rule 12

Chapter 1 - The Stall

Cooking in this world was a nightmare. Trying to explain to these folks that 'bland' isn't a flavor was like trying to teach a fish to fly.

Like most old people, the ones Lei had the fortune to work for had so kindly let him know that they didn't want any of his dishes — anything new, for that matter. Yet, after tasting his pasta, a part of him had expected to be asked if this was what enlightenment tasted like.

Well, there was not much to do about that. They were happy cooking their traditional cuisine, and Lei respected that and settled for being their dishwasher for the most part.

Thankfully, after a month of hard labor and honest sweat, he'd managed to secure a good spot and a little stall in a distant market for his solo venture, allowing him to leave behind those days of suffering.

The place bustled with noise, a crowd of shuffling heads pouring from a great labyrinth of streets into the Eastern Square where dozens of shops and stalls stood in attention. The sunlight shone brightly, and the air was full of that dreamy, captivating smell of incense.

Taking a breath in, Lei first started with the green peppers, cutting them into thin slices, and making sure there were no seeds left in them. Then came the onions, already peeled and cut in half. Laying them flat on the cutting board, which was a piece of wood, Lei diced them beautifully.

Then he stared up at the sun and then down at the square. The morning was in full swing, the crowd growing in numbers at each passing second. Already, some of his regulars were sneaking glances at his stall; though he had to admit, there weren't many of them.

But he was happy. It'd been only a week since he started this stall business, after all, and it hadn't been easy — especially trying to tell these people that 'seasoning' was a thing.

Other than some pepper, coriander, and ginger, the places here mostly didn't bother making a dish flavorful. But the years Lei had spent in kitchens back on Earth prevented him from settling for their simple ways.

He didn't become a Michelin-star chef with just 'okayish' dishes.

Details mattered. Even in this ancient land of China, it was his intention to abide by his kitchen codes. Everything had to be perfect.

The tomatoes almost rolled onto his cutting board once he regarded them with a strict gaze. Strange eggplants, the people called them here, and Lei could see where they were coming from. He diced them before flourishing the old bowl that he'd snatched from Granny Xu's place. That woman owed him at least this much.

Now, his favorite part. Lei cracked ten eggs inside the bowl and stirred them with a stick until they were as yellow as the sun high overhead. With that, all the ingredients for the dish were ready.

It was a dish called menemen.

This recipe came from his mother's side who he hoped was still living in Turkey. Though it looked simple, it was packed with flavors so rich that once eaten, there was no going back. You had to eat it every single day until you'd get sick of it.

After messing around with a couple of different recipes this last week, Lei had finally decided on this dish as his plat principal. He expected great things from it. Perhaps it'd make him enough money to rent a new place, rather than that rotten cage of a house.

It'll help me complete this mission, that's for sure.

[Feed 300 People]

Progress: 285/300

A smile creased his lips as he regarded the blueish screen that floated before him. It came with a thought, and gone, just like that, yet with another thought. He owed his life to this mission. It kept him motivated and gave him a purpose to work for after he found himself in a wrecked home.

Liang Lei, the twenty-year-old young man whose body he had inherited a month ago, and now saw as his soul brother, was an unfortunate guy. Banished from his clan because his meager talent in cultivation, greatly disappointed and disgraced his family line, he had to scrape by in this city all alone until, one day, a pair of cultivators razed his home to the ground as they passed.

It was because of his soul brother's grim death that Lei had decided against staying here, as a mortal, waiting for another nuke to kick him goodbye. That wasn't his choice of a future. No, he'd take the reins into his own hands, even if that meant taking chances against a world that brimmed with monstrous beasts and cracked cultivators.

Just like that wise man who'd said before, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

He hoped his soul brother would do the same. Now and then he tried to find comfort in thinking that maybe, just maybe, the guy experienced a transition just like him. Hell, he could even be bearing a string of curses from his boss for being late right now.

However, he had doubts about whether his body was still one piece after that crash.

Well, that's beyond me, now, pal. Sorry.

Sighing, Lei poured his thoughts back into his work. He'd already spent weeks lost in those thoughts before finally accepting that there was no turning back. This was his life now, and he had to make the best of it.

With the eggs and the other ingredients ready, he lacked one final crucial thing before diving into the cooking process: bread.

He needed it, and he needed it fast, for his competition was already hard at work, luring his potential customers to their sides.

Then, as if in answer to his thoughts, Lei saw a young man bounding across the square like an angry bull, parting the sea of people into two halves. With each step, the fat under his chin wriggled, the bloody apron curving over his belly stretching, and stretching until it seemed it would split.

"Got you your bread, Brother Lei!" he screamed, cradling loaves of bread in a sack gripped tightly in both hands. 

A smile creased Lei's lips. As expected from him, his brother-in-arms in this world, known as the Hasty Butcher around here, didn't disappoint.

But he was a bit late, so Lei asked, "Brother Lou, did something happen? Why are you late?"

"Ah, it's about my… Father," Fatty Lou said, laying a trembling arm onto the stall before gasping himself into a coughing fit. His face was as red as a beet. "He…" — he breathed, hard — "He told me that an old friend…" — he choked once more on his own spit — "came for a visit."

Lei let out the breath he didn't know he was holding once Fatty Lou finished his sentence. Watching him struggle with the words made Lei's heart clench tight in his chest.

"At least he's had enough time to bake the bread," Lei said, reaching for the bread.

As Fatty Lou slumped down near the stall, Lei cut the bread in halves before kindling the firewood. Then he revisited the plan they'd discussed the other day in his mind. Lei had doubts whether it'd be effective or not, but Fatty Lou was too sure of himself, telling him that he'd sell the stuff in no time.

I can only hope he is right.

A smile creased Lei's lips as he rolled up his sleeves. It was time to cook.

Lard, in. The wok sizzled with the touch of the fat, producing the first delicate trail of smoke. The onions were more than ready to dive in and dive in they did. Lei grabbed hold of the handle with one hand, giving the onions a little shake.

Seconds passed as they turned brown and soft. The peppers followed suit, and Lei added more fat for good measure. Butter would've been his first choice, but it was hard to find one that fit his taste, so he had to go with the second-best alternative.

The strong smell of fat mingled with the underlying sweetness of the onions and peppers. As Lei was about to sauté the mix, he couldn't help but glance at Fatty Lou, who seemed to have recovered from his little episode.

"Are you sure that'll work, Brother Lou?" Lei said, frowning.

Fatty Lou nodded with strength as he struggled to his feet and dusted off his apron. "Trust me, they won't know what hit them!"

Soon, Fatty Lou vanished into the crowd, leaving him alone. Lei kept an eye on him as he poured the tomatoes into the mix before sprinkling a pinch of salt and some black pepper powder.

Well, that was it. They were really doing this. As a chef who'd spent most of his time holed back inside the kitchens, Lei had little idea about marketing. But not Fatty Lou. The man had the gift of speech in him, which he planned to put to good use today.

The flavors curled cunningly toward the crowd, and it didn't take long for a small group to gather before the stall. Six or seven people, at most, but it was a start.

Lei could see some familiar faces smiling up at him, old customers who'd tried these 'strange-looking dishes' before. Some others were drawn here by the smell alone, curious faces waiting to see the end result.

Just then, a fat man shouldered his way to the stall, caring not about the looks he got from the group around him. His face was twisted, cheeks flushed, and drops of sweat rolling down his chin.

Suddenly, he pointed a trembling finger to the stall and roared into Lei's face, "Heavens, we're blessed!"

The crowd stepped back at the same time, even the ones strolling about the square stopping as if a strong wind slapped them across the cheek. Some stall owners craned their heads to see about the owner of this mighty voice, only to stiffen.

"This…" Fatty Lou said, closing his eyes and cupping his hands as if in prayer. "The mixture of flavors is almost tingling my nose. Not too strong, but sharp enough to leave you wanting… Can I taste it? Can I dare taste such a novel dish? I'm not sure. I hear a voice whispering into my ears, saying that should I try this dish once, I might never go back again. Will this one dare? Am I worthy enough?"

Lei almost slipped and fell as he was about to add the eggs into the wok. Though he roughly knew Fatty Lou's plan, he'd never told Lei the specifics.

But he wasn't done.

"Are you?" Fatty Lou's eyes snapped open as he jabbed with one thick finger into the crowd, his face twisted up in cold rage. "Are you worthy enough for such a heavenly dish?"

