I. The Five Great Artifacts and the Burden of the Host
The disappearance of the Green Jade Ruyi was not merely a theft; it was a fracture that threatened the foundation of the Murim Alliance. The artifact was one of the Five Great Jade Artifacts, sacred relics traditionally owned by the five largest powers in the Jianghu (Martial World), which now form the core axis of the Murim Alliance. Each artifact not only symbolizes the strength of its owning sect or family but also represents the oath of unity that once bound them together to defeat the Demonic Cult twenty years prior.
The Five Great Jade Artifacts are:
Green Jade Ruyi (The Verdant Wish-Granting Scepter): Belongs to the Shaolin Temple. A curved ceremonial scepter made of pure nephrite jade, symbolizing benevolence, success, and peace. Its simple shape reflects Shaolin's profound philosophy and its neutrality as the moral arbiter of the Jianghu. This Ruyi is the most revered because Shaolin is the oldest sect.
Green Jade Destiny Sword (The Verdant Destiny Sword): Belongs to the Wudang Sect. A straight, jade-bladed sword, symbolizing truth, justice, and the balance of Yin and Yang. It is the symbol of Wudang's leadership in swordsmanship and Taoism, and is only passed down to the new Sect Leader.
Green Jade Dagger (The Verdant Dagger): Belongs to the Tang Family (Sichuan Tang Clan). A small, dark, and extremely sharp dagger, concealed within a silk handle. It symbolizes the Tang's expertise in hidden weapons, secrecy, and their ability to eradicate evil from the shadows.
Green Jade Staff (The Verdant Staff): Belongs to the Kaypang Sect (Beggar's Sect). A long staff intricately carved with a dragon, the symbol of unity for millions of commoners and the strength of the populace. The staff is the symbol of Kaypang's leadership; whoever holds it is considered the Grand Leader.
Green Jade Plum Blossom (The Verdant Plum Blossom): Belongs to the Mount Hua Sect. An exquisitely delicate jade ornament, shaped like a sturdy plum blossom branch with five petals at its tip, adorned with seven small plum blossom buds also made of jade. It symbolizes resilience, purity, and eternal beauty amid hardship. This artifact is always displayed in the sect's main hall, reflecting Mount Hua's elegant and demanding style of swordsmanship.
Every year, this Murim Alliance Friendship Tournament is hosted in turn by one of these five major powers. The head of the hosting sect or family is obligated to display their Jade Artifact during the opening ceremony as a symbol of unity and the unbroken bond of the alliance.
Now, Shaolin is the host, and the Green Jade Ruyi vanished ten days before the tournament began.
Amidst the confusion and bone-piercing burden, Abbot Xuan Ye sat in his hidden meditation room, as still as a statue, yet a storm of anger and fear raged within him. He had to act, but he had to act in complete secrecy. Panic would destroy Shaolin's dignity and signal weakness to enemies—or even to ambitious allies.
Xuan Ye made a risky decision. He chose to break the Alliance's secret code and ask for help from two other powers, not as allies, but as specialists.
"Fa Xing," Xuan Ye commanded, his voice now calm, "Immediately send a secret message, using the fastest pigeon, to the Murong Family and the Tang Family. We cannot delay any longer. We need skills that only they possess."
His targets were the two great family heads: Murong Yuan and Tang Feng.
The Murong Family, besides being famous for their graceful swordsmanship and unarmed combat arts (often dubbed the 'Southern Sovereigns'), also possessed unparalleled skills in craftsmanship and forgery, a side expertise they kept hidden from the public eye of the Jianghu. This expertise included jade carving, replication of ancient objects, and the art of material disguise.
"We need a replica of the Ruyi. Fast. Perfect. Something that can fool the eyes of thousands of martial artists," Xuan Ye whispered to Fa Xing. "Only Murong Yuan has such a craft. He must arrive within three days and work under an oath of secrecy."
The Tang Family of Sichuan, on the other hand, were masters of poison, herbalism, and most feared, their dark weapons and assassin capabilities. They are the masters of infiltration, reconnaissance, and spy eradication.
"Tang Feng, the Tang Family Head, must come to help us search for the intruder," Xuan Ye continued. "His expertise in analyzing trails and identifying security gaps is unmatched. No spy can hide from the Tang net. He must deploy his best assassins to scour every corner of the temple, without causing any disturbance, ensuring that the culprit, or at least their motive, is uncovered before the ceremony begins."
