transform a Sun-Blessed Peach into an edible breakthrough?" She leaned in, her presence filling the small space. "What happens when the tournament winner, a disciple stuck at the peak of Qi Refining for years, consumes your dish and forms a perfect Gold Core before the sun sets? What happens when that miracle is performed not in a secret lab, but in a humble kitchen, under the nose of the entire Alchemy Pavilion?"
Lin Fei stared at her, the audacity of the plan stealing his words. She wasn't just hiding his power anymore. She was preparing to showcase it, to make his value so blatantly obvious that any move against him would be a direct move against her own skyrocketing power and the future prosperity of her sect. It was a power play of monumental proportions, a declaration of war wrapped in a culinary challenge.
And he was the one who had to deliver the culinary miracle. The ingredients, the reputation, the wrath of the alchemists—it would all be laid at his door. The Reflecting Moon Pavilion no longer felt like a secluded haven. It felt like the center of an arena, and the gates were about to open.
He was no longer just a chef. He was the prize, the weapon, and the gambit, all simmering in the same pot. And the heat was about to be turned up.