A soft wind blew through the charred remains of the eastern courtyard, curling around shattered roof tiles and splintered beams like a silent mourner. The stars overhead flickered behind rising smoke, their light dimmed by the ruin below. The moon sat swollen and low, casting pale light over a sect still bleeding from its wounds.
Lin Tian sat upright on a stone bench at the edge of the kitchen grounds, his robes freshly bound in layers of pale silk bandages. Every breath brought a fresh spike of pain through his ribs, but he didn't complain. He watched the disciples of Ironbone Sect work through the night, collecting bodies, extinguishing fires, and reinforcing broken walls.
The aftermath was always quieter than the battle.
His cleaver lay across his lap, cleaned and sharpened, though faint crimson stains still lingered near the base of the blade. Beside him sat Bai Yue, pale but stable, his wounds treated by a pair of outer sect healers. The boy clutched a bamboo bowl of porridge with both hands, though he barely touched it.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. The silence between them was not awkward—just heavy, like a thick broth simmering too long on the fire.
Eventually, Bai Yue whispered, "They… came for you, didn't they?"
Lin Tian nodded slowly. "They did."
"Because of your cooking?"
Lin Tian chuckled, then winced. "Partly. But also because of what cooking represents."
Bai Yue glanced at him, brow furrowed. "But… you're not a threat. You just… feed people."
Lin Tian's eyes narrowed as he watched a disciple roll a body in a blood-soaked shroud. "That's what they fear the most."
The Frost Orchid cultivator stood a short distance away, speaking quietly with Elder Wu, one of the last remaining inner elders of Ironbone. Her pale robes had been mended where Yu Mo's poison had scored them, but the icy aura that surrounded her remained untouched.
Lin Tian didn't know her name.
She hadn't offered it. He hadn't asked.
But every time their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them, like the first taste of a dish that lingered too long on the tongue, uncertain whether it was sweet or bitter.
He looked back toward the shattered kitchen entrance.
Only the outer walls remained. The interior had collapsed completely during the battle. Smoke still curled from the beams, and the scent of scorched spices clung to the stones.
Bai Yue followed his gaze. "I can help rebuild it."
Lin Tian didn't answer immediately. His eyes traced the blackened doorway, the scorched threshold, the stones worn smooth by years of his footfalls.
"Not rebuild," he said softly. "Redesign."
Bai Yue blinked. "What do you mean?"
Lin Tian tapped his cleaver against the stone bench. "The old kitchen served its time. But if I'm going to survive here, if I'm going to keep cooking and defending this place… I'll need something more."
He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"A proper fortress kitchen."
Bai Yue frowned. "A… what?"
Lin Tian's gaze gleamed in the moonlight. "Stone walls. Inner compartments. Smoke traps. Spirit-fire stoves reinforced with talisman wards. Cutting stations that double as weapon racks. Daggerproof spice racks."
Bai Yue's mouth slowly fell open. "Is… that even legal?"
Lin Tian smiled faintly. "I don't care if it is."
Before the boy could respond, footsteps approached. The Frost Orchid cultivator stood before them, her sword sheathed at her hip.
"You should be resting," she said to Lin Tian, arms folded.
"I am," he replied dryly. "Just happens my rest involves planning architectural defense routes around wok placements."
She arched a brow. "Most chefs wouldn't be sketching out how to turn a soup counter into a kill zone."
Lin Tian shrugged, then winced. "I'm not like most chefs."
She studied him for a moment. "I'll return to my sect by morning. My task here is done."
Lin Tian's jaw tensed. He hadn't expected her to stay, but the words still scraped at something beneath his ribs.
"You saved me," he said finally.
She nodded once. "You'll repay me. Someday."
He looked up at her. "What's your name?"
She hesitated. Then:
"Hua Ying."
He nodded, committing it to memory.
Bai Yue leaned forward. "You came all that way just for Senior Lin?"
Hua Ying glanced at him. "No. I came for something else. But found him instead."
