"Achoo!" Yun Che suddenly sneezed.
"Ara… do you have a fever?" Retsu tilted her head, her voice gentle as she casually popped a meatball into her mouth. Thanks to her special veil, the food phased through effortlessly—one of many quirks Yun Che had come to admire.
"No, no… Someone must be talking about me." Yun Che narrowed his eyes and glanced toward the horizon. "I'm sensing… an odd fluctuation coming from that direction."
"Ara, is that so?" Retsu followed his gaze, curious but unbothered.
Just then, the booming voice of the announcer echoed across the arena.
"Commencing Fourth Round! Which of these four contenders will advance to the finals?!"
The crowd roared, their numbers swelling even more than in the third round. The tension and excitement were thick in the air.
"Well," Yun Che cracked his knuckles with a confident smirk, "time for me to ace another round."
Retsu leaned forward with an eager gleam in her eyes. "What dish are you planning this time?"
Yun Che grinned. "You'll see."
"Mouu!" Retsu pouted cutely, puffing her cheeks. "You're so mean, Yuu-kun… You already teased me with three recipes today, and I still haven't tried them at home!"
"Count another one in, then." Yun Che gave Retsu a playful pat on the head before heading toward the stage.
From the sidelines, Lady Qian Qian watched him approach. Yun Che shot her a cheeky grin—only to receive a sharp glare in return.
"Oh, come on…" he sighed. "All I wanted was that fish anyway."
Just then, the announcer's voice rang out across the stadium:
"A special judge has agreed to oversee the Fourth Round of the competition between our four remaining chefs!"
Murmurs stirred among the crowd as a regal figure entered the arena—an older gentleman with a stern countenance, piercing blue eyes, and long swept-back blonde hair. Disciples in matching robes escorted him with utmost reverence as he took his place at the judges' table.
Gasps echoed from the Xiao Sect and Burning Heaven Clan representatives.
"Elder Luó Rǎn of the Heavenly Sacred Pavilion…"
"Damn it… Why him of all people?" Burning Heaven Clan, Liu Long whispered under his breath.
"Even the Pavilion's top chefs can't make that man smile," Xiao Sect, Bai Jian muttered.
Yun Che raised an eyebrow in genuine interest. So this is the Pavilion's top culinary enforcer... He could feel it—Elder Luó Rǎn's cultivation wasn't just for show. A Fifth Level Sky Profound Realm, cloaked in restrained dignity. That, combined with his culinary legacy, made him a force to be reckoned with.
Lady Qian Qian, meanwhile, stood at Peak Sky Profound Realm—her mere presence was enough to silence entire rooms.
In contrast, the other two semi-finalists—one from the Xiao Sect and the other from the Burning Heaven Clan—held modest cultivations at the First Level Sky Profound Realm. Powerful by common standards, but clearly outclassed.
Yun Che rolled his shoulders, his smirk returning. "Well now… things just got interesting."
Elder Luo Rǎn rose from his seat with deliberate calm, his gaze sweeping across the four finalists like a cold blade.
"From the moment you step into the kitchen," his voice rang with clarity and weight, "you bear a singular responsibility—to create food worth remembering."
The arena fell silent.
"This duty transcends your experience, your sect, your status—whether you are the prized chef of a prestigious clan…" His eyes moved to the Xiao Sect's representative.
"…a former victor of the previous competition…" His gaze shifted to the Burning Heaven Clan chef.
"…a noble lady trained to perfection…" His sharp blue eyes met Lady Qian Qian's.
"…or an unknown with too much confidence." Finally, they landed on Yun Che.
Yun Che smiled faintly, unfazed.
Luo Rǎn's tone turned colder, more absolute.
"In this kitchen, there is no favoritism. No mercy. You either win—or you fail. Remember that."
He returned to his seat with a dignified sweep of his robes.
"For this round," he continued, voice firm, "you will prepare a dish rooted in tradition and precision: tender, fall-apart chunks of beef, simmered slowly in a rich red wine gravy. A signature meat dish of the Heavenly Sacred Pavilion."
A subtle intake of breath swept through the contestants. The bar had just been raised—high.
"You have two hours," Luo Rǎn added, folding his arms. "No more. Only two shall advance. The other two will be dismissed."
The tension in the eastern stage rose to a peak.
The announcer raised his arm high.
"Semi-finalists! Are you ready?!"
Each of the four chefs gave a firm nod.
"Begin!"
A resounding clang of knives and ladles echoed across the culinary battlefield as fire flared, pans clattered, and the smell of ambition filled the air.
"You won't win this one, brat," Bai Jian sneered from across the kitchen. "I learned this recipe straight from the Pavilion itself."
Yun Che glanced over, unimpressed.
"What's your beef with me, huh? Instead of stirring drama, why don't you stir your pot and mind your own business?" He flashed a roguish grin.
"You—!" Bai Jian choked on his words, fists clenched.
Yun Che turned back to his station, humming a tune.
"Boeuf Bourguignon, huh…?" He cracked his knuckles. "Never cooked it before—world was too messed up for slow-simmered dishes back then. But I read the recipes… and I watched that cooking anime."
With a shrug, he got to work—no tricks, no mystical hacks. Just him, the ingredients, and a recipe he wanted to respect. He began browning the beef in a hot pan, letting each piece caramelize just enough before deglazing the pot with red wine. Slow and steady.
"This dish isn't about flash," he murmured. "It's about patience."
For once, Yun Che wasn't rushing, improvising, or showing off. He let the meat tenderize, soaking in the layers of flavor as the wine reduced and the broth thickened. He had time. He had focus.
And the crowd? They started to lean in. Whispers filled the arena.
"Is he... just following the recipe?"
"Maybe that's the miracle this time—restraint."
Meanwhile, an hour ticked by.
Bai Jian and Liu Long stepped forward, submitting their dishes with confident smirks. Their platings were elegant, their sauces rich in color.
But Elder Luo Rǎn didn't smile. He tasted in silence.
Then came the verdict.
