41-46

Chapter 41: Talent

Lei blinked at the complex machinery hanging from the roof of the hall. It was a mess of metallic parts and glowing spheres, kept in place by a thick rope that ran through holes inside the parts. Nailed to the roof, the structure swayed lazily. It was almost the size of a grown man. Right below, Lei could see two translucent spheres, hollowed out from the inside. They looked like handles.

"What is this?" Lei asked.

"A Minor Measurement Tool," Zhu Luli said, stepping beside him. She watched with interest as the old man loosened the rope to allow the kids to reach up to it. "One of Emperor Xia's creations. This one is probably linked by a formation to a Greater Measurement Tool in Lanzhou."

"We meet again, old friend," Fatty Lou said from behind them, a hint of apprehension on his face. He had joined them not long after they were allowed inside the hall. He'd ordered the dummies and said they would be ready tomorrow. Sweat dotted his face. He'd run all the way down here just to get in time. "Different times and a different me, but it still hurts."

Lei tried to search his soul-brother's memories to see if he'd come across this thing before. His neck tightened, as if a part of the original Lei Liang still lingered inside his mind. Painful indeed to see the disappointment on his father's face. His mother's gasp. His little sister's incredulous eyes.

None of these are mine.

It still hurt, but Lei pushed through it. He gave a smile to Little Ji when the child stared up at him, confused.

Peering around him, Lei saw nothing but that machinery in the room, save for a table that had a quill and some ink over it. Not even a chair for the old man to relax, which seemed odd as he was clearly favoring his left leg. Government work had a knack for stealing one's soul. It seemed no different here.

"Here," the old man said, gesturing for Little Zhao to come closer. The boy raised one clenched fist, looking at it. He turned back and glanced at Lei before making his way toward the Minor Measurement Tool.

He was the same age as Little Ji, and they shared a room with two others. A silent type, except when Lei decided to cook eggs for breakfast. He always had more room than others for the sunny-side ups.

"I'll cook you three eggs tomorrow," Lei muttered, winking at him. With that, Little Zhao straightened his back. Following the old man's example, he grasped the two hollowed spheres, holding them tight.

"Three breaths," the old man said, reaching upward and pushing a button on one of the spheres. He stepped back and waited, the room going silent.

Lei felt a strange pressure around his chest. A whole fate decided by one's birth. Hardly a fair thing, but then things were hardly fair at all in this world. Whether you became a cultivator or not depended solely on the spiritual roots hidden deep in your core. A hundred of them can make for a genius. Ten of them, and you're bound to start searching for a different route.

It was an odd thing indeed. Lei wondered if there was any sense behind it, or if it was any different than being born into more favorable circumstances. Being born rich—was it any different than being blessed with a hundred spiritual roots?

It is. There are things you can't buy with money here. Things way more important than mere riches.

At least that was what cultivators always seemed to say. Reach for immortality, stand tall atop a peak looking down at the mortals. Strange that they were too blind to see that this tradition was the bane of their existence. But he guessed there must be some truth in it.

The spheres glowed. It was dim at first, like the first lights cleaving through dark clouds. One by one, they glistened, sending streaks of light around the hall. Lei shaded his eyes with one hand, staring between his fingers to get a clear look. Zhu Luli stood with her hands clasped behind her back. She wasn't bothered by the bright light.

"A hundred spheres," she said, nodding toward the machinery. "My father told me that before this tool, they used one's blood to measure one's talent. A single drop on a moonrock. The number of veins would give the result."

"That sounds more practical," Lei said, pulling Little Ji closer to him. "Why bother with all this when you can use a simple rock?"

Zhu Luli shook her head. "These tools form an intricate web that stretches all the way to the capital. It doesn't measure one's talent alone; it also records it with one's own spiritual signature. That's why they take people's names. How else would you think you get the cultivator license?"

Lei shrugged. "Then what? Do they have any use for this cultivator license?" He almost seemed to remember that this license acted as an ID card.

"You're really a country bumpkin," Zhu Luli chuckled. "In most cities, the chief of guards carries an identification device that can see through a cultivator's spiritual signature. There's also a Greater Monitor Formation in the capital or some other cities, though cultivator clans don't like them. They say it makes things… a tad harder for them."

"Can't go around killing people and act like nothing happened, you're saying," Fatty Lou chimed in. "Though, I don't seem to remember Lanzhou as a little paradise. You could almost taste blood in that place."

"It's not for protection alone," Zhu Luli said with a shake of her head. "A cultivator's license is an essential tool for any cultivator. Alchemists' Guild, Adventurers' Guild, or even the Spiritfolding Guild—you can get resources through your achievements. Emperor Xia likened it to the Merit Tokens used in most sects, except this one works in the whole Empire."

"So you become a disciple of the Empire, is that it?" Lei found it odd and reasonable at the same time. You have to give something to the crowds if you want to keep them away from sects.

"Sort of, yes," Zhu Luli said, pulling out a bronze badge from her robe. "See this? This is a Bronze Badge from the Adventurers' Guild. It is the basic one, so it has no benefits. I don't actually have to carry this thing with me, as it's bound to my cultivator's license, but I've decided to take it because most guild branches in mortal cities don't have identification tools."

Lei and Fatty Lou shared a glance.

At one point, we'll have to get our own licenses.

Lei then spoke with doubt, "Do we have to get a badge if we wish to take missions from the guild?"

"You don't," Zhu Luli said. "Anyone can take basic missions without a badge. But a badge allows you to build merit, with which you can buy things like cultivation resources and martial arts."

The lights grew dimmer. Lei lowered his hand and stared up at the spheres. Dozens of them still had light glistening in them, but the old man gestured for Little Zhao to step back. He pulled out a notebook and dabbed his quill in ink before taking note. When he turned toward Lei's group, there was a little smile on his lips.

"Fifty-seven spiritual roots," he said, glancing at Lei. "A talented young man. In good hands, he can become an eagle in the eastern skies. You must be proud to have such a good son. I recommend you sign him up for the next Annual Selection Ceremony. He has a good shot at making it into one of those sects."