She turned to leave but paused, looking back. "Your blade work… it wasn't ordinary."
Lin Tian grunted. "I was a chef before I was a fighter. Still am."
She tilted her head slightly. "You cut like a cultivator who's studied hundreds of sword manuals."
"I studied onions."
For the first time, a real smile tugged at her lips. She walked away, boots clicking softly on the blood-streaked stone.
Lin Tian leaned back against the bench, sighing through his teeth.
"She's strong," Bai Yue whispered.
"Very," Lin Tian agreed. "And dangerous."
"You like her?"
Lin Tian didn't answer. Instead, he stared out at the horizon, where the first hints of dawn were just beginning to crack the sky open.
The scent of burned rice still lingered in the wind, but beneath it, Lin Tian caught something else: the faint aroma of earth, of moisture, of herbs beginning to stir in their soil beds beneath the courtyard.
The night had ended.
But something new had begun.
....
Lin Tian's eyes were fixed on the faint glow in the eastern sky. Dawn's pale brushstrokes spilled over the mountain ridges, painting the clouds in streaks of coral and gold. The first rays touched the shattered roofs of the Ironbone Sect, catching on jagged beams and scorched tiles.
He breathed deeply. Even mixed with the copper tang of blood and ash, the crisp morning air held a promise of renewal.
Bai Yue shuffled closer on the bench, glancing at the pale streaks of bandages around Lin Tian's chest. "Senior Lin… what level of cultivation are you now?"
Lin Tian blinked, surprised by the question. He lowered his cleaver to his lap and traced a finger along the blade's spine.
"I'm… somewhere around the Third Vein Stage."
Bai Yue's eyes widened. "But… you killed assassins who were at Fourth and Fifth Vein!"
Lin Tian shrugged, grimacing as pain shot through his ribs. "Technique matters more than raw force. A sharp knife doesn't need to be huge to cut deep."
Bai Yue's brow furrowed. "But Senior, the gap between stages is huge. My father always said crossing from one Vein to the next is like stepping from earth into sky."
Lin Tian gave a wry smile. "Your father's right."
He glanced at Bai Yue, and for the first time in days, the exhaustion faded from his expression. He shifted on the bench, as if preparing a lecture in the kitchen.
"Listen well. The cultivation realm we're in—the Body Refining Path—is divided into five major ranks before a cultivator even touches true spirit energy."
Bai Yue straightened, eyes wide.
Lin Tian began counting off on his fingers:
"First is Skin Tempering. A cultivator channels qi into the skin, making it tougher than leather. Blades might leave a scratch, but it won't cut deep."
Bai Yue nodded quickly. "That's what the outer sect guards train for."
"Second is Muscle Forging. Qi seeps into muscles, increasing strength and speed. A normal man might swing a sword once. A Muscle Forging cultivator swings it three times in the same breath."
Bai Yue's eyes shone. "So you're there?"
Lin Tian chuckled. "Higher."
He held up a third finger. "Third is the Vein Opening Stage. That's me. Cultivators begin clearing channels inside the body—meridians to circulate qi faster. Each meridian is called a 'Vein.' Most mortals never open even one."
Bai Yue swallowed. "How many veins have you opened?"
"Three," Lin Tian said. "Enough to let me channel bursts of qi. But I'm far from invincible."
Bai Yue looked stunned. "But… you fought people stronger than that."
Lin Tian lifted his fourth finger. Fourth is Bone Tempering. Qi sinks into the bones, hardening them like jade. A punch from a Bone Tempering cultivator can smash boulders. The assassins last night? Some were Bone Tempering."
Bai Yue shivered. "No wonder they were monsters."
Lin Tian nodded grimly. "And finally, fifth is Blood Refining. That's when qi fuses with blood itself. Every drop becomes a weapon. Bleeding cultivators at that level can spit poison, flames, or even acid. Yu Mo was Blood Refining."
Bai Yue's eyes went round as coins. "So… the higher you go, the more monstrous you become."