"Chef Liu Long. Chef Bai Jian. You both… fail."
"What?!" Bai Jian shot forward. "How is that possible?! I followed the Pavilion recipe exactly!"
"The meat," Luo Rǎn said flatly, "isn't tender. It's rushed. And yours—" he glanced at Liu Long, "—is burnt. A sign of carelessness. In the Heavenly Sacred Pavilion, that's unforgivable."
Gasps echoed through the arena. The so-called favorites, eliminated.
All eyes now turned to Yun Che, who was calmly finishing the final touches on his dish. The aroma of wine, herbs, and melting beef filled the air.
The air was heavy with tension after the twin failures of Bai Jian and Liu Long. As murmurs stirred among the crowd, a confident clack of heels echoed through the stage.
Lady Qian Qian stepped forward with the elegance of a noble phoenix descending from the skies. Her long silvery robes shimmered under the arena lights, and her gloved hands held a lacquered tray adorned with pristine white porcelain.
She placed her dish on the judges' table with a faint smile—not of warmth, but of absolute certainty.
"Elder Luo Rǎn," she said smoothly, her voice carrying the grace of royalty and the bite of ice, "please enjoy my humble rendition Qian's version of Tender fall apart chunks of beef simmered in a rich red wine gravy."
The name alone stirred reactions.
The presentation was stunning. Perfectly portioned beef, glistening under a velvety red wine reduction, accompanied by pearl onions, button mushrooms, and carrots cut into flawless decorative shapes. A delicate parsley garnish crowned the dish like a royal seal.
Luo Rǎn raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. He sliced a piece of the beef—his knife glided through like it was slicing butter. He brought it to his lips and chewed in silence.
Moments passed. The audience held its breath.
Then he gave a small nod. Not a smile, but approval.
"Tender. Balanced. The wine isn't overpowering, and the beef has depth. The presentation is precise. Acceptable."
Lady Qian Qian tilted her chin higher, satisfied.
"Next time, perhaps aim a little lower on the carrots," he replied coolly, placing down his utensils. "Still… you pass."
Cheers erupted from her supporters, though they were outdone by the thunderous applause waiting for only one more dish to be judged.
"Lady Qian Qian has advanced to the finals!" the announcer shouted, and the crowd roared in a mix of admiration and anticipation.
But all eyes now turned to one man — Yun Che, who calmly stirred his simmering pot, steam rising gently from the rich red wine gravy. His dish wasn't flamboyant like Qian Qian's, but there was something captivating about the simplicity of his focus.
Tension thickened. If Yun Che failed, Lady Qian Qian would win by default, taking the title of Best Chef in the Blue Wind Empire.
But then—chaos.
From the side of the stage, Bai Jian and Liu Long, the two disqualified chefs, surged forward, faces twisted with humiliation and fury.
"You bastard! If we fall, you're falling with us!" Bai Jian snarled.
Before anyone could react, they grabbed a bowl of coarse salt and hurled it into Yun Che's pot, white grains hissing as they hit the bubbling surface.
The arena erupted in gasps and shouts. Even the judges were stunned.
"SABOTAGE!"
"STOP THEM!"
"What are they doing?!"
Even Lady Qian Qian's eyes widened, her jaw tightening. Despite her pride, she never imagined anyone would stoop so low in a culinary tournament.
Security finally dragged the two saboteurs away, both screaming curses at Yun Che. It seems they are trying to humiliate him for humiliating their clan in the tournament. Now, with their disqualification. They blamed Yun Che for it.
The crowd began to boo them viciously, their names now etched in disgrace.
Qingyue and Little Fairy gritted their teeth from the viewing stands, their knuckles white as they watched the scene unfold. The sabotage had been blatant—dishonorable and enraging.
But then they saw it.
Yun Che didn't flinch.
He didn't curse, didn't panic. His expression was calm—eerily calm—like a predator who had already seen this coming. His hands moved with calm precision, the mark of someone who had weathered storms far fiercer than this.
Seeing this, both women slowly relaxed.
On the side, Retsu, Mio, and Nemu remained composed as well—none of them even reaching for their blades. They knew.
He was still going to win.
Yun Che set the ruined pot aside, calmly scooping out the excess salt. Then, without a word, he grabbed a fresh cut of beef from his reserve and began again.
Only this time—he upped the tempo.
Flames danced across his hands. Not just any flames—Phoenix Flames, mystical and controlled, licking at the surface of the meat to accelerate the tenderizing process.
Then, instead of blunt-force cooking, he massaged the beef with honey, a technique both rare and delicate, breaking down fibers while adding sweetness to counterbalance the salt theme he expected the judges' palates were now anticipating.
He moved fluidly—
Beef kissed the hot pan, seared on both sides to seal in the juices. Onions and carrots, chopped and tossed into butter, turned golden brown. Mushrooms, sautéed to perfection, their aroma complementing the beef.
He combined all ingredients into a clean pot, simmering everything low and slow, allowing the flavors to meld naturally.
The smell… it made people forget the sabotage ever happened.
Elder Luo Rǎn's eyes flickered open wider, the first sign of interest he had shown all day.
With fifteen minutes left on the clock, Yun Che plated his creation.
The beef, sliced into perfectly even chunks, glistened in a rich red wine gravy—thick, velvety, and glimmering with infused herbs and softened root vegetables. Everything was meticulously arranged, finished with a single fresh basil leaf and a subtle golden shimmer of soul powder for aroma.
He stepped forward.
"Yun Che's dish is ready for presentation!"
The entire arena fell into silence. He complete his dish in less than an hour.
Elder Luo Rǎn examined it.
Elder Luo Rǎn examined the bottle in Yun Che's hand with sharp, glinting eyes. "Despite the accident… how did you manage to complete this dish to such a degree of excellence?"
Yun Che raised the small bottle with a casual smirk.
"This."
The golden liquid inside shimmered under the sunlight.
"A bottle of… honey?" Luo Rǎn arched a brow.