Lei's customers inched slowly nearer the stall as the crowd whispered among themselves. Most had in their eyes the sort of twitch one would get when they are nervous but in a curious way.

He had to stifle a laugh watching them, or else this whole trick would be meaningless. So Lei kept his focused gaze and watched as the eggs splashed into the mix before giving them a slight twist with the stick but didn't stir them too much.

The dish had to look messy, just like a modern painting: it had to present a front that'd make people doubtful and curious at the same time.

"You don't know," Fatty Lou was saying. When Lei looked at him, the man had already sunk to his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he was trying to keep the tears inside. "How can you? Who are you to know? Masters? Hardly seems so. Then crooks? No, it's not it. Is this what they call the courage of the ignorant? The so-called rashness that seldom produces the spark of genius? Tell me! Does the dish say anything to you? Can you hear it?"

Let alone the crowd, even Lei wasn't sure if the dish had anything to say. Still, Lei leaned an ear close to it and heard it sizzling — it was ready. Then he took the halves from the side, cut them open, and started pouring the menemen inside as they exchanged a look with Fatty Lou.

He gave Lei a small nod before rushing toward the stall and snatched the first bread out of his fingers.

After the first bite, his face melted. He licked his lips with practiced fashion and down his chin, then slapped a hand across his thigh, producing a loud sound that echoed all around the square.

When he finished it, he smacked his lips as if to savor the taste for a second longer.

The crowd had gone still. Everyone, from the little group before the stall to the faraway onlookers, seemed frozen in shock.

Lei, too, was busy staring at Fatty Lou, his stomach rumbling as he debated whether he should take the second one or not.

He cursed himself for not eating anything this morning.

Such a rookie mistake.

"Is this reality?" Fatty Lou pleaded, staring up at the heavens, fingers clenched into fists. "Or am I dreaming? Surely this heavenly flavor must be an illusion. Some Honorable Cultivator at work, perhaps? Then this lowly Lou must bow his head and ask forgiveness from this Senior, for this one has but a little wish. Should I— No! Would you let me, oh, Honorable Senior, taste this piece of heaven one more time?"

"Can't be that good, right?" Lei heard a man say, his eyes glinting.

"I don't know… but I want to try," said another who stood beside him, one hand under his chin as he stared at the pieces of bread Lei had unwittingly raised high enough that everyone could see them.

An old man, seemingly mustering his courage, neared the stall, holding some copper coins in his trembling hands. "Young man, how much—"

Fatty Lou snapped his head at him, with a frown as deep as the wrinkles mapping the old man's face.

"Er…" the old man stuttered, glancing around as if to understand what he had done wrong. Then, light dawned in his eyes, and he smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me, Master, how much for a single bread?"

Fatty Lou nodded in approval.

"Six copper coins would be more than enough, sir," Lei said politely, trying hard not to rub his hands together. They were itching.

After the first sale, the others came crashing like a downpour. From left and right reached different hands, holding coins, pressing tight into each other while Lei sweated under the endless assault.

Lei's heart thumped with joy as he watched the coins piling up in one corner. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in far too long. Lost in the hustle of kitchens and pretentious jerks that were his patrons, he had almost forgotten the simple pleasure of cooking for others. But here, amidst the bustling market and eager customers, everything felt refreshingly real.

Watching those people eating his dishes, smacking their lips, smiling as juice trailed down their chins reminded him of the old times when he'd been just a simple cook. It reminded him of why he'd fallen in love with cooking in the first place.

Without even realizing it, another batch was ready. With practiced ease, Lei poured the menemen into the waiting bread, the savory aroma mingling with the scent of freshly baked dough. Lei passed the steaming portion to the next eager customer without looking.

Then a voice dinned inside his ears.

[Feed 300 People]

[Starting Mission Completed!]

[System Initializing…]

…..

"At length, a worthy disciple…" a tired voice echoed deep beyond the heavens.

"Took you long enough, Old Xiang," another one said with relief in his voice.

"Mm. I was the last one in our ranks to find a new disciple."

"The Heavenly Dao… Is slowly slipping from our fingers!"

"The pieces are set. We can only hope this will be enough."

Chapter 2 - Novice

Ding!

Name: Liang Lei

Age: 20

Class: Chef

Tier: Novice 1

Skills: Eyes of the Yellow Maiden.

Cooking Skills: None.

What do you mean novice?!

Lei's first reaction to the blue screen that hovered before his eyes was to gawk at the tier part. They had to be shitting with him, thinking that he was a novice chef.

If he was a Novice chef then what about the others? Surely the system, or whatever the hell this was, wouldn't see them as cooks.

Easy now. You're being too hard on these people. Not their fault, right? They did nothing to you.

He drew in a deep breath to clear his mind, just to find dozens of people staring strangely at him. It was only then that he remembered he was in the middle of the market, behind the stall, cooking for a little crowd.

"The next batch will take some time," he said, smiling out into their faces for good measure.

Yes. Focus on the work at hand. You can wrack your brain some other time.

Lard, in. The sizzling wok and the curling smoke welcomed him into their warm hands, pulling him away from the system's bullshit. The onions were happy to dive in, and the peppers mixed beautifully right in their ranks.

"Hey, are you all right?" Fatty Lou said with concern in his eyes. "Let's take a break, if you want. We've already sold enough—"

"I'm fine, don't worry," Lei cut him straight away. This was good. Cooking eased his mind and allowed him to break free from his worries.

Add the tomatoes. Stir the mix with a stick. Ten eggs, all yellow and spotless. Don't forget the salt and the black pepper.

He found his way back into that monotonous rhythm, and the world slowly became light again. He swept the tomatoes from the chopping board, giving the wok a little shake before pouring them inside, breathing in the salty smell.

But then again, there was a lot to think about. It wouldn't hurt to check it, right? Not like he had anything better to do while waiting for the dish to cook.

Alright. Let's see.

First, he raised one hand over the Tier part, his smile straining at the edge of his lips. Then he focused his thoughts on the [Eyes of the Yellow Maiden] skill.

[Eyes of the Yellow Maiden: MAX] - The Yellow Maiden's eyes leave nothing unseen.

Well, that was helpful. Lei expected the system would give him clear instructions, or at least tell him how he could use this thing. But seemed as if it preferred a rather direct approach.

So Lei focused on his eyes. Closed them. Pinched them hard. But soon it occurred to him that he didn't remember what color his eyes were. Black, was it?

Is the color really that important? The intent is what matters—-

A peculiar sensation pricked his skin. Felt like a cold wind was slithering up his legs, through his chest, and finally settling over on his lids. His eyes jerked wide open, staring round down at the sizzling wok.

[Common Wok: Poor Quality]

What?

He blinked, and this time, focused on the ladle that lay near the wok.

[Common Ladle: Poor Quality]

Okay.

He shook his head, and gazed down at the chopsticks in his hand, juice dripping down their edges.

[Common Chopsticks: Good Quality]

Lei blew out a long breath. There was a budding headache crawling from the nape of his neck, sending jolts of pain up his head.

At least the menemen looked ready.

[Menemen - Basic Dish]

"Alright, next up!" he shouted, waving off the screen as though it was an annoying fly. He took the bread, sweat trickling down his back, and poured the menemen inside.

His hands almost blurred as he delivered one order after another, stealing glances from the coin pile that kept growing at the side from time to time. It helped to see them glinting under the sun. It sang, the money did, and its sound was the most beautiful thing in the world.

[Copper Coin: Poor Quality]

Can you just stop?!

"Brother Lei," came a voice from the side. "Your eyes…"

Lei snapped his head at Fatty Lou, glaring out into his face, furious for no particular reason. He squinted up and thought of bugs and flowers to keep his focus away from his eyes. He didn't have in him to see if the system would list certain qualifications of his only friend in this xianxia world.

"What about my eyes?" he asked, hoping that little trick had done the job.

Fatty Lou looked rather doubtful but still nodded. "For a second I thought I'd seen them blazing, but they look normal now."

"Must be the heat," Lei said.

"Yeah, it's bloody hot today." Fatty Lou forced out a smile.

Blazing eyes, and a sudden fury. Are these the side effects of this skill?