"Exactly." Lin Tian tapped the cleaver's spine. "But it's not just raw strength. Cultivation can twist you. Yu Mo's qi turned black from poison arts. His entire body was one giant cauldron."
Bai Yue swallowed hard. "That's terrifying."
Lin Tian lowered his hand. "Above those five stages, cultivators enter the Spirit Core Realm. That's when you condense a true core of qi in your dantian. You stop being mortal."
Bai Yue stared at him, eyes gleaming. "Are you… Planning to reach that?"
Lin Tian stared at the horizon, jaw tightening.
"I didn't come to this world for power. I came here with only my knives, my recipes, and the hope I could bring people comfort through food. But after last night… I realized something."
Bai Yue leaned closer. "What?"
Lin Tian's eyes burned. "I can't feed the people I love… if I'm too weak to protect the kitchen."
Bai Yue blinked. "So… you'll keep cultivating?"
Lin Tian nodded. "I'll ascend as high as my body lets me. And I'll keep cooking. Because both paths… they're the same."
Bai Yue tilted his head. "How?"
Lin Tian smirked. "Both require precision. Patience. Sacrifice. And the courage to wield a blade."
He turned and nudged Bai Yue gently with his elbow. "Speaking of blades… You were swinging that cleaver pretty well yesterday."
Bai Yue blushed, scratching his cheek. "I… I was terrified."
Lin Tian grinned. "That's good. Fear keeps your edge sharp."
Bai Yue squinted. "But I thought chefs are supposed to stay calm."
Lin Tian's grin widened. "Only the fools are calm. The real chefs? We're terrified every second. The difference is… we keep cutting anyway."
Hua Ying approached then, her frost aura subdued in the rising warmth of dawn. She carried a scroll under one arm, sealed with pale blue wax marked with the Frost Orchid insignia.
She stopped in front of Lin Tian. "I've spoken with Elder Wu. The Ironbone Sect will survive. But they're weakened. Yu Mo will strike again."
Lin Tian nodded soberly. "I know."
Hua Ying extended the scroll. "This is a list of known Black Iron assassins and their poisons. It may help you. And your… fortress kitchen."
Lin Tian took the scroll, weighing it in his hand. "You're leaving."
"I must return to my sect. The Frost Orchid elders will want my report."
Lin Tian gazed at her for a long moment. "Will we see you again?"
Her lips curved faintly. "That depends. Will your cooking keep improving?"
Lin Tian lifted his chin. "Come back in a month. I'll make you a dish that'll change how you see the heavens."
Hua Ying tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Bold claim, Chef Lin."
"Come hungry," he said.
For a moment, she almost looked as if she might laugh. Then she turned, white robes billowing, and walked toward the outer gates, disappearing into the early morning mist.
Lin Tian watched her go, one hand tightening around the scroll.
Bai Yue whispered beside him. "Senior Lin… when you reach the Spirit Core Realm… will you stop cooking?"
Lin Tian smiled, tired but fierce. "No. That's when I'll start creating dishes worthy of immortals."
He stared toward the horizon, eyes shining like tempered steel.
"After all… what's the point of becoming immortal… if you can't taste eternity?"
......
By mid-morning, the Ironbone Sect was alive with the grim rhythm of repairs. The clang of hammers rang over courtyards, mingling with the hiss of quenching steel as weapons were reforged. Disciples worked in shifts, hauling timber and stone, patching the scorched breaches in the outer walls. The scent of wet earth, ash, and medicinal herbs hung thick in the warm breeze.
Lin Tian stood in the courtyard, leaning heavily on a bamboo staff someone had pressed into his hand. His wounds still burned with each breath, but he ignored the pain. His eyes roamed the broken tiles and half-fallen archways, studying every corner with a craftsman's precision.
Bai Yue hovered beside him, a roll of parchment clutched in his arms. "Senior Lin… are you sure about this?"
Lin Tian exhaled, eyes sharp. "I've never been more sure of anything."