"Yes," Yun Che said. "I used it during the tenderizing stage—rubbed it directly onto the beef before the stewing. It helped soften the fibers rapidly. I also added a bit near the end to balance the flavor."
The judge tapped his fingers together. "Interesting. Normally, this dish takes hours to prepare properly… yet yours was done in half that time. Most would have failed."
Yun Che nodded. "That's because honey contains protease, an enzyme that breaks down proteins."
"Protease?" one of the chefs muttered nearby, unfamiliar with the term.
"Uh, think of it as… a meat-dissolving helper," Yun Che explained. "It breaks the tough stuff down so it cooks faster and softer. Pineapple has it too—except I didn't have time to prepare a whole one."
"Pineapple?" Luo Rǎn blinked.
Yun Che sighed inwardly. "Yeah… this thing." He pulled out a small fruit from his inventory—spiky and bright yellow.
The old man's eyes lit up. "Ah! The Imperial Feathered Immortal Fruit!"
Yun Che's mouth twitched.
"The heck with this world's naming sense?" he muttered under his breath. "Next, you're going to tell me bananas are called 'Heavenly Golden Crescent Moons.'"
Despite the sarcastic grumbling in his head, Yun Che kept a straight face outwardly.
Elder Luo Rǎn gave a slow nod of appreciation. "To adapt so quickly… using unorthodox but effective techniques… you truly are an intriguing chef, Yun Che."
Meanwhile, Lady Qian Qian watched with unreadable eyes. Her arms were folded, but her expression said it all:
This final match… just got interesting.
As the judges lifted their utensils, the entire arena held its breath.
Elder Luo Rǎn took a single forkful of the beef bourguignon—the rich red wine sauce glistening under the sunlight, the tender meat nearly falling apart before his utensil even touched it. The aroma alone made several spectators gulp unconsciously.
The moment the morsel entered his mouth, time seemed to stop.
A sudden silence descended, as if the world itself paused to witness what would happen next.
Then it hit him.
The first taste—deep, savory, and robust. The red wine reduction had mellowed to perfection, melding seamlessly with the beef's umami and the underlying sweetness from the honey. Layers of flavor unfolded in perfect sequence: earthy mushrooms, sweet onions, the gentle tang of the wine, and that faint sweetness that never overpowered, only enhanced.
The meat practically melted on his tongue.
And in that instant…
The stone-faced elder's eyes widened.
A faint tremble ran through his fingers.
Then, it happened.
His lips curved—slowly but surely—into a smile.
Gasps echoed across the arena. Even Lady Qian Qian blinked in disbelief. The other judges froze.
"H-He's smiling?"
The old man let out a deep, satisfied exhale, placing his fork down with reverence—as if afraid a second bite might somehow tarnish the perfection he just experienced.
"…I see it now," he murmured.
"This dish…" he continued, voice rich with wonder, "…reminds me of a long-forgotten memory. When I was still a young disciple, lost and hungry in the snowfields of the north, a kind old woman took me in and fed me stew. It was crude… but warm. Made with heart."
He looked up at Yun Che, his stern, blue eyes softer than anyone had ever seen.
"You have captured that feeling," he said, voice husky with emotion. "Refined it. Honed it. But the heart—the soul of the dish—remains untouched. Untamed."
Then came words no one thought they'd ever hear.
"This is the best dish I've had in thirty years."
The audience exploded.
The disciples of the Heavenly Sacred Pavilion stood up in shock.
One of them burst out, "H-He made Elder Luo Rǎn smile! That's impossible!"
But no—it was real.
Luo Rǎn looked at Yun Che and gave a respectful nod.
It was the first smile he had shown in five tournaments.
"...Excellent."
The crowd exploded. Even Lady Qian Qian's mouth parted slightly in shock.
"However…." Luo Ran smiled at him. "It is a shame I don't know words that give a praise beyond what I gave you just now."
"Glad you enjoyed it." Yun Che grins.
"YUN CHE ADVANCES TO THE FINAL!" the announcer roared.
The arena trembled with applause, cheers, and disbelief.
"The best cook of the Blue Wind Empire will be fought between Lady Qian Qian and the new star, Yun Che!"
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, some shouting Yun Che's name, others stunned into silence by the fact that someone had actually made Elder Luo Rǎn smile.
Meanwhile, Luo Rǎn's disciples, initially skeptical and stiff, took tentative bites of Yun Che's dish. One by one, their expressions shifted—eyes widening, mouths parting slightly in awe. Some looked at their spoons as if they had never seen food before.
"…This… This flavor…"
"Unbelievable…"
"Lady Qian Qian's was refined… but this feels like something beyond culinary skill… it's soul-cooked."
Back at the sidelines, Yun Che returned to Retsu, Nemu, and Mio, setting down three fresh bowls of his now-famous beef bourguignon.
"Here," he said with a grin, "made a few more servings just for you girls."
The moment the dish touched their lips, it was like time stopped.
Retsu's eyes half-lidded, a faint pink rising to her cheeks as she sighed, "It's like I'm being hugged by warmth… every bite tastes like home."
Nemu, usually deadpan, let out a tiny gasp, her shoulders relaxing as she savored it. Mio, on the other hand, had already scarfed down half her serving with unladylike speed before realizing she was even chewing.
"So good… So freaking good… How does this even exist!?"
Kon and Mei ate their own portion, and their blissful face says it all.
Yun Che smiled—but instead of indulging in his victory meal, he took a seat and began eating the dish that had been sabotaged earlier. The salty, ruined one.
Retsu frowned immediately.
"Yuu-kun… isn't that the dish those two tried to ruin?"
"Yep." He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth, chewed, then nodded to himself. "Bit salty, but still edible. I'm not letting food go to waste."
Mio huffed, crossing her arms. "I knew I should've thrown them into the sea instead."
Retsu, looking torn between admiration and worry, suddenly picked up a spoon and joined him. "Then I'll eat with you."
"You don't have to—"
"But you're the one who made it." She smiled warmly. "Bad or not, it's still your cooking. That means it's worth eating."