Xuan Ye was convinced: this had to be resolved quickly without causing a major disturbance. The tournament was a stage for honor, not a place to display vulnerability.
II. The Art of Shaolin Vegetarian Cooking: The Foundation of Unseen Strength
While high-level intrigue haunted the abbot, Zhao Huo's world revolved around the rhythm of woks and kitchen knives. The Shaolin kitchen was the foundation of an unseen strength. If the monks' and guests' stomachs were empty, or worse, unsatisfied, inner peace would falter, and martial concentration would collapse.
In the main kitchen, which was the size of a small hall, the circulating aroma was not that of soothing incense, but a sharp blend of freshly minced ginger, slow-cooked coconut milk, and the fragrance of newly ground spices. Although Shaolin is a Buddhist temple upholding vegetarianism, for Zhao Huo, this was not a limitation, but an infinite canvas.
Zhao Huo, who was still young for the position of Head Chef (only 24 years old), was a phenomenon. Since he took over six years ago, mealtimes at Shaolin had transformed from an obligation into the most anticipated moments. He possessed two extraordinary talents:
Absolute Recipe Memory (Memory of Taste): Zhao Huo could recall every recipe he had ever seen, every flavor combination he had ever tasted, and every aroma he had ever inhaled. His mind functioned like an infinite library of tastes. He didn't just remember 10,000 recipes; he remembered the nuances of those 10,000 flavors.
Zen in Vegetarian Cuisine: He had the ability to create intense natural Umami (savory flavor), as if the dish contained meat, when it did not. He used dried mushrooms, fermented soybeans, and vegetable broth cooked for hours to achieve a depth of flavor that tricked the palates of the monks and, soon, the martial artists accustomed to the Jianghu's luxurious feasts.
"Every grain of rice must have consciousness, every vegetable must have a soul," was the mantra he often taught his assistant monks.
On the first morning of preparation, Zhao Huo stood in the middle of the kitchen, slicing tofu with the precision of Wudang's fastest sword.
"Monk Da Xiong!" he called out, without taking his eyes off the knife. "Make sure all the black soybeans are sorted. I do not want a single rotten one. Remember the Abbot's teaching: 'The slightest weakness in the food chain is a security loophole.'"
Da Xiong, a massive monk with hands as strong as iron, nodded obediently. "Understood, Sifu Zhao Huo! But... why is it so strict this time? Not even the supervising monks have checked this thoroughly."
Zhao Huo sighed, without letting go of the calmness on his face. "Because we are hosting the entire Jianghu, Da Xiong. They bring intrigue and ambition. Our food must be perfect, so their minds focus on the tournament, not on our weakness. And, we must observe who brings in and takes out what from the temple. Every arrival carries a potential threat."
As head of the kitchen, Zhao Huo had activated his 'Kitchen Information Network'. He assigned his assistant monks and temple workers under him to observe all logistics movements, record new faces among the delivery people, and report any strange conversations around the kitchen area.
Zhao Huo knew he was carrying out Shaolin's most unlikely spy duty: looking for a needle in a haystack, searching for information amid the smoke of the wok.
III. Ten Days Leading up to the Tournament
Ten days before the Murim Alliance Friendship Tournament, Shaolin Temple transformed into a bustling beehive. Waves of guests began to arrive.
Days 1–3: First Wave and Initial Tension
In the first few days, the majority of arrivals were minor sects and smaller families eager to secure an early spot. Zhao Huo's kitchen immediately became a center of pressure.
While supervising the delivery of herbs and groceries to the warehouse in the eastern part of the temple, Zhao Huo met Mei Lin from Emei and Feng Yu from Wudang again. They seemed to be overseeing the arrangement of accommodations for their respective sects.
"Monk Zhao Huo," greeted Feng Yu, bowing respectfully. "I must admit, your corn porridge breakfast this morning had an unexpected depth of flavor. It felt like... you put all the wisdom of Zen into a bowl of porridge."
Zhao Huo returned the greeting with a sincere smile. "That is the 'Porridge of Enlightenment', Sir Feng Yu. I only use water, corn, and patience. Food is a reflection of the mind. The clearer the mind that cooks, the purer the taste."