Lei was about to say something when Zhu Luli gave him a look. With that, Lei nodded amicably, taking Little Zhao in his arms. "Thanks, I'll look into it."

The old man sighed. He gestured for other kids and repeated the process. Spheres glowed, the machine grinding as Lei's group stood watching. The old man clicked his tongue in awe whenever he saw more than fifty spheres glow in the dark. Supposedly, that marked the average talent in cultivation. Passing the fifty-mark in spiritual roots made you a respectable talent.

It was good that they hadn't brought Snake, Stone, and Little Mei here. Lei guessed they would've had a hard time keeping their talents hidden, especially after seeing the reaction of the old man when Little Meng triggered over seventy spheres. Seventy-six, to be exact, and the old man praised the little girl as a potential genius, even going as far as to slap his knee.

Lei kept a gentle front against him. He also kept away from making promises and tried to praise every kid no matter their results. In his eyes, the number of spiritual roots was meaningless. Genius or not, he would never discriminate between his close group, knowing everyone would find their own strength.

Little Jiao was one of them. The little girl was devastated when only ten spheres glowed in her test. Others tried to console her, but she sobbed silently in Lei's arms, calling herself a failure over and over again.

"You're too beautiful to let those tears stain your face," Lei told her, caressing her soft, brown hair with gentle care, but her wells wouldn't dry no matter what he did.

It pained Lei. The kid didn't even know what a real cultivator was or if she really wanted to become one. She just cried as if they'd taken an important part from her.

"Alright now," Lei said, leaning closer to her and wiping her tears before taking her face in his hands. "Tell me, what do you want?"

"I-I," she sputtered, sniffing as tears streamed down her face. "I-I don't want to be left behind."

Lei scowled at her in the manner of an older brother. "And what makes you think you'll be left behind?"

Little Jiao turned, raising a trembling finger to the other kids. "T-They will leave me, Big Brother Lei. I'll be alone once again."

"But I'm here, aren't I?" Lei said, smiling softly at her. "And they are your brothers and sisters. Their strength is your strength. Their success is your success. We don't keep score here, Little Jiao. We're all a big family."

She looked at him with teary eyes, and Lei saw in them the cold fear. Left behind. Powerless. It reminded him of the night their parents were killed, butchered right before their eyes. Lei tried to be there for them, but he should've known a month or two wouldn't be enough to get rid of that gaping hole in their hearts.

"You know what, I think I have an idea," Lei said a moment after, which made Little Jiao blink at him. "You've told me you'd liked to cook with your mother, right? It just so happens that I need some serious help for my stall. I want to open a restaurant, and I could use a new cook."

"B-But I don't know how to cook dishes like you," said Little Jiao, her lips pressed into a thin line. But Lei could see a faint glimmer in those big, brown eyes.

He waved a hand at her, as if it were nothing big. "You can learn in no time. And you know what?" he said, leaning closer, cupping one hand over her ear as he whispered. "I can teach you how to make candies. Good ones, better than the ones you eat in the market."

A gasp. Little Jiao clamped her mouth shut with two hands, staring at him in shock. She then asked, "Promise?"

Lei nodded with a smile as he reached out with his pinky finger. "A pinky promise."

They locked their fingers and smiled, and Lei caressed her soft hair before taking a step back. The old man gestured for Little Ji, the last in line, to come forth.

Lei raised a fist at him. "You've got this!"

Little Ji didn't seem that confident as he clutched the spheres. His fingers shook. He kept glancing back at Lei, as if expecting some sort of help. Lei could only smile at him. Smile and wait. Being talentless wasn't a crime.

Of the nine kids, four had above-average talents. Zhu Luli said that Little Meng, with her seventy-six roots, could easily choose a martial sect and get accepted. The Empire's academies would welcome her with open arms. She had the potential to become something other than a mortal.

But she had just that—a potential. She wasn't a genius with over ninety spiritual roots. Those were the ones the sects and academies fought for. Plotted, even, as kidnapping a talented child wasn't an unheard-of practice. But they didn't always show their hands. They promised resources and riches—not just to the kid, but to their family or clan. That was usually enough to seal their lips.

Not that different from just snatching the kid from their family.

They basically sold their kids off to grand organizations. And it wasn't like the kid would be in better hands if born into a rich, established clan of cultivators. That was the great dilemma. Which one would you choose? Zhu Luli seemed to loathe her clan with a passion.

The spheres glowed. That was how the process always started. A glimmer of light in the lower spheres, then it slowly spread up to the others. They formed a twisted ring shape, the spheres did, almost looking like a full circle.

Seconds passed. Drops of sweat trickled down Little Ji's brows. He was grinding his teeth, clutching the spheres with all his might. Lei almost lauded the effort, but that thought somehow made him feel hollow inside. What should he do? Praise them for being talented? Was that something to be glad for?

He glanced down at Little Jiao. She was happily chatting with Fatty Lou, her back to the Minor Measurement Tool. The other three who had below fifty spiritual roots lingered around them, eyes on their feet. They seemed ashamed that they didn't have any talent.

I have to do something about this.

Lei shook his head. He'd been trying to become someone they could count on, but time and time again, he found himself staring into a blank wall, hesitant. The part of him that belonged to Earth didn't always have the right answers. The other part of him that lived here, as a different man, was no different than these children. He knew so little that he couldn't even dare to think about a future.

"You can let go," came the old man's voice, rasping. He turned toward Lei and sighed, "Sixteen spiritual roots. This one doesn't have a bright future."

Lei felt a heavy weight settle on his shoulders. He waited, but Little Ji refused to step back, still holding onto those spheres. Lei glanced upward, scowling at the lights, muttering to himself.

Burn. Glow. Do something.