Yun Che blinked… then softened.
"Thank you, sweetie."
"Ufuuuu~" She tried a spoonful, and her face already twisted.
"R-Ret-chan!" Mio pouted. "Not fair! If you're going to be all sweet like that, then I'm tasting it too!"
She grabbed a spoonful from Yun Che's bowl… and immediately gagged.
"Ugh! It's way too salty!!" Her face scrunched up.
"But, Mio-neesama's cooking once made everyone sick," Nemu chimed, her voice flat as always while she calmly took another bite of Yun Che's beef bourguignon.
"Hey! I heard that!!" Mio snapped, cheeks puffed in indignation. "Maybe I should tie you up again!"
"Kyaa! I am sorry…" Nemu raised her spoon defensively, clearly not all that sorry, a playful twinkle in her eyes.
Yun Che laughed, stretching out against the bench, arms folded behind his head. The sun warmed his face while the sound of laughter filled the air. The tournament wasn't over yet, but in this moment—this pocket of peace, warmth, and togetherness—it felt like he had already won.
"I'm guessing," Retsu leaned over, peering into his now-empty serving pot, "you made more than just these?"
"I sent one to Jasmine already," Yun Che replied, "Still got another three servings left."
"Ufuu~ Then I'll deliver them," she said sweetly, brushing off her lap and standing up. "I wanted to talk to Sister Yuechan anyway."
Yun Che smiled, transferring the three neatly plated dishes into Retsu's spatial inventory. With a graceful flash of movement, she disappeared—shunpo-stepping away.
On a quiet, flower-filled hill outside the city, Chu Yuechan, Chu Yueli, and Xia Qingyue sat on a mat beneath a large tree. They had just finished their earlier servings of Yun Che's food—and yet none of them looked even remotely full.
"That was…" Chu Yueli murmured, licking her lips with uncharacteristic longing, "unexpectedly good. I… can't believe I ate that fast."
"Not just good," Little Fairy said calmly, brushing a strand of Platinum peach hair from her face. "It was satisfying… in a strange way."
"I shouldn't be hungry after eating that much," Xia Qingyue added, glancing down at her empty bowl, "but somehow, I'm not full either…"
At that moment, Retsu appeared, a ripple of wind marking her sudden arrival.
"Ufuu~ You girls finished everything, huh?" she said cheerfully, kneeling down with three fresh servings.
"It was indeed good, sister Retsu." Little Fairy admitted with a rare softness. "I can't deny it."
"I hope you're ready for more," Retsu smiled, presenting the dishes one by one. "He made these just for you."
"How can we not feel full despite eating so much?" Little Fairy blinked, genuinely curious.
Retsu sat down beside them, opening a napkin and beginning to tidy the used dishes. "His cooking this time focused on restoring Profound Energy. So while your body gets nourished, the energy spent in your meridians is replenished. Until your profound veins are completely saturated… you'll still feel just enough hunger to keep eating."
"Of course," Xia Qingyue said, her eyes flashing with understanding. "That's why it feels so different…"
As Retsu handed them each their bowls, Qingyue quietly began helping her clean up. Retsu glanced over and gave her a gentle smile of appreciation.
"Thank you, Qingyue-san."
"It's the least I can do," she replied softly, her voice tinged with warmth. "After all, you're always looking after him."
With the aroma of rich, simmering beef once again filling the air, the four women sat quietly—sharing a rare, tranquil moment away from politics, war, and battles.
Just food. Just peace.
"…You two won't mind if we're… friends?" Retsu asked gently, her violet eyes soft with sincerity as she glanced between Chu Yueli and Xia Qingyue. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow around them, turning the moment tender.
Beneath her veil, Little Fairy smiled faintly—an expression that rarely surfaced. She could see it clearly: Retsu wasn't trying to win favor. She was simply kind. Open.
"Friends?" Qingyue repeated, eyes widening slightly. The word felt foreign—distant. Her entire life had been discipline, expectation, isolation… friendship had been a luxury she never allowed herself.
Chu Yueli was silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You mean… like allies?"
Retsu nodded with a smile. "More than allies. I'm already friends with Sister Yuechan," she said, glancing fondly at the elder Chu sister. "So I wanted to extend that bond to you two… on behalf of Mio and my little sister, Nemu."
"Friends with the… Butterfly Monarch?" Chu Yueli's voice faltered. She wasn't easily shaken, but this—this was surprising. That title carried weight. Not just strength, but influence. With her own ties to Nezuko, Xue Ling, and even Dracule Mihawk, she was now connected to some of the most formidable individuals across realms. Including Yun Che and his monstrous party.
And now… Retsu herself was offering her hand.
"You want to be friends with… me?" Qingyue asked quietly, her gaze lowering, unsure. Her tone carried more than disbelief—there was hesitation. A quiet yearning hidden behind cool pride.
Retsu reached out, not forcefully, but with warmth. "Yes. I've seen how much you care. About Yun Che. About your brother. Even if you don't say much… it's in your actions. You're strong, but you don't have to carry everything alone."
"You knew?" Qingyue eyes flicker and Retsu nodded. Indicating she knew what Qingyue is talking about.
Qingyue's lips trembled slightly, and she looked away, blinking. "…I don't know how to be a good friend."
"That's okay," Retsu said softly as she pats her head. "You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be sincere."
A long silence passed… until Chu Yueli suddenly chuckled under her breath.
"If my sister sees something in you… and the Butterfly Monarch close with you… Then I suppose…" Chu Yueli gave a light smirk, "I can try. Besides, I doubt I could afford to offend any of you. The Asgard couldn't offend anyone of you."
Qingyue glanced at Retsu again—this time, meeting her eyes.
"Yes. If we're to be close in the future," Retsu said gently, "then it's best we establish friendship now. Wouldn't want later flock members like us clashing later on, would we?"
Her voice carried the calm assurance of someone who had seen both battle and betrayal—but also the joy of rare, true companionship.