Mei Lin, standing beside Feng Yu, looked at Zhao Huo with a sharp gaze. "A chef with such a philosophy is rare. But Monk, your business here makes you look like the manager of a fortress, not a head chef. Isn't it too much for Shaolin to let you handle the logistics of the entire temple?"
Zhao Huo merely chuckled lightly. "Lady Swordsman Mei Lin, in Shaolin, no task is too big or too small. Leading a kitchen is like leading a battle. You must know where every commodity is placed, and ensure every assistant monk works with maximum efficiency. A weakness in the kitchen could mean defeat in the battle of life."
As he spoke, he noticed something. Among the Wudang delivery entourage, he saw a middle-aged man with disproportionately large arm muscles for a servant, and eyes that constantly scanned the rooftops. Zhao Huo made a mental note: Spy or Hidden Wudang Guard?
Meanwhile, Liu Zhen emerged from one of the pavilions, overhearing the rest of the conversation. "Why are you wasting time with this nonsense? A chef should smell of the wok, not philosophy. None of this matters. What matters is who will win the tournament. And I hope this chef doesn't serve 'porridge of enlightenment' again; we Wudang martial artists need real food, not rabbit food."
Feng Yu sighed, while Zhao Huo, without losing his smile, simply said, "True depth does not require meat, Sir Liu Zhen. Only those with shallow hearts need luxurious ingredients to find satisfaction."
Zhao Huo's calm words slapped Liu Zhen harder than a physical blow. Liu Zhen merely snorted and left, his resentment towards the monk chef deepening.
Days 4–6: The Arrival of the Core Alliance and the Secret Task
Tension in the Temple escalated with the arrival of the Great Sects. Emei, Wudang, and Mount Hua arrived with large retinues.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, two small and suspicious groups arrived at different intervals, according to Xuan Ye's secret arrangement.
The first group was from the Murong Family. They looked like a group of aristocratic artists, led by Murong Yuan, a graceful middle-aged man with long, delicate fingers. They brought several large wooden crates covered with thick cloth, claimed to be 'artistic raw materials'.
Zhao Huo, who was overseeing the delivery of clean water, noticed the crates were taken directly to a secluded pavilion behind the Monastery, not to the guest rooms. He noted: Movement outside the logistical norm.
"Zhao Huo," Monk Fa Xing called out urgently. "These are important guests, make sure they get the best vegetarian food. They dislike disturbances." Fa Xing gave a meaningful look, which Zhao Huo understood as an order to watch without being seen.
On the sixth day, the second group arrived, much quieter. They were a small group dressed entirely in green, moving like shadows—the Tang Family, led by Tang Feng. Tang Feng was a man in his forties, wearing a simple robe with a small, hidden jade dagger pendant. His eyes were two black pits that seemed capable of seeing through walls.
They were also placed in a secluded area. Zhao Huo noted that they did not ask for luxurious food. Instead, they requested very specific spices and some rare herbs from the Shaolin kitchen—ingredients that Tang typically used for poisons or antidotes.
When Tang Feng met Zhao Huo at the spice warehouse, his eyes scanned Zhao Huo from head to toe.
"You are the Head Chef, Monk Zhao Huo," said Tang Feng, his voice dry like autumn leaves. "Your memory of taste must be extraordinary. You can differentiate every ingredient."
"I only strive to serve the best," Zhao Huo replied humbly. "I can differentiate between pure and poisoned spices."
Tang Feng slightly raised an eyebrow, as if impressed. "Interesting. In our world, a tongue that can differentiate poison is more valuable than a sharp sword. I hope for good cooperation with your kitchen. We will secretly request certain materials for our 'family recipe'. Let no one know."
Zhao Huo nodded, understanding: the spice request was a code for their secret operation. He had inadvertently entered the Abbot's vortex of secrets.
Days 7–9: Logistics Peak and Replication
The last three days were the peak of Shaolin's frenzy. Thousands of guests had packed the temple and surrounding pavilions. Zhao Huo, in the kitchen, had to lead his team in creating porridge, soup, and vegetarian dishes with military precision. He even designed a special menu that blended the bitter taste of Emei, the salty taste of Wudang, the spicy taste of Tang, and the sweet taste of Mount Hua into a single dish—a culinary diplomacy.