The kid didn't let go. Lei had to drag him away from the machine. He pulled him closer and held him by the right shoulder. They thanked the old man and filed out of the hall. Little Meng sang cheerily up at the front, hopping like a bunny. Little Jiao was grinning wide as Fatty Lou poked her playfully. The others were in a line under the strict gaze of Zhu Luli.

"How do you feel?" Lei asked, Little Ji tightening under his hand. "You can talk to me."

Little Ji stared up at him, jaw set tight. "Nothing's changed, Big Brother Lei. I will become a cultivator. I will become someone strong."

Lei clapped him on the back, smiling. "You will, Little Ji. I'll make sure of it."

Chapter 42: Cultivation Session

"Breathe in and out," Zhu Luli said, her hands clasped behind her back. A dozen children circled around her, sitting cross-legged against the five wooden dummies. Their eyes were closed, chests rising softly with each breath. It was important to keep the rhythm, to relax, and ease your mind into focus.

It reminded her of her first lesson on cultivation. She was five years old back then, a mere child pouting because her father had taken her toys away. Theirs was a grand backyard, bamboo trees towering high around a man-made pool. You could always find the fish in the same place, almost caught in a lazy cadence, swirling around one another. Poke them with a stick, throw them a rock, they wouldn't notice.

Here, all Zhu Luli had was a backyard of ruins. Broken stones lay scattered across the ground, half-toppled buildings blending into a grayish mess. She had slept out in the woods for the last few months, and even that was better than staying in this haunted place.

Yet, they needed a clear space away from curious eyes. So they were using Brother Lei's old place as a training ground.

Father would've laughed. A mere Body Tempering Stage cultivator acting like a seasoned instructor.

But she made a promise, and she had all good reasons for keeping it. Spiritual food. Such a silly thing when you thought about it. Dozens of men claimed their food was this miraculous drug that could help cultivators ascend into higher stages. Spirit Chefs were lauded when their food gave the cultivators a sense of power. The Alchemists sneered at them. To them, these people were nothing more than pitiful folk, fools too talentless for the grand path of alchemy. They had taken a different route and were now trying to paint it as an alternative to elixirs and pills. Meaningless. So what do you do when you come across a real Spirit Chef?

You do what you can. That's the answer.

Zhu Luli had thought of reaching out to her father. That would be the wisest thing to do. The Zhu Clan was one of the Seven Illustrious Clans of the Empire, a hegemon that ruled two cities. They had the means to protect Brother Lei and supply him with thousands of spiritual ingredients.

In return, they would see to it that they got their return on investment. Brother Lei would be cooking his dishes without a break. He would be ordered around, treated as this golden, sparkling gem. He wouldn't be seen as a man. He would be a resource to be protected and used for the clan's greater good.

So Zhu Luli kept the news to herself. It was selfish, but she could tell that neither Brother Lei nor Brother Lou knew what the cultivator clans were capable of. Once you've stepped into that dark well, there wouldn't be any going back. You would be stuck there forever.

"Breathe in and out," Zhu Luli said, pacing around the circle of children, Brother Lou and Brother Lei watching her with curious eyes from the back. Emperor Xia wrote, It always seems impossible until it's done. She was counting on those words being true. If they were, she could make something out of these children. They lacked the resources and the backing, but they had something no other clans had.

She glanced at Brother Lei. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered. His face had gentle creases around the forehead, eyes half-closed in thought. He seemed to be thinking more these last few days. There was something about him that felt strange to Zhu Luli. He was different. An oddity among the mortals she had ever met.

Her father had always told her that mortals were no different than cultivators. Hunting for resources, fighting for all the scraps and possibilities—they just did it without all the grandeur. "Give them a sword," he'd say, "and they'd slay any man if it would somehow be of any use to them." And whenever they came across a bigger fish, they always cowed.

Just like the cultivators.

There shouldn't have been any slaves left in this world, and yet whenever Zhu Clan's Young Miss decided to go out for a stroll, it had seemed to her that everyone would become one.

But Brother Lei was different. This place was different. There was an innate kindness about him. Not the kind she had seen in the faces of others. She had lived all her life facing that same expression: a little smile around the lips, a deferential stoop to the back, eyes always staring somewhere between her feet and her knees. Behind their eyes, Zhu Luli could always feel the envy. A dark thing. It made a habit of clouding every man's heart. No wonder why her father kept saying it was one of the greater demons.

Strangely, Brother Lei's eyes lacked that veil of shade. He seemed to be looking straight into her soul, seeing her as she was. Granted, there had been a hint of apprehension in his gaze when she handled one of those Sabertongues, but now, before him, she felt no different than how she'd feel in a forest.

And he cared. How could a man care for a bunch of orphans? She felt ashamed that she couldn't understand it. She liked the kids. Some of them were talented. Snake and Stone could ascend higher given the opportunity. Little Mei seemed to have a natural talent for spiritual beasts. She was rough with Little Yao, but the squirrel seemed to be drawn to her, constantly sleeping over her shoulder.

A Beastmaster? Perhaps. We will see.

You never fought with a Beastmaster alone. They were feared for a good reason and were in great demand. From spiritual ferries to the sewages, their use in everyday life went without saying. But it was their hordes that made them dangerous. She had read once about a Nascent Soul Beastmaster who could control thousands of Drakeflies. They devoured flesh and bones in the blink of an eye and had thick chitin surrounding their little bodies that made them impervious to the elements.

Zhu Luli shook her head. If Little Mei had the calling of a Beastmaster in her heart, then she would have to be trained under an established master. Zhu Luli knew little about their arts.

Eastern Dawn Academy has a Nascent Soul Beastmaster, but it's too early to think about that for now.

She then glanced down at Stone, who seemed as serene as a calm lake. He was so pure, so gentle, yet decisive. Zhu Luli had thought about it and decided weapons wouldn't be a good fit for him. A sword couldn't contain his strength, and he wasn't flexible enough to use a spear. She could train him for it, but it would be just a waste of talent.

Steelskin, or the Mountainrock Arts.