He pointed the tip of his staff at the charred ruins of the kitchen complex. "Look at that, Bai Yue. One fire, one poison master, and our entire kitchen's gone. It's not just about walls. It's about survival."
Bai Yue glanced around anxiously. "But Elder Wu said the sect treasury's nearly empty after repairing the outer gates."
Lin Tian smirked. "Then we'll fund it ourselves."
Bai Yue blinked. "How?"
Lin Tian's eyes glittered. "Through taste."
Bai Yue stared at him, bewildered. Lin Tian lifted a hand and began counting off on his fingers.
"First, we open a food stall near the main sect entrance. Not just buns and noodles—proper dishes. Recipes nobody in the province has tasted before. Flavors that make cultivators weep."
Bai Yue's mouth fell open. "We… we sell food to cultivators?"
Lin Tian nodded. "High-level cultivators eat spirit herbs and plain rice for decades. They'd murder for a meal that tastes of real life. We'll feed them—and charge them spirit stones."
Bai Yue hesitated. "But… we're a martial sect."
"And martial sects still have mouths," Lin Tian snapped. "Besides… the Black Iron Sect tried to kill me because they fear my cooking. So let's make them even more afraid."
Bai Yue shivered. "You're… kind of terrifying when you talk like that."
Lin Tian gave him a crooked grin. "You're damn right I am."
He turned toward the half-collapsed kitchen, his expression hardening. "Now listen carefully. I'm going to need stone masons. Artisans who work with spirit inscriptions. Steelworkers who can shape alloyed pots. And the spirit beast hides."
Bai Yue gaped. "For… a kitchen?"
Lin Tian's eyes blazed. "Not just a kitchen. A fortress kitchen."
He stabbed his staff into the ground, speaking quickly.
"The main room will have walls of spirit-forged stone. Resistant to fire and acid. A ceiling lined with bronze plates to deflect explosions. Underground drains that funnel poison gas out of the chambers. Reinforced storage vaults for rare spices. And a perimeter ring of defensive talismans keyed to my qi signature."
Bai Yue's jaw dropped further with every sentence.
"The spirit-fire stoves will have triple fuel feeds," Lin Tian continued, voice gathering momentum. "Standard wood. Spirit stones for extra heat. And, in emergencies, controlled flames from beast cores. I'm done letting assassins turn my works into weapons against me."
Bai Yue made a squeaking noise. "B-but… the sect will think you're insane!"
Lin Tian spun on him, fire in his eyes. "Let them think it. I'm not just rebuilding a kitchen. I'm forging a sanctuary. A place where the knife and the sword become the same thing."
Bai Yue swallowed hard. "I'll… I'll help. Even if they all call us crazy."
Lin Tian's face softened. "Good. Because this will be your kitchen too, someday."
At that moment, Elder Wu approached, robes spattered with mortar dust, his hair tied back in a tight knot. He eyed Lin Tian warily.
"Chef Lin," he rasped. "I've heard troubling rumors that you plan to build… fortifications inside the sect kitchens."
Lin Tian bowed lightly. "They're not rumors, Elder. They're blueprints."
Elder Wu pinched the bridge of his nose. "We… are a martial sect. Not a fortress."
Lin Tian held Wu's gaze. "Then why did a handful of assassins nearly slaughter half our disciples? Why is the kitchen in ruins? Why is there poison still soaking the courtyard stones?"
Elder Wu opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again, expression sour.
Lin Tian lowered his voice. "Elder Wu… I'm not proposing a castle. I'm proposing safety. For the first time in centuries, Ironbone could be famous not just for martial strength, but for something that brings in resources. Influence. Alliances."
Wu hesitated. "Alliances?"
Lin Tian nodded. "Imagine if major sects visit us for meals. If they bring news, trade, or political favors. If our kitchen becomes a gathering place for information."
Elder Wu scratched his chin. "And you think… cooking can achieve this?"