"We may have started off on the wrong note… but I value my sisters. And I keep my friends close." Her eyes glimmered with something deeper. "We choose our friends carefully, Qingyue-san. But should anyone break that trust…" Her voice dipped, calm but ice-cold. "Trust me—it won't end well for them."
Qingyue was silent, pensive.
Her thoughts churned beneath her serene expression. Flock members, Retsu had said—clearly meaning Yun Che's circle of fiancées and trusted powerful members. A strange term, but not without warmth.
He was the glue that bound all of them together.
She thought back to that quiet night… when she had grumbled—half in jest, half in envy—to Yun Che. How the others were growing stronger through their bonds with him, while she remained tethered to her old path. The path the Prime Timeline Yun Che had told her. Xia Qingyue had cultivated discipline, solitude, and strength—but never friendship.
Even Cang Yue, who trained with him in just three months surpassed what she achieved in two years.
And now? Perhaps this was what she needed. Not just power—but support. Sisterhood.
If I want to save my mother, she thought grimly, I need more than swordsmanship. I need allies I can trust.
She glanced at Retsu, then Chu Yueli—who remained quiet but clearly watchful. She had already secured two. She needed more. A third, a fourth… and finally, a fifth.
A circle. A sisterhood. Something the Prime Timeline version of her doesn't have.
Qingyue slowly bowed her head, her voice soft but resolute.
"…Please take good care of me."
Retsu's expression bloomed with quiet pride. She gently reached out and placed a hand on Qingyue's shoulder.
"Of course. From now on, we're sisters. Just like me and sister Yuechan."
Chu Yueli smirked, folding her arms. "Looks like this little gathering's going to get interesting…"
"And at last—the Final Match!!" the announcer's voice thundered across the arena as the crowd roared with anticipation.
The stands trembled with excitement. Flags waved, disciples shouted, and even cultivators from noble sects leaned forward in their seats, eager to witness this moment.
"Hey, people are getting excited," Kon muttered from Mei's lap, his button eyes blinking at the chaos around them.
"It is…" Mio nodded, calmly enjoying another bite of her beef bourguignon, savoring the lingering taste. "But of course, they are. Yuu-kun's going to win."
"Well, that's my cue." Yun Che rose from his bench, finishing the last spoonful of his sabotaged—but still edible—dish. He brushed the crumbs from his robe, rolled his shoulders, and leapt effortlessly onto the main stage. The crowd's cheers surged again.
Elder Luo Ran, seated at the judge's table once more, had already volunteered to preside over the final match. He wore a rare smirk—almost unheard of from the usually stern head of the Heavenly Sacred Pavilion.
These two… Luo Ran thought to himself, folding his arms. Let's see if your brilliances can outshine consistency.
At the opposite side of the stage, she stepped forward—elegant, poised, and radiant. A flowing crimson dress and a chef's sash. Her long dark purple hair tied in a graceful braid, her eyes sharp with focus.
Lady Qian Qian.
A chef with fame across the Blue Wind Empire's elite sects. Known for her perfection, her beauty, her precise knife skills, and her refusal to ever settle for second best.
They faced each other at the center of the stage.
"Representing the new generation with his prodigious skills, Champion of the Blue Wind Ranking Tournament—Yun Che!" the announcer shouted.
A wave of cheers erupted like thunder.
"And representing grace, tradition, and masterful culinary artistry—Lady Qian Qian! The only woman to ever advance to the finals of the Imperial Culinary Arts Festival!"
A second wave of cheers, just as wild, filled the air. Some even louder.
Qian Qian narrowed her eyes toward Yun Che, lifting her chin.
"Don't think your tricks will work again, Yun Che. I won't go easy on you," she said coolly.
Yun Che smiled, casual and calm. "Oh, I hope not. Easy fights are boring."
The tension crackled between them—not anger, but competition. Mutual respect, veiled under pride and provocation.
Luo Ran stood, his piercing gaze scanning both competitors. "The final test… will be your signature dish. A dish of your own creation. One that defines you. Your soul. Your path."
"Which one of them will win the glorious Blue Fin Elephant Fish—a prize only awarded to the greatest chef in the empire?!" the announcer roared.
A wave of cheers swept across the arena.
Yun Che casually grinned, glancing at Lady Qian Qian. He shot her a relaxed two-finger salute, all confidence and charm.
She glared, lips tightening, but said nothing. Her focus never wavered.
Above the arena, perched on the private viewing terrace, Retsu sat with Chu Yueli, Little Fairy, and Xia Qingyue. All eyes fixed on the stage below.
"He only came to browse ingredients for a supply run," Retsu muttered, sipping from a warm drink, "and now he's about to win a whole fish bigger than he is."
"I wonder if she remembers him," Little Fairy said softly, watching the determined Lady Qian Qian with a tilt of her head.
Qingyue eyes the match quietly. Wondering who this Lady Qian Qian is. Determined enough to challenge him.
Elder Luo Ran rose from his seat, commanding the arena with a single glance. "This will be an open cooking finale. Each finalist will craft the dish that defines them. Their masterpiece. No limitations. No recipes. The best dish wins."
Both chefs nodded silently.
Behind Yun Che was an expansive supply table stocked with everything imaginable: spices from the Golden Desert, rare spirit herbs from Misty Forest, fish so fresh they were still twitching, marbled meats, and fragrant vegetables glowing with trace amounts of profound energy.
Yun Che cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.
"The final round…" the announcer drew in a breath, milking the tension, "…starts now!!"
A great gong thundered across the arena.
Lady Qian Qian moved like a storm. Graceful, poised—yet blindingly fast. She glided across her station, selecting ingredients in seconds. Her hands danced with knives, chopping, slicing, cleaning—flawlessly.
Water flowed around her movements, sharp and elegant. For the first time in the competition, she was holding nothing back.
Gasps erupted from the crowd as they realized—they had never seen her real strength until now.
"She was hiding that much skill?" someone shouted.