They both had their advantages, but she was favoring Steelskin over the other for one good reason—it would align with Stone's demeanor. Like a tail, he always seemed to follow Snake wherever he went, and would keep his silence when his Big Brother spoke. Steelskin could instill the confidence needed to take initiative, as unlike Mountainrock Arts, it was a Body Forging Manual.

It will be harder for you to cultivate Steelskin than a Qi Refining Manual, but you can do it.

Snake scowled when Zhu Luli's gaze settled on him, as if he was aware she was looking at him. The boy had an innate gift of perception. He was probably too bold for his own good, but if he could get that under control and learn how to be more discreet in his actions, then he could become a dangerous threat to his foes in the future.

But his overprotective side could become a problem if left unattended. Zhu Luli found herself baffled by this problem for days now, as being overprotective of others wasn't a trait common in academies and sects. There were always the bold, courageous ones trying to best their foes, but few did it to protect their companions.

Zhu Luli could see it in how Snake treated his brothers and sisters. He cared for them, just like Brother Lei, but he did it like the animal he had taken his name after. He would be silent, always watching, always keeping an eye on them to see if they'd falter. And when they did, even in a simple matter as slipping on solid ground, he would dash to their help and reprimand them for being too careless.

This obsession could become fatal in a heated fight. The second his eyes fell on his companions, he could miss the next blow aimed at his heart. The silver lining in that was that, if trained, Snake would become a good team leader.

He was born to lead. I can feel it just by looking at him. I can teach him the Node Fingers.

He could also make use of a pair of daggers, but they might interfere with his natural talent. You can only turn a weapon into an extension of your own limb after years of training. Using your own body parts as weapons, though, was ultimately superior in the long run. Zhu Luli was close to turning her fingers into Earth-tier spiritual tools. There were also thousands of Martial Arts to make up for a lack of weapons, but you could only use them after the Qi Condensation Stage.

She sighed out a long breath, keeping her rhythm with the others as a force of habit. The Tranquilizing Meditation Art she'd taught the kids was an Earth-tier Art that didn't have any soul-brand preventing her from teaching it to others. For the other arts, though, she would have to send a Wordcrow to her aunt Zhu Meirong.

Let's hope she won't ask too many questions.

If she did, Zhu Luli didn't know how to explain her circumstances. Stuck in a mortal city, with a Heavenly Spirit Chef and a dozen children who depended on him, wouldn't get her the preferred results. She would have to come up with a different excuse.

These are not tightly kept secrets, though. I think it'll be fine.

These Cultivation Manuals were mostly commonly available manuals. Disciples could get these in nearly all the sects and academies. The Thousand Node Fingers, though, was one of the Zhu Clan's highly regarded secret manuals, and for that, Zhu Luli would need to get permission from the clan.

"I can see the dark clouds over your head," came Brother Lou's voice, making Zhu Luli glance at him. "You really look like an instructor. Are you sure you haven't done it in the past?"

Zhu Luli shook her head. "I was just thinking about the manuals. There's a lot of talent here, and I'm not sure I can do justice to all of them."

"I feared this would be the case," Brother Lei said, scowling deeply at the kids. "We might have to start considering sending these kids to academies."

"I'm not so sure about that," Zhu Luli said. "While it is true our Empire has renowned academies, it is pointless to think about these things before the Qi Condensation Stage. First, we need to cover the basics."

"And you know all these basics?" Brother Lei asked doubtfully.

Zhu Luli sighed. "I can't claim to be a master of these topics, especially one that can teach a dozen kids, but I can safely say that we don't have to rush anything. With the manuals I'll prepare, they won't have to think about anything before the Qi Condensation Stage."

"Then what?" Brother Lou asked.

"Then they can search for their own fortunes," Zhu Luli said matter-of-factly. "In most cultivation clans, the children would often learn these basics before they were sent to sects and academies. You can't nurture them in the safety of their homes."

"But why?" Brother Lou asked, scowling. "Wouldn't a safe environment be more lucrative?"

"Competition is what kindles the fire within one's self," Zhu Luli recited her Father's words. "Without one's peers, one cannot hope to learn and test one's limits. It is the nature of rivalry, Brother Lou, that pushes the cultivators toward greatness. It is a race, and to win, you must be the one holding the skies at the end."

And that race starts with one's birth.

Zhu Luli kept those words to herself. There was another reason why these clans sent their kids off to sects and academies. Face. Reputation. These were as vital to the clans as the blood running under one's skin. Fame brought more than just attention to a clan. It made them known, feared even, on the grand stage of cultivation.

To see the look of dread on their faces, to make them shake in your presence. Your blood is a flag to be carried and planted atop the highest mountain.

She was letting the old teachings get to her head. Here, it was different. They were a different bunch. She wasn't training a group of chosen to become the next bearers of the flag.

The dummies glistened under the sunlight. They were nailed deep into the ground for balance. Zhu Luli placed a hand over one of them, feeling the hard wood under her fingers. Darkloom Trees. They had a natural toughness about them, which was odd because, past a certain age, they started crumbling as if they couldn't withstand time itself. But most trees only grew stronger with the passing of time.

"Had to fetch a dozen men to carry these things here," Brother Lou said. "They weren't cheap."

Zhu Luli nodded. She needed these dummies sturdy enough to take a punch from her. One reason for that was the eventual strain the wood would have to bear, and the other was for the possibility of the kids climbing faster than she thought. There was always the oddity among talented people.

"Shall we start?" she asked, glancing back at the pair of them. "You said you wanted to test your strength. You've seen the kids do it, now it's your turn. I'll be the judge."

"You want us to punch these things?" Brother Lei asked, walking forward and feeling the wood with his hand. "What if they break? We paid good money for these things."

Zhu Luli smiled at him. "Even I couldn't break one of these. Not with a single jab, at least."

"But how can you tell our strength by a single jab?" Brother Lou asked, confused as he stared at Brother Lei. "We were still around fifteen minor circles the last time we tried to cultivate."