Lin Tian's eyes gleamed. "Yu Mo thought so. That's why he tried to kill me."
Wu exhaled heavily. "Our coffers are low."
Lin Tian leaned closer. "Let me earn the gold. All I ask… is permission."
Wu studied him for a long moment. At last, he muttered, "You have three months. Raise the funds yourself. Cause no scandal."
Lin Tian bowed. "Understood."
When Elder Wu departed, Bai Yue leaned in, whispering, "Senior Lin… you convinced him!"
Lin Tian gave him a feral grin. "I'm a chef. Convincing people is my specialty."
He glanced at the sun rising higher, bathing the Ironbone Sect in warm gold. His wounds still throbbed. His arm ached where Yu Mo's needle had pierced flesh and muscle. But the fire in his chest burned brighter than ever.
He closed his eyes and envisioned the fortress kitchen. He imagined walls humming with protective talismans, gleaming counters of spirit-forged steel, cauldrons capable of simmering monstrous bones into essence-rich broths. A place where knives were weapons—and weapons, tools.
And above all else, a place where no assassin would ever again spill blood across his chopping boards.
He opened his eyes and said softly:
"If I have to ascend the heavens… I'll take my kitchen with me."
Bai Yue's eyes shone. "Senior Lin… let's do it."
Lin Tian slapped his shoulder lightly, so as not to jar his healing wound. "Good. Now, go gather the other apprentices. We've got spices to source, beast hides to buy, and customers to seduce."
Bai Yue blinked. "Customers to… what?"
Lin Tian's grin turned wicked. "Seduce their tongues. With taste."
Bai Yue blushed furiously. "O-oh."
Lin Tian turned back toward the ruined kitchen, his silhouette etched in the morning sun. Smoke still curled from the blackened beams. But to Lin Tian, it already smelled like possibility.
He lifted his cleaver, resting it against his shoulder.
And in the hush that followed, he whispered:
"Let them come for my knives again. Next time… I'll feed them their own fear."
......
Two days later, the Ironbone Sect's outer gates swung wide under the pale dawn. Lin Tian stepped through them with Bai Yue at his side, both wearing fresh robes of dark grey embroidered with the sect's emblem. The mountain path stretched away before them, winding down into the mist-filled valleys where traders, farmers, and roving cultivators traveled in streams like migrating fish.
Lin Tian inhaled deeply, feeling the crisp bite of mountain air fill his lungs. The scent of pine sap and damp earth mingled with the faint hint of burning incense wafting up from hidden temples in the forests below.
Beside him, Bai Yue juggled two bamboo scrolls, squinting anxiously at the inked characters. "Senior Lin, are you sure about these markets? They're… dangerous. Cultivators from every sect gather there."
Lin Tian adjusted the cleaver strapped across his back like a swordsman's blade. "That's exactly why we're going. The rarer the spices and beast ingredients, the closer they are to the biggest sects—and the black markets."
Bai Yue swallowed. "And… the Black Iron Sect could be watching."
Lin Tian's eyes glinted like hammered steel. "Let them watch. Let them see I'm not afraid."
He strode downhill, boots thudding against mossy stones.
They reached the first market by midday—a sprawling open-air bazaar set beside a river that gleamed like liquid glass under the sun. Hundreds of stalls clustered together under bright awnings. Banners in every color snapped in the breeze. Shouts of vendors rose into the air like the clang of weapons.
"Spirit grass! Fresh from Cloud Mist Valley!""Poison antidotes, guaranteed pure!""Ice Jade Ginseng! Perfect for Core Condensation!"
Cultivators in robes of green, blue, and crimson drifted through the crowd, weapons strapped to their backs, their eyes wary beneath flowing sleeves. Talisman-sellers hawked shimmering slips of yellow paper. Smiths pounded glowing steel into sword blades while sparks danced like fireflies.