Yun Che's eyes narrowed—but his grin widened.
Yun Che's eyes narrowed as a brief flicker of vermillion light flared behind Lady Qian Qian's back. It was subtle—barely noticeable to the untrained eye—but to someone who possessed the Phoenix bloodline, it was unmistakable.
"Phoenix Flames?" he muttered under his breath.
He clenched the ladle in his hand slightly tighter, eyes focused. Someone from the Phoenix lineage? But… outside the sect? Could she be connected to the branch line?
Questions burned in his mind, but he shelved them—now wasn't the time. The dish came first.
A chorus of younger voices chimed from the crowd.
"Big sis! Do your best!!"
Qian Qian's siblings. Loyal. Proud. She had people who believed in her. Yun Che gave them a side glance before exhaling with a soft smile.
"She's not bad. But…" he cracked his knuckles and rolled up his sleeves, "I've cooked for Retsu, Mio, Nemu, and Little Yue. Gluttons. Every. One. I've been sharpening my skills and cooking speed since the moment I got force-fed a hundred compliments and zero leftovers."
He moved.
Like a flash of lightning, he zipped across the kitchen. His speed wasn't just fast—it was efficient. Controlled. Calculated.
For the final round, he prepared one of the most basic and simple meals.
As the final round continued, the arena grew silent—not out of boredom, but awe.
Lady Qian Qian moved like a phantom waltzing through a storm. Her every motion flowed with unshakable grace and lethal precision. Knives chopped in perfect rhythm, ingredients danced through the air, and steam rose in elegant coils as if obeying her will.
She selected Twilight Jade Carp, an extremely rare spiritual fish known for its naturally sweet flesh and flowing energy. She paired it with Moonlight Lotus Roots, Glacial Plum Wine, and a few pinches of Silver Star Salt, harvested only during the lunar solstice.
Her station shimmered with a radiant sheen as ice and wind profound energy infused her cooking. The audience could see the condensation freeze in midair—she was infusing her dish with controlled cold essence, locking in flavor and spiritual potency with precise elemental balance.
It was like watching a goddess weave a miracle.
She plated the dish onto a translucent white porcelain dish shaped like a blooming lotus. With a final graceful flourish of her fan, a breeze lifted from her palm, cooling the steam into a delicate mist.
She stepped forward and presented the result with poise and pride.
"Glacial Moon Carp in Frost Lotus Essence"
The dish radiated a pale blue glow. Thin slices of the spiritual carp were arranged like moon petals, resting gently atop a shimmering pond of lotus-infused broth. The aroma was soft and ethereal—cool yet warming to the soul. Just the scent alone calmed the nerves and soothed the heart.
Elder Luo Ran's eyes widened.
He took a bite.
Silence.
And then…
"This…" his voice was low and deliberate, "...is the purest expression of ice elemental culinary mastery I've ever encountered. This dish doesn't simply nourish the body—it restores the soul."
The other judges followed suit, and their expressions melted into dumbfounded admiration.
"She's… divine," one whispered.
"Lady Qian Qian has achieved a miracle!" shouted the announcer. "A legendary dish that has pushed the limits of cold-element cuisine! Could this be the winning move?!"
Even as her main dish simmered to perfection, Qian Qian didn't pause—not even for a breath. With the precision of a seasoned master, she transitioned gracefully to a second set of ingredients—this time for a dessert.
The crowd gasped.
"She's… she's making a dessert too?!"
But those with keener eyes realized it wasn't overkill—it was strategy. A dessert to perfectly balance the cold elegance of her main dish, showcasing not just power, but refinement.
Qian Qian's hands moved like flowing silk as she pulled out Starblossom Nectar, a rare, sweet liquid harvested from the glowing Starblossom trees that only bloomed under the light of a full moon. Then came the Moon Lotus, frozen in glacial dew, and a thin drizzle of silver snow syrup made from crystallized morning frost.
She carefully layered her ingredients into a transparent glass lotus bowl, where each petal of the Moon Lotus Petal Pudding glistened with spiritual light. At the very center, a single glowing pearl of Frosted Starlight Jelly pulsed softly.
"This dessert is called…" she spoke clearly, her voice resonating across the stage, "Lunar Embrace. A cold dessert to follow the Glacier Carp Broth. The perfect ending to a serene, graceful meal."
The judges leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity and awe as they finished savoring Lady Qian Qian's dual masterpiece. The complex harmony of her Glacier Carp Broth followed by the ethereal sweetness of Lunar Embrace left them stunned. A gentle, reverent silence followed—one only earned by true artistry.
Lady Qian Qian stood tall, her expression calm but proud. That was her best. No—her very best. A culmination of years of training, discipline, and natural talent. She turned slightly toward her rival, her voice light but confident.
"Now then… what kind of miracle have you pulled this time, Yun Che?"
Yun Che, still crouched beside his cooking station, gave no immediate reply. He straightened up slowly, lifting a tray with several bowls placed neatly atop it. Steam curled lazily into the air, carrying a warm, comforting aroma. He walked over and, without flair or showmanship, set the bowls before the judges.
His face? Completely deadpan.
"This…" he said dryly, "is Yun Che's Special Rich Ramen."
A beat of silence.
"Ramen?" Elder Luo Ran blinked, clearly taken aback.
"Wheat noodles," Yun Che replied simply, folding his arms. "That's the core."
A ripple of confusion swept through the judges and audience alike.
"That's… it?"
"He's seriously serving noodles?"
"After Qian Qian's masterpiece?!"
Even Lady Qian Qian furrowed her brow. Compared to the elegance of her meticulously plated carp and delicate pudding, noodles sounded almost insulting. Plain. Common. A dish served in roadside inns, not grand arenas.
"This… is a joke, right?" one of the disciples murmured.
But Yun Che stood firm, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. He leaned casually on the table, eyes calm but resolute.
"There are places where people serve wheat noodles in the morning," Luo Ran muttered, eyeing the bowl before him with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "But you… you used seafood to cook it."