Though he didn't know who this Yellow Maiden was, there was no doubt that he had to be careful while using this skill. This was a xianxia world, and for all he knew, there could be a cultivator posing as some wrinkled old man to experience the mortal life to rid of his inner demons hiding in the crowd.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Still, he couldn't help the smile settling widely on his lips. From the first moment he opened his eyes and saw that floating screen he knew something was strange. The reincarnation part hardly seemed like a normal affair, too, but he'd made peace with that way faster than he'd thought.

A month spent inside a rotten cage of a house that had been wrecked and burned by a stray cultivator's nuke made it hard to dwell too much on these things.

But this system was new. It deserved some attention. For the whole month, he'd been busting his ass to unlock this damned thing, and now his efforts were finally rewarded.

Other than that eye skill, though, there didn't seem to be any particular use of this thing. He'd at least expected a cultivation manual, a real cheat like those people got in some novels.

There was a pause in his thoughts as he felt the cold wind ease through his skin again, a curious snake slithering round his chest. He hooked a finger around his collar to check if there was anything different but saw only smooth, hairless skin. Nothing was out of place in his body, but the cold was there.

Then it got colder still, and Lei started trembling. Felt like he'd dropped dead into a blizzard, shaking senseless, rubbing his arms in an effort to spread some warmth around his chest. A jab, followed by another voice made him double over the stall, breath wheezing in his chest, heart pounding in his head.

It was as though thousands of needles were trying to run him through.

"Uh," he grunted, feeling with one hand the stall, searching for something to balance his feet as the world spun around him.

A strong arm grabbed him by the shoulder, pulled him closer, and nailed his body back on the ground. Fatty Lou was speaking, but other than the strange buzzing inside his mind, Lei couldn't hear a damn thing.

What the fuck is happening?!

Eyes round at the crowd, people gulped down their dishes one by one, smacking their lips contently. Lei found that at each bite the needles poking at him grew in numbers, scores of them pressing him tight from all around.

"Stop!" he shouted, waving a hand to the crowd. "Stop eating!"

"Brother Lei, are you—"

Lei yanked Fatty Lou by the collar, stared up at his eyes, and pleaded, "Make them stop…"

Fatty Lou looked greatly disturbed, but nodded at the words before roaring into the crowd, "Stop it! I want all of you to stop eating!"

People stopped. Lei could feel the pain around his chest alleviate into a mild sting. Rather than the needles, now it felt like there were thousands of ants crawling round his body. He set his jaw tight as he resisted the urge to scratch the itch, but there wasn't any part of his body that didn't ache from that episode.

He didn't have the time to consider any of that when a blue screen popped up before his eyes.

Your [Tier] has increased by 1 level.

Eh?

Skill Choices are available!

Ding!

[Soothing Touch - Novice 1]: Infuse your dishes with a calming aura that affects both you and the consumers of the food, reducing stress and increasing focus.

[Essence Enhancement - Novice 1]: Increases the potency of spiritual ingredients you use in your dishes.

[Spiritual Sensitivity - Novice 1]: Allows you to discern the spiritual essence of ingredients, identify hidden properties, and detect spiritual anomalies.

Lei stepped back, sweat trickling down his face. He didn't know what to do, or which one to choose.

I need to think before making a decision.

He dismissed the interface and wiped his face with the back of his hand as he stared at the crowd. They were waiting for his word, fingers clenched tight around loaves of bread. Lei gave Fatty Lou a nod.

"Go on, finish them up!" Fatty Lou said, and the crowd started devouring the dishes while Lei braced himself for another wave.

It wasn't hard to understand. There was something, some connection between the food and the pain. Each bite was a jab at his core, but it also boosted the system on some level.

Is this spiritual energy? Feels like it. I'm gaining energy as they eat my food.

Lei sighed, and slumped over on the side, threw his head back, and stared out into the skies. He raised a hand when he saw Fatty Lou's concerned face.

They had sold enough.

The energy poked him good, but as the people finished their meals, the pain became more bearable. Sighing a breath of relief, Lei focused on the system once again.

Twisted, and dangerous, but exciting, too, isn't it?

A curious thing — that's what it was. Strange that some system had taken his soul away after that crash, hurtled it down here, and made him a chef again. Not that he had any complaints. Quite the opposite, he would've become a chef himself if given the choice.

He didn't know any other thing. For all his life he'd worked in this kitchen or that, trying to carve out a little place for himself in the big bad world. No doubt it changed him, but he was less sure now if the change had been a good one.

A slave. Yes. That's what that change was all about. The only thing his dishes had done was to make some bastard richer. The smug smiles, those pompous fools, the sight of the crying cooks; scenes flashed before his eyes, and he was the bad one in most of them. He'd become a dog on their leash. Told himself there was no other way.

But this was… different. Things did start to seem a touch brighter to his eyes, now that he thought about it. It'd been this way after he opened his eyes to this strange world.

"Brother Lou," he said, wincing up his feet, and taking a last look at the crowd. "Let's call it a day."

Fatty Lou fixed him with a scowl. "I don't know what's happened to you, but you look like shit."

That was another way of putting it. But it was a good kind of shit if Lei had to say so himself. He clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. "I've never felt better."

"Fair enough," Fatty Lou said. "You go and rest. I'll deal with the stall."

"Thanks." Lei turned away and waved his arms to see if they'd sing. They didn't. "I'll see you tonight," he said and made for the old house.

Chapter 3 - Ruins

The streets stretched away, pressed by the ruins of the houses on both sides, a mess of debris and old belongings roasting under the blazing sun. Lei's home was on the third block, past Sidestone Street, a one-story affair that had half its roof missing.

That roof had been the end of his soul-brother.

He sighed as his hold around the sack in his arms tightened. Even a simple step earned him a great deal of protest from his muscles, but there was a wide smile on his lips as he trudged through the streets, and the jingle of the coins inside the pockets made for a good song. He felt a richer man now, both in body and spirit.

It'd been a hell of a morning.

He had half the mind to pick a skill, to be honest. He was never much for patience. But for this once, he held himself back and decided more thinking was warranted in this case.

I have to be careful.

One thing was clear, though. The system wanted him to dab his hands into cultivation. All the skills demanded spirituality in one shape or form.

Trouble was, the previous owner of this body had been kicked from his clan for a good reason: he had only nine spirit roots, meaning he didn't have a chance to sense, or gain control over Qi.

The average cultivator had about forty roots, so the difference wasn't something he could close with simple effort. There were heavenly pills and treasures that could allow him to grow new spirit roots, but those were rare things one could only hope to chance upon.

Not to mention that this city, Jiangzhen, rested in a backwater region far away from those Immortal Cities where heavenly treasures and pills were a dime a dozen.

But even if he couldn't sense Qi, he could still try to climb up the first stage of cultivation, which was the Body Tempering Stage. This was essentially a preparation stage, where a cultivator focused on growing his muscles and cleansing the body from the mortal dust.

In theory, everyone could punch and kick their way through the nine steps of the Body Tempering Stage. But according to his soul-brother's memories, it took at least five to ten years for talentless people to climb a single step without relying on external resources like medicinal pills and elixirs. And those things cost an arm or a leg.

Rounding a corner, Lei was just about to check the skills when a bustle of noises pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Lei! Lei!"

"We're hungry! Please make something for us!"

"Big Brother Lei! Did you bring any eggs?"

A group of children came flocking round him, reaching with hands, pulling him from the arms, staring expectantly at the sack he held in his arms. Their robes had been patched way more than they should, but their eyes glinted with innocent joy.

"Alright, stop pulling!" Lei said, pressing his lips into a straight line as he tried to don the mask of a slightly angry older brother. He failed, like he often did, as a smile creased his lips. "You have to wait and be patient. Being patient earns you your keep!"

The children hopped away from him as they formed a straight line, a bunch of shuffling legs too excited to stand still. They looked like little soldiers hungry after a busy morning.

"Be good, that's right," Lei said, nodding at them with a slight smile

Then he gave each one of them a bread filled with menemen from the morning, patted their head, and pinched their cheeks before letting them eat their sandwiches at the side. Thankfully, he didn't forget to bring the sack with him after all that shit he'd gone through.

"Big Brother Lei, can you give me two more? Zhong Chao is sick, and Little Mei is taking care of him, so I'll give these to them," said a boy with a round face. Unlike the others, he had a different air about him, and different eyes, too, that glinted with a stubborn light.