Lin Tian paused at the threshold of the crowd, surveying the shifting tide of humanity. His nose twitched. Beneath the scents of incense and metal, he caught faint, exquisite traces:
The warm, buttery aroma of Wild Spirit Truffle from the northern mountains.A whiff of Sweet Lotus Root, rumored to cure spirit qi imbalance.The sharp herbal bite of Ironleaf Peppercorn, said to numb both tongue and soul.
His blood stirred. He stepped into the market.
Bai Yue scurried after him. "Senior Lin! Wait!"
Lin Tian moved like a predator stalking prey. He stopped first at a stall piled with knobbly green roots, each one exuding a powerful, peppery scent.
The vendor bowed deeply. "Honored cultivators! May I interest you in Thunderroot Ginger? Stimulates meridian flow. Excellent for clearing blockages in the Vein Opening Stage!"
Lin Tian picked up a root, rolling it between his fingers. Tiny sparks crackled along its skin, tickling his palm. He sniffed it, eyes narrowing.
"Not bad," he murmured. "But it's a late harvest. Less pungency."
The vendor gaped. "Y-you can tell that by smell?"
Lin Tian glanced at him coolly. "A chef's nose is sharper than any blade."
Bai Yue tugged his sleeve. "Senior Lin, do we have enough coin?"
Lin Tian flipped over a small pouch. "We'll barter."
He pulled out a pale green jar from his robes and unsealed the lid. A wave of fragrance burst into the air, so intense that nearby cultivators turned their heads. The vendor inhaled sharply.
"By the heavens… what is that?"
"Celestial Ferment Paste," Lin Tian replied. "A specialty of my Ironbone Kitchen. Aged black beans, mountain wine, and thousand-day salt. One teaspoon transforms an entire pot of stew."
The vendor swallowed. "I… I'll trade half my Thunderroot Ginger for that jar."
Lin Tian tilted his head. "The whole stock. And throw in two jin of Star Anise Root."
The vendor wavered, then nodded furiously. "Deal!"
Lin Tian snapped the jar shut and handed it over. Bai Yue stared at him as they moved on.
"You… you're a cultivator merchant."
Lin Tian grinned. "I'm a chef. And a chef always gets his ingredients."
They visited stall after stall.
At one table, Lin Tian acquired thin slices of Shadow Lotus Leaf, said to boost stealth techniques but also lend a subtle, earthy flavor to soups.
At another, he traded for Moon Dew Honey, luminous and sweet enough to harmonize bitter medicinal herbs in delicate broths.
At a stall run by a squat, scowling man with tattoos across his bald skull, Lin Tian bought a single dried fruit that shimmered silver under the sunlight.
Bai Yue pointed. "What's that?"
Lin Tian's eyes gleamed. "Silver Dragon Plum. When soaked into a sauce, it amplifies qi circulation. And in small doses… it can save a cultivator's life after severe poison."
Bai Yue shuddered. "Sounds dangerous."
Lin Tian tucked the plum into his pouch. "The best flavors always are."
Eventually, they found themselves at a stall shadowed by tattered black banners. Strange herbs hung in bundles from the canopy, some dripping pale sap that hissed as it struck the ground. The vendor was an old woman with skin like parchment and eyes like obsidian beads.
She eyed Lin Tian with faint amusement. "Chef. You seek dangerous spices."
Lin Tian met her gaze evenly. "I seek power through flavor."
The old woman chuckled. "Then you want this."
She held up a slender glass vial. Inside was a powder so dark it seemed to drink in light.
Bai Yue recoiled. "Senior Lin, don't buy that. It's probably cursed!"
Lin Tian leaned closer. "What is it?"
The old woman lowered her voice. "Black Mist Chili Powder. A pinch ignites spirit qi in any dish… but too much, and it drives the eater into a berserk rage."
Lin Tian's mouth twitched. "I'll take it."
Bai Yue stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.
By sunset, Lin Tian and Bai Yue staggered out of the market under the weight of three bulging sacks. Bai Yue trailed behind, panting under the load.