The moment those words left his mouth, Qian Qian's eyes narrowed sharply.
"Seafood ramen… in the morning?" she repeated, incredulous. Her tone cut like a knife as she folded her arms. "Are you playing with us, Yun Che?"
Her voice rose just enough to draw attention. The audience stirred, whispers breaking out across the arena. Qian Qian stepped forward, her gaze focused like a blade.
"Wheat noodles are a peasant's meal—something slurped under lantern light in back alleys, not placed in front of judges after four grueling rounds. And now, you're serving it first thing in the morning?" she scoffed. "For elders and sleep-deprived officials? You're not cooking for drunks after a long night, Yun Che."
Her words struck hard. Many in the audience nodded—after all, Qian Qian had just served a divine main course and a perfectly balanced dessert. Her work was flawless.
But Yun Che? He just smiled.
That same calm, relaxed grin.
"Not every dish has to shout to be heard," he said mildly, arms behind his head. "Sometimes, it just has to speak to the right place—your heart."
Qian Qian tensed, but Elder Luo Ran raised a hand, silencing further comment.
He leaned forward and lifted the bowl closer, inhaling gently. His eyes flickered with surprise.
"It's strange…" he murmured. "The broth… it's rich, yet not greasy. It carries depth—but the aroma is light. Calming. Inviting."
He swirled the spoon once through the golden broth and scooped up a mouthful.
"Seafood-based stock, simmered with bone marrow... a trace of flame essence... wheat noodles infused with subtle energy flow…" he listed with a growing note of curiosity. "There's complexity in its simplicity."
Luo Ran gave a subtle nod. The remaining judges, still hesitant, lifted their bowls. Peasant food or not—it was tradition. They had to taste.
The moment the first spoonful passed Luo Ran's lips, time seemed to stop.
He froze mid-motion, eyes wide for a split second, then closed them slowly. A deep breath left his chest like the exhale of a man who'd just returned from a long journey.
The entire arena held its breath.
Tap.
The sound of his spoon gently striking porcelain echoed across the silent seaside arena.
"This…" he whispered, voice trembling, "…isn't peasant food."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes now fully alert, alive.
"The noodles… they enter the mouth so smoothly—elastic yet tender. And the flavor… did you use Dragonlight Fruit to knead the dough?"
"Dragonlight Fruit?" Yun Che blinked. He reached behind the counter and pulled out a round, thick-rinded citrus fruit. "You mean this thing? I call it Pomelo."
Gasps erupted through the stands. A fruit so strong in natural essence that only experts dared use it in cooking—tamed and mixed into humble noodles?
Luo Ran's expression softened as he twirled another bite.
"I can't stop eating it…" he admitted.
The other judges, initially skeptical, were already slurping noisily. No more pretense. No more ceremony. Just raw appreciation.
Even Qian Qian—who had prepared one of the most elegant courses in the competition's history—watched in disbelief as her own plate was respectfully pushed aside, barely half-finished.
But Yun Che's ramen? The bowls were practically being emptied.
Another judge raised his voice. "This broth… it's unlike anything I've tasted. What is it made of?"
Yun Che shrugged.
"Soy milk and miso."
"Miso?" another asked. "What… what is that?"
Yun Che scratched his cheek. "Hard to say what you folks call it around here. But where I come from, miso is a fermented soybean paste. We use it as a base for soup, among other things. Rich in umami."
"And soy milk?"
"A byproduct of tofu-making. Think of it like the juice of refined beans."
The judges nodded like students before a master. Every word etched into memory.
"How did such ingredients—so humble—become something so divine?" Luo Ran whispered. "There's warmth in this dish. Not luxury. Not pride. Comfort. Like a memory… of simpler days."
"This…" one of the judges murmured, eyes narrowing as he analyzed the bowl before him. "Could it be… Spirit Pulse Beans and Cloudsilk Dew?"
Yun Che's eyebrow twitched.
"That's what you call soybeans and soy milk?!" he screamed internally.
Another judge leaned in. "Is it possible to create such depth of flavor using only those two?"
Yun Che cleared his throat, trying not to look baffled.
"I mashed a rich, smooth, sticky ebi-taro into the broth to give it body."
"…ebi-taro?" Luo Ran asked, intrigued. To think Yun Che knew more ingredients that even he doesn't know about.
"…It's called yam back home," Yun Che muttered, praying no one asked what its name was in their world. The last thing he wanted was someone calling it Heavenroot Spirit Muck or something equally ridiculous.
"I feel… warm," one of the elders whispered, hand resting on his chest. "It's not just the broth—it's something deeper."
A ripple passed through the coliseum like a breeze before a storm. Conversations died. Even Qian Qian looked up in disbelief, her focus briefly broken.
Yun Che nodded casually.
"That's the effect of a balanced dose of spicy oil, fresh ginger, and garlic. They don't overpower the palate. Instead, they gently warm the body from the inside out."
Luo Ran leaned forward again, studying the contents of the bowl with greater reverence.
"And the toppings… they reflect the chef's meticulous care."
Yun Che gestured at the colorful arrangement.
"The carrots and turnips were roasted with charcoal until lightly charred. That slight bitterness from the char—tempered by the natural sugars—was enhanced with just a pinch of rock salt. It brings out their sweetness. Each element was prepared separately and then unified in the broth."
He crossed his arms, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
"Like the beef dish I made before—every ingredient here was chosen to support the others. No luxury, no flash. Just honest flavors stacked to create a complex and comforting taste."
A long silence followed his words. Then…
Clink.
Another spoon touched an empty bowl.
A judge had finished—and was already reaching for the last drops with both hands.
"This… what is this?!" Luo Ran exclaimed, holding up a peculiar, golden-brown block from the bowl with his chopsticks. "It's… firm, nutty, and yet delicate! Remarkable!"
"That?" Yun Che replied casually, "That's called Tempeh."
"Tem…peh?" Luo Ran repeated, unfamiliar with the name.