"Little Sunjie—"

"You've promised you'd call me Snake!" the boy said, pursing his lips.

Lei sighed tiredly, but he knew better than to argue with this little devil. "Alright, sneaky Snake. Tell me, what happened to Little Chao?"

Snake shrugged. "Something about his stomach, I think. We visited Aunt Lifen's house, but they said she'd gone to Eastern Dew Village for her monthly visit. So we'll have to wait for her to check if Zhong Chao's really sick or not."

"Eastern Dew Village?" That place was a day's trot from here. It would at least take Aunt Lifen one or two days to come back.

Snake nodded, then pointed at the sack. "Can I take those?"

Lei gave him three, just in case. "You know where to find me if something's wrong. Now be good, and take care of your team."

Snake saluted him in a practiced fashion and hopped back to the crowd. It was a little trick Lei had taught the kids after dealing with their rather unruly behaviors.

He tried to manage a smile as he watched them devour the sandwiches, but each day it was becoming harder and harder to keep a front against these kids. Most had lost their parents to that attack and were now living around the ruins. The Governor's Office had saved dozens from the wreckage, but not every child had that fortune.

These were dangerous times, is all. Dangerous, and strange, it had to be said. There was only so much a man could do for them. Feed them, sure, but beyond that, Lei was helpless.

"You're early," a rough voice came from the back, followed by a loud thumping noise of a cane that made the children jump back.

"It's Grumpy Ji!"

"Old Monster!"

"Run!"

The children scuttled away like mice before a tiger when the owner of that voice thumped his famed bamboo cane on the ground once again, staring tiredly after them.

Lei shook his head as he turned to Old Ji. "And I'm happy to see you too, Old Ji."

"You're pampering them too much!" Old Ji grumbled.

His face was a map of wrinkles, framed by thin, gray strands of hair that danced lazily in the wind. He always had something between a frown and a scowl on his face, but Lei knew he was more than that tough shell.

"Somebody has to do it, don't you think?" Lei said. There was some talk about a relief package that supposedly would come from the capital, but a month had passed after the assault, and nobody had seen or witnessed anything as such.

"If this continues, they'll never learn how to take care of themselves!" Old Ji, as always, was too realistic in his thinking.

"Is that why you keep patrolling around these streets? Keeping those thugs away from the ruins?" When the man raised an eyebrow at those words, Lei gave him a little smile. "Yes, I know. Some brooding monster stalking people during the night. Aren't you too old for that?"

"Hmph!" Old Ji raised his cane at him, its point inching closer to Lei's face. "I do no such thing!"

"Right, my mistake." Lei ran a hand through his long, dark hair as he regarded the old man. His legs were too skinny, and even with the cane, he was rocking back and forth as though a leaf bearing a strong wind. Thus, Lei didn't want to keep him for too long.

Reaching into the sack, he pulled out a bread and gave it to the old man. "Here, I want you to try this."

Old Ji frowned. "I don't need your pity. I can take care of myself."

"I know that." Lei sighed out a breath. "Know that too well, I'm afraid. But I made something different this time, and nobody has near the culinary experience you have around here, Old Ji. Eat this, and tell me what you think."

"Uh," Old Ji snorted again but took the bread. Lei gave him a grateful nod.

After he watched the old man huffing his way back to his house, Lei trudged silently toward his own place. It was never wise to idle round a grumpy, old man. He had a choice to make, but before that, he thought a good rest would do him good.

….

His house was not much for living. It had a straw-filled bed, some pots, and a spare wok he'd snatched from someplace masquerading as a restaurant near the city center, a wooden drawer, and a table. Simple things as you would expect from simple times.

Lei had patched the wounded roof with the planks he'd gathered around the ruins and stretched a mat over on it to keep the rain away. It wasn't the most reliable thing you'd have over your head, but he was more than proud of the work he had done. It'd been one of the many firsts he'd achieved in this world.

After he poured himself over the bed, he called the system interface.

Name: Liang Lei

Age: 20

Class: Chef

Tier: Novice 2

Skills: Eyes of the Yellow Maiden.

Cooking Skills: Skill Choice Available!

That novice part still nagged him, but he was beginning to think that perhaps the system hadn't been too mindful of his qualifications before grading him. It could also be that the Tier part didn't have any correlation with his cooking skills — technical and theoretical, for that matter.

Other than that, it looked simple enough. There were no stats, and no new missions that'd have him face off monstrous beasts or murderous cultivators to gain some shining gems or spiritual tools. He was a cook for most of his life, and even in this world, he wasn't planning to change that.

He certainly didn't want any of that killing and butchering. Searching for ingredients, hunting for spiritual beasts, now that was something he could get on with.

Might as well become a Spirit Chef.

That seemed near good as being an Immortal. Leave all the fighting and killing to the nutjobs, and open himself a good restaurant by some spiritual river. That sounded like a dream, and a good one, he was thinking.

Let's see about these skills, then.

[Soothing Touch - Novice 1]: Infuse your spiritual dishes with a calming aura that affects both you and the consumers of the food, reducing stress and increasing focus.

[Essence Enhancement - Novice 1]: Increases the potency of spiritual ingredients you use in your dishes.

[Spiritual Sensitivity - Novice 1]: Allows you to discern the spiritual essence of ingredients, identify hidden properties, and detect spiritual anomalies.

The system obliged, showing him the list of skills he could choose from. Then again, it didn't serve any other purpose than showing him the things he already knew. Trying to ask questions, or demanding more clear explanations got him nothing in return, so it seemed he had to go about with a trial-and-error approach for most things.

His gut told him that Spiritual Sensitivity could be useful, but he didn't know if the system considered cultivators as spiritual anomalies, or would see them as possible ingredients for some wicked concoction that involved spiritually enhanced cultivator intensities and the mortal dust that'd probably make for good seasoning.

Not that he was planning to cook cultivators in the foreseeable future.

But even if he could somehow sense the malicious intent of a cultivator that had their eyes fixed on him, he wasn't sure if he had the skills to escape from such a disaster. The patched roof was a good testament to that fact.

To be honest, this skill seemed like it'd be a good fit for a cultivator who already had a strong foundation rather than a mere mortal.

Pass.

The [Soothing Touch] made him curious and reminded him of the drugs college students took for exams, but he didn't know if being hyper-focused would do him any good in the culinary field.

It could've been a broken cheat for a highly talented genius that'd allow them to meditate or cultivate for days and months. He also wondered if the stress-reducing effect had any sedative side about it. Who knew, perhaps with this skill he could cook some serious drugs that'd make cultivators see even more colors with their spiritual vision.

Can make for a good career. But I'm not sure these people need more drugs. They're already beyond saving as it is.

The third, and last option was the [Essence Enhancement]. Now, this skill could be more than it seemed. Spiritual ingredients, to Lei's thinking, was a rather extensive topic. Minerals, plants, beasts, or anything that had some semblance of spirituality could very well be considered as spiritual ingredients.

Above all that, though, it could boost his talent, or turn the normal dishes into spiritual meals that could imitate the effects of, say, a medicinal pill. To what extent he could enhance the ingredients would be crucial for that, but given enough time, this skill had the biggest potential.

They already sold spirit rice and spirit vegetables in some high-end restaurants in the city center. They weren't cheap, of course, but Lei could at least try to buy some.

But that [Soothing Touch]…

My head will explode at this rate. I need to rest.

The system hadn't said anything about a time limit, so there was no need for him to make a choice right now. After a good rest, and a talk with Fatty Lou, he could make a more informed decision.

Lei closed the door to his house, shutting out the chaotic world outside. He collapsed onto his bed, the straws poking him from all around. Sleep came right away.

Chapter 4 - Spirit Rice

It was a beautiful night in the eastern part of Jiangzhen, and the cobbled streets hosted a great crowd that strolled under the stars. Some ladies wore make-ups so thick that Lei reckoned you could season a wok with them, and some others preferred simple attires fitting the cool and serene air of the night.

Lei nodded here and there to the acquaintances he'd made during his time as a dishwasher as he trudged through the crowd. Not the most distinguished bunch, these people, but seeing them almost washed away that sensation of being a complete stranger in a different world. And they did save him from brooding alone with his thoughts. Gave him something to work for.

He'd always be grateful for that.