"Strength and the ability to cultivate are two different things," Zhu Luli said, raising one hand. "Nine minor circles are considered to be a full circle. Nine full circles mean that you're at the boundary of the Body Tempering Stage, yet it is possible that a 7th Step Body Tempering Stage cultivator can best a 9th Step Body Tempering Stage cultivator. But how?

"Because while the circles give you strength, a cultivator is more than just the number of spiritual energy circles they can maintain. Experience. Encounters. Training. These are just as important as spiritual energy. Or a hermit who spends their time cultivating behind closed doors would've claimed these lands long ago, yet they still remain in the hands of adventurers."

"So a Body Tempering Stage cultivator can beat the hell out of a Qi Condensation Stage cultivator if he has the experience, is that so?" Brother Lou asked.

"Possible, but not quite likely," Zhu Luli said, shaking her head. "The difference between the stages is more substantial than the one between the steps. A Qi Condensation Stage expert can command and utilize the spiritual essence of the world. Against a Body Tempering Stage cultivator, it would be like quenching a campfire with mountainous waves."

"That's where talent shines," Brother Lei said, sighing as he rolled up his sleeves. "I'll have to come up with a dish that can grow those spiritual roots, or else we'll be stuck at the Body Tempering Stage forever."

Zhu Luli wasn't so sure of that. "There are pills that allow you to sense the Qi around you, doing what spiritual roots do for a cultivator. Perhaps you can make a dish that does the same."

"We'll see about that," Brother Lei said, and then nodded toward her. "I'll start."

He stepped back, raising his right hand. His fingers crackled when he clenched his fist. Sunlight fell on the side of his face, illuminating a pair of hawkish eyes fixed on the wooden dummy. The contemplation was gone, replaced by a sudden determination that chilled Zhu Luli for no apparent reason. She seemed to see a faint glimmer of light between his fingers as he stepped past her, lunging forward.

His right jab crashed into the wood, his robe flapping in the wind. It splintered, parts of it flying across the ground, like little awns drilling small holes in the soil. The greater part of the dummy stood strong, but it was cracked where Brother Lei's punch had landed—a web of cracks lining the polished wood.

Zhu Luli blinked.

Chapter 43: Difference

 Lei stepped back, his fingers stinging dully from the impact. He shook off the splinters of wood stuck around his knuckles. It hurt, but it just felt right to get that out of his chest. There was something about the sound of fingers plunging into solid wood. He was about to glance back to see if Zhu Luli had anything to say when a shadow flashed past him, teeth grinding as another punch fell on the dummy next to him. The wood groaned loudly. Splinters splashed across the side of his face. It took a moment for Fatty Lou to step back and regard the result of his effort. There was a little smile on his face, as if he was expecting it.

"Huh," he muttered, looking at Lei's dummy. "A few inches. You've nearly crushed the damned thing."

"Your web looks weak," Lei said, smiling down at Fatty Lou's hand. "And you somehow managed to nick your finger. Even I know how to punch a still target, Brother Lou. I say you have much to learn from our dear instructor here."

They both turned to find a spellbound Zhu Luli staring at them, her mouth slightly open. She seemed to be trying to blink herself awake, but her eyes remained fixed on the dummies.

"Keep breathing," she said to the group of children staring curiously at them, then cleared her throat and glanced at Lei. "We didn't bring many spiritual ingredients with us, did we? Or was there an Earth-tier weed that I didn't know about? Brother Lei, surely you would've shared a dish like that with the rest of us, wouldn't you?"

Lei raised an eyebrow at her. "You've told us we'll eat after the morning session. Why are you asking this?"

"Because, well — wait a second," Zhu Luli said, turning toward the dummies. Then she snapped her fingers. "Of course. That must be the reason. Can you two step back? I want to try it myself."

She backed off, the fingers of her right hand clenched tight. She eyed the third dummy to the side, scowling at it as if it were a great foe. Her eyes seemed to sway toward the other two damaged dummies for a second before she raised her chin. Her dash was a great one, her lithe figure almost darting through the air like an arrow before her fist crashed into the dummy.

It snapped and groaned, and the tail of the dummy, which was deep in the ground, almost broke off as the structure bent strangely. Yet it remained standing, though Zhu Luli's jab had left a great impression on the wood. The edges sailed high in the air, and Lei could see each of the marks her knuckles left on the surface. When she backed off, the wood started coming off from those parts.

"How?" she muttered, eyes on her feet. She paced around them for a while, as Lei and Fatty Lou stood awkwardly to the side. Their blows were certainly not half-bad, but there was a natural grace to how Zhu Luli crushed that wood. Lei thought it was beautiful, but not in a sick way. Like a show.

Yes. A great performance in comparison to our brutish efforts.

"Okay, good, well," Zhu Luli said, pointing a finger at the pair of them. "We already knew you were stronger than 1st Step Body Tempering Stage cultivators. But to create a web in the wood, you must be at least at the 4th or even 5th Step. You see why I'm surprised? This shouldn't be possible."

"Strength and ability to cultivate are two different things," Lei said. "You've said these words."

Zhu Luli raised a hand toward him. "I did, and they were true, but in your case, the difference between what you've shown and what you really are is rather steep. Are you sure you couldn't maintain two or three full circles? Or maybe four?"

Lei lowered his chin. The last time he tried to cultivate, the other night when they got back from the Measurement Hall, he managed to force himself up to sixteen minor circles. This was with the help of the gnarled fries and spiritual burgers he cooked for dinner. They were Low-Quality, but they were enough to supply spiritual energy, and they also didn't get them high.

"Sixteen for me," he said.

"Yeah, around the same," Fatty Lou muttered.

"You're close to reaching the 2nd Step of Body Tempering Stage," Zhu Luli said, glancing back at Snake, Stone, and Little Mei.

Those three had broken through the 2nd Step the other night, and Lei had seen Zhu Luli test those kids against the dummies. Other than Stone, the others barely left any dent in them.