Lin Tian gazed at the road winding back up the mountainside, the sunset bathing the peaks in molten red. His robes smelled of a dozen spices, smoke, and distant thunder.
"Bai Yue," he said quietly.
"Yes, Senior?"
Lin Tian's eyes hardened. "These ingredients… they're not just for dishes. They're weapons. And shields. And messages."
Bai Yue blinked. "Messages?"
Lin Tian nodded. "One day soon, I'll serve a dish that tells every sect in this province that Ironbone stands strong. That no one can erase a chef's knife from the dao."
Bai Yue looked worried. "And the Black Iron Sect?"
Lin Tian's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Let them come. Next time… they'll be the ones on the chopping block."
He hefted his sacks of spices, eyes shining under the fading light.
"Because the taste of fear… is always best served hot."
...........
By the time Lin Tian and Bai Yue reached the Ironbone Sect gates, night had fully claimed the mountains. A harvest moon hung low, flooding the peaks with pale gold. Lanterns flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across the stone steps where disciples stood guard with spears and wary eyes.
A pair of outer sect disciples halted Lin Tian as he approached. Their eyes flicked to the cleaver strapped across his back, then to the bulging sacks Bai Yue struggled to carry.
"Senior Lin," one of them said hesitantly, "what… are you bringing into the sect?"
Lin Tian stared at him. "Ingredients."
The disciple sniffed the air, then recoiled. "That… smells like demon chili powder."
Lin Tian's lips twitched. "It is. Don't touch it unless you want to wake up punching your elders."
The guard swallowed and stepped aside quickly. Lin Tian strode past them, Bai Yue scurrying after him under the weight of the sacks.
Inside the Ironbone grounds, the sect felt raw and on edge. Repairs were ongoing even under the moonlight. Carpenters hammered planks into broken beams. Talisman masters replaced scorched paper wards along the gates. Disciples with bandaged arms patrolled the corridors, their eyes scanning every shadow.
Elder Wu intercepted Lin Tian near the main courtyard. The elder's hair was streaked with sawdust, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"Chef Lin," he grunted. "You've returned. I assume… successfully?"
Lin Tian swung one sack forward and dumped it on the ground. An explosion of fragrance burst into the air: peppery heat, floral sweetness, and the smoky bite of dried herbs. A dozen disciples nearby stopped what they were doing, sniffing the air like starving animals.
Wu blinked. "Good heavens…"
Lin Tian inclined his head. "I now possess enough rare spices to poison—or delight the entire province."
Elder Wu sighed. "Why does that sentence make me so nervous?"
Lin Tian ignored him, motioning Bai Yue forward. Together, they began spreading bundles of herbs across a long stone bench under the eaves of the courtyard. Disciples gathered closer, wide-eyed as Lin Tian arranged pungent green leaves, wrinkled roots, and glittering crystal vials.
Wu folded his arms. "Explain, please."
Lin Tian picked up a cluster of pale purple stalks. "Dreamscent Grass. Steep it in broth, and it calms spiritual qi instability in cultivators who've forced a breakthrough. Also makes an excellent aromatic base for fish stews."
He laid it aside and picked up a flat packet of shimmering flakes. "Thunder Salt. Harvested from caves struck by lightning. Raises qi circulation speed—and turns plain roasted meat into a delicacy."
Wu's eyes narrowed. "These are… spiritual materials."
Lin Tian nodded. "Which means they're worth spirit stones. We're sitting on a treasure trove, Elder. A single meal using these ingredients could fetch prices high enough to rebuild half the kitchen."
Wu hesitated. "And you'd… serve cultivators from other sects?"
Lin Tian's gaze sharpened. "Not just serve them. Control the conversation. Information flows like wine at a dinner table. Let them come for a taste—and leave having told me their secrets."
Wu rubbed his temples. "You're turning a kitchen into a spy network."
Lin Tian lifted one brow. "You want the sect to survive, don't you?"
Wu scowled—but said nothing further.