Past the Eastern Square, the hawkers were busy screaming into the crowd, their stalls lit brightly under the lanterns and adorned with veils and ornaments of their own making. Their grand display stretched from rugs to basic tools, and further along, gave way to robes of quality silk and carved wood paintings that greeted mostly the ladies, who were either ushered away by experienced husbands with a slight tap on the shoulder, or directed towards less expensive, but equally gorgeous, options.

Though he and Fatty Lou spent most nights out in the streets, Lei still hadn't gotten used to their ways. He knew people tend to forget certain things, and had that ability to carry on from even the gravest disasters, but the folks here didn't seem to remember that one-third of the city's eastern part had gone missing some weeks ago.

Better to carry on than dwell too much on the past. Lei guessed there was wisdom to be gained somewhere in there, but it didn't quite sit well with him.

Fatty Lou was waiting for him at Swirling Frog, a two-story teahouse that stood just around the corner, stools and tables scattered before its front yard. He sipped from the ceramic cup as his eyes wandered here and there, but mostly toward the young ladies.

He didn't look much, but he knew his way around the women.

Lei tapped the shoulder of an old man as he passed through the stools, smiling down at his face, "Master Feng, another pot for us."

Master Feng's dark eyes snapped at Fatty Lou and then back at him. He gave him a nod and vanished inside the teahouse.

Lei poured himself over a stool before Fatty Lou and shuffled under the questioning gaze of his brother-in-arms.

"What?" Lei asked when that gaze got a little too much for him.

"What do you mean 'What'?" Fatty Lou placed the cup back on the table and frowned at him. "We've busted our asses for the whole week, but not once have I seen you like that. You've a fever or what? That sickness, maybe, that's been going around in the city? What was the name again? Longfever, was it?"

Lei shook his head. "I'm fine, Brother Lou. All that work must've gotten to me, that's all. This stall business is harder than I thought."

"Mm." Fatty Lou rubbed his chin, then clicked his tongue. "You're not wrong, but it makes me worry, you know? When do you plan to get rid of that damned house, anyway? Living with all that dust and ruins can't be good for your health."

"Money is better spent on more important things," Lei said, tapping a finger to the table. "I've a roof over my head, and a bed to sleep in. A man has to live frugally if he wants to work out a capital for ventures, right?"

"Exactly!" Fatty Lou waved a finger into his face. "A dead man has no use for things like money. You're always around those kids, and that's dangerous. You know what my Mother used to say about children?"

"What?"

"That they're nothing but a bunch of walking diseases! Always coughing and sniffing, those little devils, sucking at sticks, pebbles! Anything they find they think of as something to be eaten or at least deserving of a lick!"

"Come now, brother, don't be too heartless." Lei smiled slightly at him.

"I'm not being heartless. If you want to help them, help them, that's fine with me, but don't do it at the risk of your health. We need you up and running if we want to fix them a place."

"You're right, but this really has nothing to do with them," Lei said.

Fatty Lou was just about to press him when Master Feng came with a teapot and two new cups, laying them gently over on the table before fixing them with a curious gaze. The man was a mute, got his tongue cut as punishment for speaking too loud back in the day, or at least that's what the people round the teahouse joked about now and then, but he had his eyes for all that talking, and they did a damned good job for the most part.

And they say he has the sharpest ears across the city.

So Lei waited for him to clear away before leaning closer to Fatty Lou. A simple motion, but it hooked the man enough that he perked his ears up for him.

"Something happened," Lei said, staring around himself to check if anybody was listening. Different faces, dozens of them, were too busy talking loud and laughing to pay them heed. "It's a bit hard to explain. So I won't."

Best we treat with caution here.

Fatty Lou smacked him on the head with two fingers, face twisted up in rage. "Are you playing with me, bastard? Speak up! You know I'm not the one for patience."

Lei jerked his head back, stifling a laugh, "That's why you can't find a good wife, brother, instead you're fooling around with all those ladies. Improper and immoral, don't you think? What if Master Li finds out? Think he'll kick you out of the house?"

"I'm twenty fucking years old, you think I'd fear a wrinkled old man? And don't start with the wife-talk. There's not enough beauty in this place to chain my soul in some dusty house to father a bunch of bastards. Thought we were aiming higher, no? Become rich and get ourselves a place in one of those Immortal Cities, eh? Clear your damned head and focus on the mission, and tell me what the hell has happened!"

"I'm thinking it's best I show you because I don't know how to explain." How can you explain to a man that you have a system stuck in your soul, giving you skills and showing you screens? "But for that, we need some spirituality."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we need spiritual ingredients. Some restaurants near the city center sell spirit rice, yeah?" Lei asked, feeling the coins inside his pocket. He'd probably have to spend a week's-worth of earnings to get a handful of that rice, but it was for a good cause. You can't be stingy when you've got a system in your head.

But Fatty Lou gave him an exaggerated sigh. "We've had this talk already. You can't trust those places. That's no spirit rice they're selling, that product is foul and of poor quality. Just some scraps they'd bribed out from the Alchemy Guild and the Adventurer's Guild."

"I know that, but you have to trust me on this one," Lei said.

It took more than just spiritual energy to raise such crops, and the demand was already high enough that nobody would risk a journey across the forests and mountain paths to sell spiritual ingredients to a city as mortal as Jiangzhen. But it was possible to sweep some now and then if you had the right connections in the Empire's own Alchemy Guild and Adventurer Guild.

"You're… serious," Fatty Lou said, narrowing his eyes. "If that's the case, I know a place. But first, drink your tea."

…..

The center of Jiangzhen was a beast on its own, its roads paved and cared for, rows of shops almost too bright to look at. The robes people wore here had a different sound about them as they flapped and creased with the wind. Seemed to Lei's eyes that flower embroidery was making a comeback. The last time he'd come here these ladies were all about birds and bees.

And the streets were too wide. It was always the case with the rich folk here. They liked things wider and deeper.

Fatty Lou led the way with the confidence of a young master, chin high and chest puffed out like a proud rooster amongst the chicken. He was made for great things, he'd often say, and he certainly had the right attitude for it. Just that he was lacking on the money front.

But Lei didn't like it here. This whole place smelled and looked too fake for his taste. Just like those shopping streets in big cities back on Earth, here people greeted each other with mysterious smiles that spoke of deeper things.

It was always about a deal or an exchange with these people, and Lei had his fill when he thought working for richer folk would be a good idea. Foolish of him, of course, but it made him see the greater truth about this city, and he couldn't say he was too surprised when he'd found that it was all the same.

Money talked, people listened.

They came upon a great street that had short buildings, their tiles painted and lined with gold, lanterns hanging down the roofs latched with sparkling hooks. Flavors of dishes and perfumes splashed out across from the half-opened doors, filling the street with a rich wave of fog that beckoned customers for a treat.

"You think they'll give us the rice uncooked?" Lei asked, rather doubtful of this arrangement.

"I know a guy here," Fatty Lou said, squinting up at a place called 'Moonlight Delight' with a smile on his face. "Just prepare the money."

Lei clutched the coins inside his pocket as he stared at the two ladies fanning themselves before the door. It must've taken a great deal of powder to paint all that skin cloud-white, but at least they made a show of their efforts and looked quite triumphant as men, older and younger, poured inside while sneaking glances from them.

"You sure this place sells rice?" Lei asked. Seemed to him that his brother had done some injury to the truth.

"Don't worry, they sell everything here." Fatty Lou smiled as he clapped him on the back before making his way through the door.

Lei followed him, raising a hand when the ladies so kindly invited him for a cool drink in the back rooms. Fatty Lou had shown him those kinds of rooms before, so Lei could proudly say it wasn't a first for him, but he was a touch curious as it seemed this place had some quality about it.

We've other business to be about, ladies, my apologies.

Once inside, the starlight gave way to the soft red of the lanterns that lined the wooden beams, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space. The air was thick with perfumes, and it got thicker still when they stepped into the great hall.

Dozens of tables were crowded with patrons, mostly rich men, accompanied by the ladies of the house as they gulped away their worries. Right around the left side was an opening where a lonely woman sat on a tasseled cushion, clad in elegant reds as she plucked the strings of a zither.

Ancient times and modern times. Not that different when you've seen them both.

Fatty Lou led the way through the throng, weaving between the tables with practiced ease, and out toward a side door that didn't fit the lively ambiance of the hall with its flat face. He knocked on the door twice, and then it clicked open, revealing a middle-aged man with short, gray hair.