"Sit down and relax," Zhu Luli said a moment after, her gaze demanding complete obedience. "Try to adjust your breaths. I need time to think about this."

Lei nodded, taking his place near Little Jiao. Even though the little girl seemed earnest in learning cultivation, she had already begun asking questions about Lei's dishes. That was a good sign. The other night she kept her nose near the wok as Lei cooked the fries. He told her about the oil, about the plants, about the way a cook should care for their knife.

She is coming along. She'll make a good cook.

What worried him was another face in the circle, sitting right across from him. Little Ji had that stubborn scowl on his face, just like the one Snake had a few weeks prior. Lei could see the boy pushing himself. His cheeks were flushed, and he was nearly out of breath.

The Body Tempering Stage was just the start. According to Zhu Luli, most chosen of the cultivation clans would prepare their foundation and step into the Qi Condensation Stage when they passed the age of 20. Granted, they had the talent for it. Meanwhile, people like Little Ji and Lei would either have to come across a fortuitous encounter, or a miracle, to become Qi Condensation Stage experts.

I'll make it happen. I'll learn alchemy if it comes to that. Nothing is impossible in this world.

Lei nodded to himself. That was the reason why they brought everybody to this cultivation session. Zhu Luli wanted them prepared. It was also important for them to learn how to guide spiritual energy, as it was already a miracle the kids hadn't hurt themselves with Lei's dishes.

Why did we get high when none of these kids showed any reaction?

That was another question he lacked the answers to. Even Zhu Luli said how potent the spiritual energy in his dishes had been. It made her literally fly, and Little Yao the squirrel was no different. Why, then, wasn't it the case with the kids?

She said it could be about the difference in our ages. Their bodies are cleaner, closer to perfection than ours.

Lei doubted it would be something simple like that. The mana. He knew that was somehow the key to his answer. The other day, right after he cultivated, he tried to sense it for the first time. He saw it in his mind's eye, a ball of swirling blue. It was senseless. It just stayed there, lingering around his meridians. When he woke up, it was gone.

If there's a method to cultivation, the same should be the case with mana. I wonder if this tier upgrade will change anything?

Eyes closed, Lei couldn't help but frown at the question. He had his own assumptions about the difference between tiers of the system and that of this world. Most spiritual beasts in this world were no different from cultivators when it came to the tier system. A Sabertongue could become a Qi Condensation beast, for example.

The plants, though, were different. Their tier system was divided into stages such as Mortal and Earth, just like the System. Those also aligned with the general cultivation system, so a Low-Quality Mortal-tier plant could be considered somewhere between the 1st and 3rd Steps of the Body Tempering Stage.

By that logic, Lei had to find an Earth-tier, or Qi Condensation Stage, plant or spiritual beast to cook an Earth-tier dish.

It won't be easy.

He breathed in deep, trying to clear his mind. The Tranquilizing Meditation Art was simple yet effective. It used the twelve principal meridians inside the body, guiding spiritual energy through them. At first, Lei was unaware of the importance of meditation arts. The spiritual energy he gained through his dishes always seemed to find its way naturally.

Later, he learned from Zhu Luli why they were so crucial. Spiritual energy needed a guide to loosen the nodes at the ends of these twelve principal meridians. It was essentially prep work. Beyond these twelve nodes were the eight extraordinary meridians, which acted as little storage units. It was through these units that Qi Condensation Stage experts utilized spiritual energy without needing to absorb it from the air during a battle.

They also had another function. Depending on one's essence, these storage units would align with certain elements over time. If you had an innate closeness to the element of fire, for example, you could use Fire Qi to nurture a Fire-Attuned Extraordinary Meridian in your body, which would turn into a natural fire reserve with enough effort. After a certain point, you could convert normal, unattuned Qi to Fire Qi using this storage.

Too complicated. It's almost like everything changes when you become a Qi Condensation Stage expert. You become a real cultivator, shedding your mortal skin.

But Lei had a certain interest, especially in those Extraordinary Meridians. According to Zhu Luli, most alchemists nurtured the Alchemist's Fire in one of those meridians. He could also do the same in the future, creating a fire of his own, which he could use to cook his dishes.

That's why, before the Qi Condensation Stage, you wouldn't be considered a real alchemist.

If, in the future, he had the opportunity, he wouldn't mind asking a few questions to those illustrious alchemists—and to that one real Spirit Chef Zhu Luli mentioned who was working around the capital.

Perhaps he has a system like me. Who knows?

Lei breathed in and out, trying to focus on the ambient Qi around him, to take in the spiritual energy with each of his breaths. He could feel it was there, a soft blanket around his shoulders, weightless and pure. Whenever he tried to suck it in, though, it acted as if Lei wasn't there.

At least he was making progress. In the past, he couldn't even feel it in the air. In some ways, this was more frustrating, as he knew it was there but couldn't reach for it. Yet it was certainly better than being blind to the spiritual side of this world.

"Open your eyes," Zhu Luli said, clapping her hands. "It was a good session. Snake, Stone, and Little Mei, you three did well. I could feel the energy around you. Try to be gentle with it."

She turned toward Little Meng and the other talented kids. "Spiritual energy is a different substance. It is not water that you can drink. By habit, you're trying to suck it in through your mouths, but you have to use your body. Your whole body is a vessel, your pores little straws through which you absorb the spiritual essence of the world. Think on it."

Lastly, she looked at Lei's group. Fatty Lou was already grumbling, which summarized their session quite well. Little Ji seemed nervous, glancing toward Snake's group with apparent envy. Lei sighed in relief when he saw Little Jiao and the others smiling at each other.

My restaurant staff is shaping up.

"It won't be easy," Zhu Luli said to them, her face strict. "What you're doing is akin to trying to hold air itself with your bare hands. Just know that the spiritual energy is there, everywhere around us. I want you to focus on that. Rather than forcing yourselves to absorb it, just try to sense it. Be aware of it. Make your presence known to the world around you."