"It's a traditional food from… let's just say, a faraway clan called Indonesians. Made from fermented soybeans. Nutty flavor, chewy texture, high protein content—basically, a vegetarian meat substitute."
"Indon…nesian?" Luo Ran struggled with the foreign word.
"Clans and cultures," Yun Che muttered, waving it off, "Don't ask too many questions. Your brain might short-circuit."
Luo Ran took a slow, deliberate bite—and then sighed in satisfaction.
"It's mild… but incredibly filling!"
Yun Che nodded.
"Exactly. For judges or people who don't eat meat or dairy, this works as a solid replacement. I marinated it in soy sauce and wine to deepen the flavor—makes it resemble meat without being meat."
Luo Ran blinked in realization.
"Then… this entire ramen… is made from vegetarian stock?!"
That revelation sent a stir through the audience. Vegetarian cooking was notoriously difficult in cultivation realms. The idea of crafting meat-like richness using only plant ingredients? Practically heresy.
"Right on point," Yun Che confirmed. "No meat, fish, or poultry. The broth is made from Sea Spirit Grass—what I call kelp—and Wood Spirit Cap, which you might know as shiitake mushrooms."
He tapped his head as he spoke to himself. "I had to use the System after all. Our naming sense isn't exactly aligned."
Luo Ran's brows furrowed with respect. "Sea Spirit Grass and Wood Spirit Cap… they synergize to create umami! That elusive, savory depth most chefs can't even identify!"
Yun Che folded his arms, lips twitching into a nostalgic smile.
"Back where I came from… meat was a luxury. So we had to get creative—learning to 'fake' the taste using only what we could grow. Fermented beans, dried mushrooms, sea vegetables… With the right treatment, they can become something truly satisfying."
Another judge slurped his noodles, unable to stop. "It doesn't taste like vegetables at all…"
Luo Ran stared at Yun Che in open admiration.
"You mean to tell me… without even touching meat, you created a dish this rich? This… soul-warming?"
Yun Che grinned.
"Isn't it more interesting that way? I mean—anyone can make something taste good with high-grade meat. But turning vegetables into something that mimics it? That takes real technique."
There was silence again. Even Qian Qian, across him, said nothing. She had poured everything into her dish, created a divine work of art… and here was Yun Che, making peasant food with no meat taste like heaven.
Lady Qian Qian gritted her teeth. "I can't accept this!"
"Instead of complaining, take a taste. And tell me straight why it isn't enough." Yun Che handed her a bowl of the said ramen.
Lady Qian Qian hesitated, staring at the humble bowl in front of her.
It wasn't flashy. It didn't radiate spiritual light. There was no golden sheen, no luxurious aroma of rare spirit beasts or phoenix marrow. It was… simple. Wheat noodles in a cloudy, fragrant broth, topped with beautifully arranged vegetables and odd foreign ingredients.
She scoffed inwardly.
"Let's see what kind of 'miracle' this really is."
She lifted the chopsticks, took a small bite of the noodles—smooth, springy, lightly soaked in the broth. Her eyes widened slightly. Then, a spoonful of broth.
Her lips parted. Her breath caught.
"What…?"
A slow warmth bloomed in her chest. Not the overwhelming burn of a fiery dish, but a gentle, rolling comfort. Like sunshine through silk curtains on a cold morning.
She took another sip.
The ginger. The garlic. The soft whisper of spice. The mellow depth of the broth wrapped around her tongue and throat like a soft blanket, slowly unlocking her tension with every swallow.
She tried a piece of the tempeh. It crumbled with the perfect chew, the soy marinade releasing a subtle sweetness that contrasted the savory broth.
Another bite. Then another.
The bowl was halfway empty before she realized she had forgotten to criticize it.
Yun Che, standing with arms folded, simply smirked.
"Well?"
Lady Qian Qian lowered the bowl slowly. Her expression was unreadable… then her lips twitched.
"…I hate this."
Yun Che raised an eyebrow.
"…Because it's perfect." she admitted, voice low. "It's infuriating. I put everything into my dish—flavor balance, visual impact, spiritual ingredient fusion. And you made this—a commoner's meal—into something that makes me… feel."
She glanced up at him, almost in disbelief.
"It's not just food. It's comfort. It's healing. It's… home."
The crowd fell dead silent as her words echoed.
Then, one by one, people began to nod. Not just the judges, but spectators too—who had watched with bated breath.
Yun Che simply smiled, reaching out and taking the empty bowl from her hands and handed another bowl to her.
"You've grown…" Qian Qian murmured, her gaze lingering on the empty bowl in her hands. "You've become… such an amazing person."
Yun Che blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"
She didn't look at him at first. Her voice was calm, yet full of something unspoken.
"You created such a satisfying dish—just by using wild vegetables and humble ingredients," she said, lifting her eyes slowly. "To double their flavor… to bring this level of depth and warmth… This isn't just cooking. It's the life of a man who's walked many paths. One who's tasted the world."
Luo Ran took another sip, savoring the last of the broth as though reluctant to finish.
"The flavor hits hard, but it's… strangely comforting," the old judge said, voice thick with wonder. "Every bite urges the next. I can't stop eating it."
"The spice—it's exquisite," Qian Qian added, her tone almost reverent. "It dances on the tip of my tongue… as if energy is flowing through every meridian of my body."
"My whole being feels rejuvenated," another judge said, stretching his arms. "My meridians… they're pulsing like I'm decades younger. What kind of sorcery is in this bowl?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then—clack.
One judge pushed his empty bowl forward.
Clack. Another.
One by one, each of the judges followed suit, their eyes never leaving Yun Che.
Finally, Lady Qian Qian gently placed her bowl forward too. Her fingers lingered on its edge for a moment before she let go.
All in favor.
A roar thundered across the arena as the announcer's voice cracked with excitement—
"Unanimous! A unanimous decision from all judges!! The winner of this year's Blue Wind Culinary Grand Festival… the man who turned simplicity into sublimity—
"Wait!"
It came from Lady Qian Qian.