Once Elder Wu retreated, muttering curses under his breath, Bai Yue slumped against the courtyard railing, panting. "Senior Lin… we've… we've done so much… and we don't even have a kitchen yet."
Lin Tian clapped his shoulder. "Then let's build one."
The next day dawned cool and clear. A crisp breeze rustled the banners atop Ironbone's highest towers. Lin Tian stood amid the smoking wreckage of his old kitchen, staring at the blackened walls as stone masons and carpenters bustled around him.
He rolled out a parchment scroll across a makeshift wooden table. Bai Yue peered over his shoulder, eyes growing rounder with each brush stroke.
"Senior Lin… this looks like a fortress."
"It is a fortress," Lin Tian said, eyes glinting.
On the parchment, sketched in neat, bold lines, was the layout for a new kitchen:
Triple-layered stone walls, infused with protective talismans.
Reinforced ceiling plates capable of resisting both fire and spirit explosions.
Spirit-fire stoves with adjustable heat channels, designed to redirect flames if an enemy tried to sabotage the hearths.
An underground emergency escape route leading to a hidden valley behind the sect.
Spice storage vaults shielded by spirit locks keyed to Lin Tian's qi signature.
Cooking stations are spaced to allow combat maneuvers if attacked.
Knife racks doubling as concealed weapon sheaths.
Bai Yue whispered, "No other sect has anything like this."
Lin Tian smirked. "Which is why no one else will dare attack a chef again."
He rolled up the parchment and handed it to a grizzled stonemason with arms as thick as tree trunks. The man eyed the drawings, grunted, and scratched his beard.
"Never built a kitchen like this, Senior Lin."
Lin Tian patted his arm. "First time for everything."
The stonemason grinned. "Pay me enough spirit stones, I'll build you a fortress fit for the Emperor's chef."
Lin Tian's grin matched his. "Then we have a deal."
The day unfolded in a flurry of activity. Workers began hauling fresh stone blocks up the mountain path. Smiths arrived from neighboring villages, curious about Lin Tian's custom orders for high-heat alloys and spirit-infused iron. Younger disciples gathered around, eager to help—even if half of them seemed more excited about the possibility of tasting Lin Tian's next dishes than laying bricks.
By late afternoon, Lin Tian was covered in dust, leaning on a beam while he supervised the digging of the underground escape tunnel.
Bai Yue returned from an errand, clutching a folded letter. "Senior Lin! A message arrived for you."
Lin Tian frowned, wiping sweat from his brow. "From who?"
Bai Yue handed it over. Lin Tian unfolded the letter and scanned the elegant brush strokes. His expression darkened.
"What is it?" Bai Yue asked, eyes wide.
Lin Tian read aloud:
"Chef Lin Tian.
Word of your fortress kitchen has reached ears far beyond your mountain.
Some are curious.Others… less so.
You tread a dangerous path. Swords may be sheathed for now, but poison lingers unseen in broth and tea alike.
—A Friend"
Bai Yue paled. "Is it the Black Iron Sect again?"
Lin Tian crushed the letter in his fist. "Could be. Or it could be someone else who wants me dead."
He gazed out over the half-built walls, his eyes reflecting the hammering glow of the sun. The rhythm of chisels striking stone echoed around him like war drums.
Elder Wu appeared beside him, cloak flapping in the breeze. "Chef Lin… trouble already?"
Lin Tian didn't look away from the growing walls. "Of course. That's how I know I'm on the right path."
Wu muttered, "Madman."
Lin Tian smiled faintly. "A chef's job is to stand at the stove… even when the flames reach his eyebrows."
He dropped the crumpled letter into a nearby brazier. Fire devoured it in a flare of sparks.
Bai Yue stared at the ashes, voice trembling. "Senior Lin… are we safe here?"
Lin Tian's voice was quiet but hard as steel. "We will be."
He lifted his gaze to the mountains beyond the sect walls, where sunlight spilled like molten gold over jagged peaks.