"It doesn't work," Little Ji said, eyes downcast. "There's nothing there. Just air."

Zhu Luli shook her head when Lei gave her a hesitant look. She then stepped closer to Little Ji and raised her right index finger. "Watch," she said.

Pebbles rolled lazily on the ground, the dummies standing still. Just when it seemed nothing would happen, Zhu Luli's index finger began shimmering with a metallic glint. She turned, chin held high, and bolted forward like a gust of wind. She jabbed her finger into one of the dummies, a new one without any damage. Her finger drilled right into the wood, passing through it with barely any resistance. When she pulled her finger back, there was a hole in the dummy.

"See?" she said, pointing at the wood. Other than that finger-sized hole, there was not a single crack on the dummy. Her force was controlled into a single point. Lei shivered when he thought of what a finger like that would do to a human's body. "Even if you can't see or feel it, it is there. You just have to believe it."

Little Ji nodded, his eyes flashing with an eager glint. He seemed to be longing for the day he would become a great cultivator. Around him, most of the kids had the same look.

Lei shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. Even he had to admit that cultivators were damned cool.

Chapter 44: The Old Couple

 Days passed. That's what happens when you have a lot on your plate. Time just flies by while you're busy trying to make the best of it. Lei was no different. He barely had any time to scratch his head. Everything was changing, and he doubted whether the new winds would bring anything good with them.

Fatty Lou was working hard to poke his nose into the Governor's Office, but his progress had been slow. His attempts to peer into their schemes brought little result. To him, there was no difference between this lot and those rotten bastards. A different kind of rot, but rot all the same. Lei was hardly surprised.

A lavish caravan had been seen off three days ago, carried by colorful creatures the size of houses—powerful spiritual beasts. The kind you wouldn't expect to see in a place like Jiangzhen. Under the bright sun, dozens of people, all clad in the Governor's Office's brown robes, stood in muted respect as the beasts took off, their wings spanning wide. The Governor himself was at the front of his men, making sure nobody bothered his guests.

Later, they learned that the caravan belonged to an Auditor of the Emperor's Own. A powerful man, unsuited to the lowly lands of mortals. Word had it that the Governor licked the man's feet and hands so clean that the Auditor scarcely spared a glance at the city. Like a spoiled child, they fed and entertained him, making sure he couldn't see the sorry state that was Jiangzhen.

There was a bad smell about the whole deal. Logic dictated that the Governor should've told the Auditor they were in need of resources. The wounds from the cultivators' attack had yet to heal. Homeless people crowded the Library's grand square at night. Rent prices were through the roof. Any good man would've tried to do something. But it seemed the Governor had other plans.

People didn't complain. That just wasn't something they did. They carried on, silent. Lei found that if he let himself believe everything was good, even for a second, he became one of them. An ignorant fool, but a happy one. Other times, he would sit all alone behind his stall, counting his coppers. What was the deal with money, anyway? You earn it, save it, yet it somehow finds a way to slip through your fingers.

Fifteen imperial gold. That was just for the ferry. One coin for each. But what about when they stepped into a cultivator's city like Lanzhou? Fatty Lou said things were expensive there. Simply walking into that city wouldn't be enough. They needed more money. More of everything.

Thankfully, life wasn't just about dark storms. There was just enough light to keep Lei going. The kids were making progress. In just one week, Snake, Stone, and Little Mei had stepped into the 3rd Step of the Body Tempering Stage. Zhu Luli herself had reached the 8th Step of the Body Tempering Stage, with Fatty Lou and Lei finally crossing the hard line of the 2nd Step.

Monstrous talents. Zhu Luli had made a habit of using that phrase to describe those three little devils. Geniuses in the making. Indeed, they were a talented bunch, each in their own way. Little Mei often went outside with Little Yao and the black cat on her shoulders. She liked talking with them, and they seemed to understand her. Little Yao, being the strange spiritual beast she was, already had a good grasp of the common language, but that cat was normal, and yet it couldn't spend a second away from her. Cats weren't supposed to act like that.

Snake and Stone, on the other hand, spent their time cultivating. They were just like the cultivation maniacs Lei had read about in xianxia novels: sleep, eat, and cultivate. They had claimed one of the rooms all for themselves, barely stepping out. They didn't want to disturb the other kids. Lei had caught them more than once cultivating in the middle of the night.

Zhu Luli told him that this was normal, especially for talented kids. In time, when their cultivation progress slowed, they would come out of this phase. It was like finding a new game—you grind it like there's no tomorrow until you start getting sick of it. Though Lei was sure it would take some time.

Other talented kids weren't too far behind. Little Meng had stepped into the 2nd Step not long ago, and she carried the flag for her team. Yes, team. They had groups now. Little Jiao was head of the kitchen staff—future cooks, Lei called them—a team of misfits eager to learn the secrets of the culinary world. Then there were Little Meng's scoundrels, always pushing Zhu Luli for more knowledge. And finally, the top three. Yes, those three were different.

It turned out everything found a way to fall into a rhythm. It was hard to let them go, to let them be their own people. Lei had to fight against the urge to keep them at arm's length at all times. He didn't want to lose them. But being overprotective… that was a sin, Zhu Luli told him.

You have to let them be.

It was easy to say.

They'd gone out for a hunt during the weekend. Took a little tour around the Darkloom Forest to see if they would come across those rotten beasts again. They found nothing. Just to be safe, they stayed away from the Mountain, but the forest seemed to have changed for the better. The stench wasn't there. It was like those people had become smoke, vanishing into the air.

But Lei knew they had a Master lurking out there. He was hurt. Perhaps he needed the help of his men to get better. Perhaps, without them, whatever had hurt him would kill him in the long run. That would be the ideal ending, though Lei doubted if fate would keep its claws off him. It seemed to him that this world—or some being above the clouds—wanted to keep him alert, to twist his life one way or another. That was why he found this peace unsettling.

He knew he had to do something. More. He needed more.