"Little Lou?" The man cocked an eyebrow at him, stepped back, and gestured to them to get inside. "You've honored me with this visit! Come inside!"

"It's been too long, Uncle Zhang!" Fatty Lou smiled widely at him and shrugged when Lei gave him a questioning look.

You have an uncle in a brothel? This guy is something else.

Lei shook his head as he sat down on a chair, dragged it screeching near the desk that had dozens of papers stacked over on it. Fatty Lou and the old man were seated soon, both smiling round at each other.

"Father misses you," Fatty Lou started. "You've gone for so long that we'd nearly forgotten your face!"

"These are tough times, Little Lou, you know that." Uncle Zhang shook his head at him. "But sometimes even I don't know what I'm doing here around the brothels."

"Somebody has to keep these accounts, right? They can't find anyone better than you," Fatty Lou said, then straightened his back and leaned closer to him. "Uncle Zhang, I don't want to keep you for too long, so I'm just going to tell it to you straight. I need something, and I was thinking that maybe you could help me with that."

"Oh?" Uncle Zhang said, his eyes widening in surprise. "Go on, say it. If it's anything this old man can do, he will do his best for his nephew!"

Fatty Lou glanced at Lei before speaking in a solemn voice, "We need some spirit rice. Uncooked, untouched. Straight from the source, if you will. Not much, just a handful or two. We've brought the money for it."

Lei pulled the coin pouch from his pocket and put it on the table. Fatty Lou snatched it with a quick hand, staring up at the old man.

Uncle Zhang frowned. "Spirit rice? What are you going to do with spirit rice? Don't you know they're selling poor-quality rice here? Yes, it's rather tasteful and good for your bones, but it isn't anything like those real spirit rice we'd eaten back in Lanzhou."

Lanzhou? That's where my soul brother's clan resides. A month's trot away from here.

"I'm aware, but as I've said, we don't need much of it," Fatty Lou said.

Uncle Zhang took the money pouch, stuck a finger inside, and checked the coins. "It's tough…" he said, scowling down at them. "But if it's important to you, I think I can arrange some."

"I knew we could count on you, Uncle Zhang!" Fatty Lou slapped his thigh and sprung on his feet, rounded the desk, and hugged the old man till his bones groaned. The poor man's face reddened like a beet from lack of breath, but his eyes were glinting.

"Hah!" he choked out a laugh when Fatty Lou got back on his seat and left him gasping. Then he waved a hand over them, "You two wait here while I go and get your rice. Don't make a fuss!"

Lei nodded like a little child under the man's gaze, and Fatty Lou didn't look much different than a real child, to be honest. For a second he turned into a kid who got candies and chocolate for just being there.

"So, spiritual cooking, is it?" he said when the old man left them alone. "But you know we can't do much with a handful or two. Not like these people would give us a whole sack. They're too stingy about these things."

"It's not for selling," Lei said. If [Essence Enhancement] would work as he thought, then they wouldn't be selling those dishes. Not before they got high on some spiritual energy, that is. "I'm thinking we might have a real shot at this cultivation business, after all."

Fatty Lou stiffened, his eyes narrowing down. "What do you mean by cultivation? Between you and me, there's not enough roots for a fucking sapling! You think some spirit rice will solve that problem?"

"Just let your brother cook," Lei said. "We'll soon see if this thing's half as good as it sounds."

Chapter 5 - Getting High

Back at the house, Lei felt himself lighter after parting with his coin poach. Not the worst of his purchases, but he did feel the sting from giving away a week's worth of earnings to that shady, a little too colorful for his taste, brothel that apparently thought serving spirit rice to their customers would aid them in their night-long endeavor.

Makes you curious.

Checking the rice, Lei wasn't sure if this thing could boost anything in practice.

[Spirit Rice: Mortal-grade, Low Quality]

Now, the mortal-grade part caught his eye, it had to be said. By this logic, there should be heavenly-grade spirit rice somewhere near the capital, or perhaps far away in the deeper parts of the wide world, cultivated by caring and loving hands.

Those treasured specimens, unfortunately, weren't meant for mortals like them. Lei doubted there was anything heavenly in Jiangzhen, considering most of the population didn't even bother to cultivate.

Guess I can't blame them.

"Are we cooking or what?" Fatty Lou said, slumped over on the bed, staring out from the wooden shutters toward the night sky outside. He seemed bored and rather angry. He'd said something about debts and favors along the way, but Lei hadn't been in the mood to lend him an ear.

He had other worries — expectations, to be clear, from the new skill he'd just picked.

[Essence Enhancement - Novice 1]: Increases the potency of spiritual ingredients you use in your dishes.

He was worried because he didn't know if the skill would poke him through the chest like he'd experienced the other day. That seemed like it had something to do with his dishes being eaten by others, but still, there was no way for him to be sure of it.

Trial and error, you're saying.

He wasn't a stranger to trying and failing at things alright. Working up a menu inside a Michelin-star kitchen had everything to do with this practice, after all. Most days even the sleep left him as he delved too deep into the ingredients, constantly mixing them inside his mind, trying to come up with gorgeous, and tasty dishes that would be served in small portions, just so the people would feel at ease spending hundreds on them.

Give them a plate full of noodles, the most delicious fucking thing in the world, then they'd start complaining about the prices.

Can't do anything about that, now, can I? Let's start our spiritual journey.

He split the rice into three parts; a handful of it he'd cook without using the skill, just to see how effective and spiritual this thing really was. The other part would be graced by the [Essence Enhancement], which Lei hoped would bring the rice to new spiritual heights. And the rest would be saved for later use.

I should keep my expectations low.

That was easy to say, of course. For all his life he was a man of expectations, and by extension, had his fair share of disappointments. Funny now that he thought about all those times he'd cursed himself for being a failure. Those worries and all that depression felt somehow distant as if they were another man's problems now.

Because I died once. Maybe that's why, eh?

He snickered as he washed the rice slowly, carefully. To his knowledge, there wasn't an extra step in cooking the spirit rice. So he dipped two fingers into the water, checked the amount, and started the fire before stepping back to the second pot. This time, he focused on the skill. Thought about it. Willed it awake and running, prayed it to be effective.

A cold sensation poured out from his heart, through the arms, into the pot. He couldn't see anything with his eyes but felt the skill slowly influence the spirit rice. For a second he thought he'd seen a glamorous glow under the water, but it'd gone away after a blink.

Now, the extra steps. There's no harm in being a touch more careful.

On the side was his chopping board, with carrots and other ingredients waiting for his gentle touch. He picked an onion, peeled it and cut it in half, diced it beautifully before snatching a carrot from the wooden container. He made short work of it, cutting it the pieces as small as possible. The garlic didn't stand a chance under his severe gaze as he minced it into tiny little dots that spread a strong smell about the place.

Lei pulled out a wok and started the fire on his third stove. The wood crunched and crackled, tongues of flame cuddling the cookware from all around. He slipped a spoonful of lard in and swirled it round and round before cracking three eggs inside. Two sticks, clenched tight in the palm of his hand, worked them until they were cooked and split into tiny parts.

Once that was done, he scooped the scrambled eggs into a plate and set it aside for it to cool down. The wok was still busy heating over the wood, and Lei didn't want to waste another second as he added the onions, carrots, some peas, and garlic, and cooked them until they were as soft as a baby's fontanelle.

Well, that's a little too much, but yeah.

He set the wok over on the table for a little while and checked the rice pots. Having tasted that they were done, he took both of the pots away from the stoves and opened the lids to let them cool down. A refrigerator would've been preferable, but until he became a cultivator who could freeze the lands and the crops with a wave of his hand, he had to settle with the good old wind that breezed inside through the wooden shutters.

Seconds crawled past as they waited. Fatty Lou was on his feet now, pacing around the one-room house, sticking his finger through the cracks along the walls, clicking his tongue for perhaps the thousandth time that how damned of a place this house really was.

Lei listened to him with a patient smile. The man was right, but if this skill would meet half his expectations, then it wouldn't be long before he said bye-bye to this place. Maybe a house by Master Li's bakery, he was thinking. That street was as clear as clear got in this city, and this way, they wouldn't have to set times or speak before sundown each day about where they would meet at nights with Fatty Lou as they would be living side by side.