New Flavors and Surveillance: Every time he went to fetch supplies in the warehouse or deliver food to the secluded pavilion, he kept watch. He saw foreign monks hiding behind beggar robes (Kaypang?), and he heard hidden whispers about "something missing" among some senior monks.
The Replica: In the secluded pavilion, Murong Yuan worked day and night. A strange green light emanated from behind his window as he used a nearly extinct ancient jade carving technique. Zhao Huo frequently sent hot ginger tea to Fa Xing, who constantly guarded the door, recording any movement.
The Investigation: Meanwhile, Tang Feng and his small team moved silently at night, sweeping every corner of the temple. They set scent traps that only a trained nose could detect, and searched for any residue of poison that might have been used by a spy. Zhao Huo helped them by providing detailed maps of the temple's ventilation and water channels—infrastructure known only to the Head Chef and the Head of Cleaning.
IV. The Opening Ceremony
The tenth day arrived. The sky above Shaolin Temple was bright, but the air felt thick and heavy.
On the main martial arts field, tens of thousands of people—martial artists from hundreds of sects, noble families, and even imperial envoys—had gathered. The grand ceremony stage had been prepared.
Across the field, near the kitchen, Zhao Huo oversaw his assistant monks serving the opening vegetarian appetizer he had carefully prepared: Five-Flavor Tofu—a dish that united the five main flavors (salty, sweet, bitter, sour, spicy) in one bite, symbolizing the unification of the five great sects.
In the center of the Field, separated by the path of honor, the young martial artists who would participate in the tournament stood tall, radiating a simmering aura of competition. Zhao Huo observed several faces:
Mei Lin (Emei) and Feng Yu (Wudang) stood at the front line of their retinues, their calmness contrasting with the obvious ambition on Liu Zhen's (Wudang) face.
In the Mount Hua ranks stood Bai He, a youth famous for his light yet deadly sword technique.
The Tang Family Heir, Tang Bo, looked calm in a disguised robe, his eyes as sharp as a dagger, quickly scanning the surroundings.
In the Kaypang ranks stood Tan Long (not the Grand Leader, but a young commander), who, despite his ragged clothes, possessed an impressive aura.
Exactly at the Wu hour (11:00 AM – 1:00 PM), accompanied by the booming of war drums from the towers, all the senior representatives ascended the main stage.
On the podium of honor, eight golden chairs were now filled:
Abbot Xuan Ye (Shaolin, The Host).
Sect Leader Wu Tian (Wudang, holding the Green Jade Destiny Sword).
Sect Leader Abbess Jing Hua (Emei, standing gracefully).
Grand Leader Master Hong (Kaypang, accompanied by the Green Jade Staff).
Sect Leader Yue (Mount Hua, with the Green Jade Plum Blossom displayed on the side of his podium).
Tang Family Head, Tang Feng (Standing beside Xuan Ye, invited as a 'security advisor').
Murong Family Head, Murong Yuan (Sitting calmly, his face showing no emotion).
Namgung Family Head, Namgung Woon (A respected Swordsman Family).
Dongfang Family Head, Dongfang Lian (The Northern Power Family).
Total silence enveloped the tens of thousands of people.
Xuan Ye, despite carrying an immense burden, exuded an aura of supreme calmness; the Zen he had trained for decades was now his shield. He delivered a brief speech about unity, honor, and the importance of the Murim Alliance.
Then, came the climax.
With a slow and meaningful gesture, Xuan Ye reached out to the top of the ceremonial table made of golden Nanmu wood. Upon it, the Green Jade Ruyi was supposed to rest.
Xuan Ye took the Jade Artifact in his hand—which was now Murong Yuan's perfect replica—and lifted it high into the air, allowing the midday sun to reflect off the surface of the pure green jade.
Thousands of pairs of eyes, including Mei Lin's sharp gaze and Feng Yu's vigilant eyes, were focused on the Jade Artifact.
The artifact looked perfect. No one knew that Shaolin's Great Jade Artifact was merely a lie saved by a master carver.
Xuan Ye placed the Jade Artifact on the white jade pedestal.
BOOOOMMM!
Shaolin's great bronze bell was struck three times, signaling the commencement of the Murim Alliance Friendship Tournament. The curtain had opened, and the battles, both in the arena and in the shadows, had now begun.