He let out a sigh, then checked the pots. The rice was cold and ready. Back on the wok, he scooched the veggies over to the right side of the wok, added another spoonful of lard to the other side, and turned up the heat once again. He tried to use [Essence Enhanchement] on the ingredients cooking in the wok but didn't feel that cold sensation.

It works only on the spiritual ingredients, that's for sure.

This was his favorite part. He took the ladle in hand, and slapped half of the spirit rice over on the melted lard, the other half saved for later experiment, both enhanced by the system-flavored skill. Then came the soy sauce. Once he heard the sizzling of the rice grains, he jabbed and slammed the ladle inside the wok, the other hand tight on the wok's handle. He shook and twisted the mixture, making sure there were no strangers left inside. Everything, from carrots to beans, and rice grains to onions, got to meet each other, and it seemed they were having a great time over on the roaring fire.

Oh, how I missed stir-frying some rice!

There was a stupid smile hanging wide on his lips. This was life. Simple, uncomplicated. It was meant to be lived like this, to Lei's thinking. Even in a ruined house, surrounded by all that wreckage and sorrow, cooking in a wok somehow managed to bring him the deepest of joys.

This was his home in a different world. And it was meant to be shared. He could already feel those hungry and curious gazes peeking from the tiny holes riddling the walls. Little faces, he saw, gulping happily, knowing they'd get a piece from what was cooking in the wok.

Lei shook his head as he focused on the wok again. Cooking for a crowd, now he felt like a performer, and he had to be sure he was showing them his best tricks.

He removed the wok from the fire, set it aside, and added the scrambled eggs, showed the sesame oil the way to its home, and sprinkled some green onions, a touch of salt and pepper.

"It's done," he said after stirring the mix for good measure. The flavors dominated the tiny room, an ethereal fog that claimed the space, with Lei as its sole master.

He checked it.

[Spirited Fried Rice: Mortal-grade, Medium Quality]

That looked to be some quality dish, for sure. It even sparkled, but Lei thought it might have to do with the starlight bouncing off of the walls. Anyway, after some honest sweat, things were ready to be experienced, and experimented on, for that matter.

"Three plates?" Fatty Lou said as he pointed a finger at the table. "What for?"

"We'll start with this one," Lei said as he passed two sticks to Fatty Lou, eyes down at the normal spirit rice. Once his brother-in-arms took a seat next to him, Lei spoke slowly, and warmly, in the manner of a school teacher addressing a new exchange student. "This one is the normal spirit rice, a simple dish that lacks any seasoning. Take your notes, for we'll be comparing these dishes after tasting each of them."

They both took their first bites. Lei's face darkened as he chewed on the grains for a while, greatly disappointed by the lack of spirituality in the dish. It didn't spark an enlightenment, or fill his so-called meridians with energy, nor did Lei feel that after tasting it he could defy the heavens. But it left an aftertaste once he gulped it down, and it was rather interesting. Felt like he took a whiff from a menthol cigarette.

Fatty Lou gave him a look that said 'Told you it's nothing special.' Lei shrugged and dragged the plate filled with the enhanced spirit rice. Before eating, he checked the dish using the Yellow Maiden's Eyes.

[Spirit Rice: Mortal-grade, Low Quality]

The quality is still low. But why? I've used the same rice with the Spirited Fried Rice, haven't I?

Could it be that his extra touches had done something to change the overall quality of the dish? But then again, he didn't know how the system measured the quality of… well, anything.

Guess we'll just have to take our chances.

They shared a silent look with Fatty Lou before Lei nodded, and tasted the enhanced spirit-rice. The first bite brought that same bland taste, followed by the menthol flavor that eased down the throat. It didn't end there, however, as that airy feeling in his throat thickened, slowly making its way down his stomach.

Once there, it dissolved into multiple threads that slithered about his lower waist, down his legs, and up his arms. It was about to sprawl to his head when that cool sensation suddenly died down.

"What the… This is Qi!" Fatty Lou smacked his lips loudly, raising two fingers to his mouth as if to check if the rice had been real. Then his head snapped back at Lei, eyes narrowed down in suspicion. "What the hell did you do to that rice? I was about to complete a minor-circle… A fucking minor-circle, but how?"

Lei shook his head. He'd been a second away from completing a minor circle himself, but he wasn't impressed. "A minor-circle… That's rather weak, don't you think? You have to be able to complete nine minor circles to be considered a first-step Body Tempering Stage cultivator."

Then they stopped and stared down at the spirit-rice. Fatty Lou lunged for a second bite, but Lei whisked his arm away with a back-handed slap and scowled at him. "It's not going anywhere, brother. We have one more dish to try."

And there it stood, the main course of the day, a most remarkable dish worthy of the richest palates, but now stuck with a certain fatty and the cook who made it. The Spirited Fried Rice seemed spirited in all things considered, smoke swirling invitingly over on the fried grains, tiny green onions flashing as though smiling up at them.

Lei took the first bite. It was glorious. The dish was packed with flavors so strong that it instantly burst alive inside the mouth, floating down from between his teeth, turning into a river of pleasure that sloshed away all that bad taste of its lessers.

Down inside the stomach it went, then stopped, a curious snake peeking about it with glinting eyes. A second passed, silent, Fatty Lou staring, Lei smiling, then they both jerked back at the same time, mouths hanging wide open, eyes sparkling like little kids blessed with dozens of toys.

"I'm alive…" Fatty Lou said as he thumped a fist on the table, the other hand clutching his belly. "I'm fucking alive…"

"Really…" Lei trailed off.

The world started spinning around him. He couldn't feel his arms, but there was no mistaking it; the cold sensation circled inside his body as though a tornado, wreaking havoc wherever it went. Joy, it brought him, and some agony in the mix, Lei reckoned. He groaned and sputtered, and clutched the table tight to balance the chair rocking back and forth. Warm blood trickled down his nose, dripping down his chin.

His head was so light that at every motion it wobbled back and forth. Drunk on spiritual energy, was it? Lei shook himself and slapped his cheeks, but nothing changed.

Then he stared at Fatty Lou. His brother was flushed like a ripe tomato, cheeks puffed out and breath wheezing out through his lips. For a second it seemed his eyes would pop off, but all of a sudden the tension left him, his shoulders slumping down, a blissful daze coating his crimson cheeks.

"We're nothing but a child's dream, a blink away from existing," Fatty Lou said. He had stars in his eyes, shining bright like a cloudless sky. Lei saw them as the reality shattered around him, sinews bulging out on his neck, throbbing, trembling as the energy circled inside his body.

Before he knew it a minor circle was completed, and yet he couldn't catch a breath as another circle started.

"I've no feet!" Fatty Lou said, wobbling up from the chair, his feet swinging left and right as though they were softer than a sponge - boneless, and spineless too, it seemed, as he tumbled over on his back a second after.

"Don't worry." Lei bent over him, huffing through his nose, his body spasming madly inside. It jabbed at him, the Qi, the cold sensation, whatever the hell this thing was, rammed into his innards and stole the breath out of his lungs. Still, he breathed and managed to utter those crucial words to his brother, "I have two of them. You can take one."

Only then Fatty Lou smiled in relief.

Two of them, Lei nodded, one for each.

Then everything went dark.

Chapter 6 - After Effects

Your [Tier] has increased by 1 level.

[Essence Enhancement] has increased by 1 level.

Buzzing in his head. Some annoying fly caught in the web of his ears, maybe? Couldn't be that clean in there. There were no cotton swabs in here, and the other options were too unreliable that Lei feared he might break something crucial in his head should he try to work anything but a finger up in his ears.

He shook, and spat phlegm on the ground, his feet singing a painful song as he winced his way up to the table, clutched the edges, and pulled himself afoot, breath rasping in his chest.

A look around the room let him understand that it wasn't the world, but his mind that had decided to go on a crazy number of spins. Fatty Lou lay snoring under the table, one hand caught between the hinges of the chair, his index finger seemingly had stopped mid-way reaching for the Spirited Fried Rice.

Deep breaths. Take deep breaths.

What in the eighteen hells, or six paths of reincarnation had happened? Did they somehow overdose on spiritual food? Could it be that this was the legendary state that fell many a famous cultivator, Qi Deviation the devil itself?

No. Deviation would've killed us. This was different.

The most sensible explanation was that their body couldn't take all that Qi. Then again, Lei had never thought a simple dish would carry Qi so intense that'd leave them breathless. Everything, from the tips of his fingers to the nape of his neck, hurt like a bastard.

Oh?

But his feet were light as feathers. A step took him round the table, and another out from the door where he breathed the fresh air, bathing under the blazing lights of the morning sun.

Sun? Did we sleep through the night?

That explained the bad taste in his mouth, and his throat, too, parched like a cracked patch of earth that'd been roasted under the blazing sun. What about his face, then?

Lei sprung back into his house and raised a pot near his face to check if there was anything wrong with him. A stained, exhausted face glared back from the pot's darkened surface. But other than the trails of blood dried under his nose, there didn't seem to be anything broken at all.

He sighed out a long breath. That was a relief.

Then he froze. The wok, the pots, and the plates… everything looked as though somebody had licked them clean. Not even a grain of rice was left on them.

You brats! You're going to kill yourselves!

He shot Fatty Lou one last look and decided not to wake him up. He looked too peaceful in this rather twisted state, so Lei pulled that arm from the chair and put it over on the floor. He didn't have in him to carry him to the bed.

He had other worries. Yes, that was the reason.

Outside, the sight of ruined houses and deserted backyards, bushes, and weeds slowly consuming the once lively streets greeted him. He shaded his eyes with one hand and decided to check the system as he started.

Name: Liang Lei

Age: 20

Class: Chef

Tier: Novice 3

Skills: Eyes of the Yellow Maiden.

Cooking Skills: [Essence Enhancement - Novice 2]

His right eye twitched when he saw the system's generous evaluation of him as a Novice 3 chef. Other than that, though, the new skill had gained a level too, but Lei still didn't have any idea about what these upgrades meant.

The skill must've become more effective, but how should he measure this improvement was beyond him. He didn't have dozens of spiritual ingredients to do endless experiments, nor did he really have a solid way of getting those. Fatty Lou's uncle in that brothel had said that he could only help them for this once. So that door had been closed for good.

There were other ways, different ways, but Lei wasn't sure if it was worth risking his life just to work his way through a system he didn't know why he got in the first place. Some twisted joke, or a prophecy, perhaps?

But then, a prophecy about a chef didn't sound too realistic.

He could see where things could go from here. The [Essence Enhancement] skill alone had the potential to turn his dishes into pseudo-medicinal pills, and he was sure he'd get more from the system as he kept leveling up.

Does it matter why I got this thing? Can't I just use it?

That sounded good, but the trouble was, that it would mean that he had to be more than a mere stall owner who just wanted to spread a different culinary culture in this ancient world.

There was always the risk of being collateral damage to some cultivator's nuke, though. The choice doesn't always belong to you. Not when some bastards can decide anytime that a mortal city will be a good place to sort their differences.

That was what killed the previous owner of this body. A pack of stray cultivators. They didn't even directly assault the city but razed it to the ground as they passed by it. So in that sense, staying away from cultivators or anything spiritual was just a matter of perspective. If you're a delusional fool thinking that you could find a 'silent' place by some mountain, then by all means you're free to ignore the reality of the world.

It'd be hardly a surprise if the mountain I'd picked turned out to be some primal fucking turtle hiding from its arch enemies.

Lei sighed. It was probably foolish of him to think all of these things while still suffering from the side effects of that Qi overdose. His whole side was screaming at him, and his feet were sore and itching.

Where are these kids?

And why were these ruined houses looked all the same? Those children were few in number, and never stayed in one spot, always changing houses to be safe from the thugs that frequented this place at night. But it also worked the same way against Lei, and he wasn't in the mood to check every single stone to see if they'd been dead or not.

Well, we're not dead. And there was hardly anything left from those dishes. Don't think it'd be enough to kill them.

Lei sighed. What a start to the day.

...

He found them all curled up and out cold in some building that had its door jacked between two walls, wooden planks groaning lazily in the occasional wind that drifted down from the far mountains. That seldom breeze was the only thing that made the day bearable. Well, that and the kids were still breathing.

Good, they're not dead.

As he stooped under the beams and worked his way to the other side where about a dozen children lay sleeping on the cold floor, Lei sighed once again. Then something furry caught his eye, hidden behind a girl's arm, its two pointy ears jerking up at the sound of Lei's steps.

"You've even let the cat eat that?" Lei didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he stared at this sight. "I've spoiled you too much!"

Thankfully, Old Ji wasn't here, or else Lei would have to listen to his blabbing about how these kids didn't know what was best for them, or how they would turn into thieves and thugs if he kept pampering them.

Some were already thieves, but Lei tried to put a positive spin on it. They were kids, after all, and kids didn't know how to act in certain situations. Their brains had this basic logic that more often than not got them into trouble.

But not you. You should've known better, you little devil!

Lei leaned over to a boy who had a blissful smile on his face. His friends called him Snake, a name that suggested a sneaky, and vicious thug that roamed the lands, but in truth, he was just a slippery little devil that prided in being not caught after all the things he'd snatched from the stalls.

He had a round face, plump cheeks with dimples on them, and short, spiky dark hair. Lei reckoned he was twelve, or thirteen at most, making him the oldest of these bunch, and he knew how to look after them.

"Sneaky Snake, wake up," Lei poked him with his sandal, but the kid groaned and turned his side, pushing Lei's foot with his hand. That was rude and unacceptable, so Lei raised his voice, "Wake up, you brats!"

That got him some reactions as a couple of heads turned in his direction. A strange silence settled on the cramped space, broken by widening eyes and gasps as the children all stiffened at the sight of Lei.

"It's Lei Lei," said one of them, a girl with long, brown hair who had the kindest eyes in the world, petting the black cat that purred happily in her arms. "Looks like he's awake!"

Lei shook his head at her. "Little Mei, just call me Lei. You don't have to say my name twice."

"It's more fun this way." Little Mei cocked her head to the side, gazing curiously at him. There were enough rice grains stuck on her cheek to suggest that she'd had her fair share from that fried rice, and she giggled as the damned cat licked them off of her face one by one.

"We were supposed to call him the Heavenly Cook!" a voice protested as another child raised a finger to Little Mei's face. This brat was a head taller than Little Mei and had black eyes that glinted under the sunlight.

"Heavenly Cook?" Lei was amused and patted Little Chao on the shoulder. He then knelt beside him, and asked, "Who told you that?"

All the eyes turned to the same spot, where the only child still lay dreaming.

"Of course," Lei mumbled as he leaned closer to Snake, poked him once, twice, and when that wasn't enough, he stretched the boy's eyelids open and snapped his fingers at him. "Wake up, little snake!"

"Big Brother Lei!" Snake's eyes jerked wide open, staring round at him. "What are you doing here?"

"That's my line, you brat," Lei said, scowling. "Didn't we have this talk the other week? And yet you're still stealing, even from your Big Brother here!"

"I didn't steal anything!" Snake waved his hand angrily. "Y-You were sleeping, and I thought letting the food go cold would be a waste, so we took it."

"Sleeping?" That was one way to put it, but Lei didn't bite it. "Didn't you all watch me cook those dishes? I saw you peeking from the holes, don't lie to me!"

Little Snake looked hurt, but he still dared to click his tongue at Lei. "Nobody's lying, Big Brother. We watched you cook that dish, and then you dozed off with that fatty."

"What about you?" Lei asked, rather curious about the effects of those spiritual dishes on these children. They didn't look different, perhaps a little more energetic than always, but that could've been the result of a full belly. "Are you feeling different? Any pain in your stomach, or anywhere else?"

All the children shook their heads at the question, with Snake inching closer to Lei and giving him a reassuring pat on the back, "Big Brother, I've always thought you're a simple cook, but turns out you're a real genius! Your rice even fixed Stone's stomach! He said it didn't hurt anymore."

Little Chao, the so-called Stone, stepped forward and bowed as though a disciple before a Master to Lei. His head nearly touched the ground before he stepped back, respect shining deep in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Lei asked. That dish near broke him and Fatty Lou. It was a little hard to believe the only effect it had on these children was a good night's sleep. There had to be something, anything.

When the crowd of shuffling heads gave him strange looks, Lei decided it would be best to rely on the system's magic. Why bother trying to get answers from these little devils? There was no trusting them, anyway.

He focused on Snake, using the Yellow Maiden's Eyes on him.

[Song Junjie: Mortal, 1st step of the Body Tempering Stage]

"Wait, what?"