He'd gone and talked with Master Li, had a chat with him while Granny Xu listened nearby. The old man hardly spared him any attention, seeming to be focused on something else, his mind distracted. He'd said he needed a few more days to decide on the matter.

Lei didn't want to leave them here, in Jiangzhen. The old man spent most of his time with the kids now. Granny Xu too. She had a special fondness for Little Jiao, often praising—perhaps excessively—her dishes whenever she brought her a plate.

They didn't have much money. Lei learned that they had spent most of what they owned on the orphanage in the city. The kids had food thanks to them. They would visit the place at least once a week to make sure the kids were being well cared for. Who knew the Ironlady had a soft side? When working as a dishwasher in her restaurant, Lei had thought of her as an old, grumpy woman who had lost her smile long ago.

She had a story of her own. Her kids and her husband, all lost many years prior. She had found new love in Master Li. They both had. Lei was happy for them, but this didn't change his plan of moving them to Lanzhou. Money. It all came down to that.

So today, he was planning to convince that old pair. He had no other choice.

.....

Master Li lived right above the bakery. The building was a two-story affair near the city center, bustling with plenty of customers. The prices were cheap. The quality was good. People didn't know how good they had it here. The man was a master of his craft, a whisperer of dough. Whatever Lei asked for, he deftly delivered.

But more and more, he was beginning to grow tired. He was nearly sixty years old—one of the elders in Jiangzhen who had the fortune to reach such an age. Most people died around their forties or fifties. But Master Li seemed to have clutched the strings of fate with both hands, refusing to give up. He would marry Granny Xu before dying of old age.

Lei found the pair sitting on a cushioned couch in the living room, sipping from ceramic cups. They looked like a retired couple—their faces tired, wrinkles etched deep, but happy lines crossed their features in defiance. Lei had hardly seen Master Li smile before, but nowadays, that was almost all he did.

"Sit, Little Lei," Master Li said as his brown eyes settled on Lei. There was a heaviness to them. Lei gently sat on another couch, facing the pair directly. "I see you haven't brought that good-for-nothing son of mine."

"He's been busy with other things," Lei said. It wasn't a lie. Fatty Lou had convinced a group of old friends to work for him, tailing people from the Governor's Office. Now that the Auditor was gone, things had begun to relax, which gave him many openings. "Have you decided, Master Li?" Lei asked after a moment, straightening his posture.

Master Li and Granny Xu shared a glance. The Ironlady had tied her hair back, her black eyes complementing the light brown dress she wore. She didn't look like the Ironlady—not here, not in Master Li's company. She was an ordinary old woman.

"We have decided," Master Li said, glancing again at Granny Xu. "But before that, we want to know more about this threat you spoke of."

Lei pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. They should've brought some sort of proof from the forest. Carrying a rotten beast hadn't seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, he had nothing to support his claims—rotten men, rotten beasts, perhaps planning an attack on the city. Who would believe him?

"You know they took the kids, Uncle Li," Lei began, his voice heavy. "We saved them from those men. We handled a bunch of them, but I don't think that was the end of their group. There may be more. There are more of them, hiding out in the forest, or maybe even in the city. We can't stay here."

"Surely the Governor wouldn't be ignorant of a threat of this kind," Master Li said, though he scowled at the mention of the Governor. He didn't like the man at all. Nobody did. "I've heard he's been in contact with the authorities. Skyguard, I've been told, have been dispatched to Jiangzhen."

"Skyguard? You mean the people who can cross the length of the Eastern Continent in one day?" Lei shook his head. "If our Governor had called for them, they should've been here already. Yet the city remains isolated. The ruins stand as a testament to that fact."

Granny Xu nodded at those words. That was a good sign. But Master Li scowled further, his eyes deep in thought.

"Lanzhou is a different beast," Master Li said, his voice tinged with fatigue. "There are no laws there. It's a different world, one that bears little resemblance to our Jiangzhen. Cultivator clans rule that city, and only the strong can remain free among their ranks. We would be crushed under their toes. Not to mention our terribly lacking funds."

"That's why I need you to give me the restaurant," Lei said, turning toward Granny Xu. The restaurant belonged to her. Her rent was high, and the profits were slim, but it would at least give Lei something to work with. "A month. I can save enough money in one month."

"Dozens of imperial gold, child," Granny Xu said, shaking her head. "We've talked about your strange dishes when you were working in my place. The taste is there, and I admit they are new, but what do you expect? Business isn't the same anymore. You've seen the state of people in the city."

Lei nodded. Even in his stall, he could barely find more than a dozen customers on a given day. With all the cost of ingredients, the rent, and the taxes, the profit margins kept dwindling.

"I won't be selling to your usual customers, Aunt Xu," Lei said, glancing at her. "I plan to change the restaurant. We will aim for the cultivators. They have plenty of money."

"The Governor's men?" Master Li clicked his tongue. "I thought you didn't like the man."

"I don't," Lei said. "I don't trust him either. What I want from him is his money. Just enough to get us out of this place."

"And how would you do that?" Master Li asked. "I like you, child. Unlike that good-for-nothing son of mine, you are different. You are ready to make an effort. You built that stand with your own hands, clawed your way out of those ruins. You even took the kids to your side, for which you have my respect. But don't think your food will satiate the hunger of those men. They feast on spiritual dishes."

Lei smiled knowingly. "That's why I wanted to invite you for dinner at my house. Tomorrow, with all the kids. I want you to taste my dishes once again before making your final decision."

Granny Xu sighed, as if she already knew it would be pointless. Yet when Master Li glanced at her, she gave a small nod. A dinner. A simple thing. It wasn't like they hadn't tried one of Lei's dishes before. They just didn't know that this time, Lei would sprinkle some spirituality into his dishes. It was time for them to understand what kind of chef they were dealing with.

"The kids will be expecting you," Lei said, rising from the couch, knowing they wouldn't refuse a chance to dine with the kids. He had to make sure the dishes wouldn't be too much for them, and for that, what he needed to do was a little experiment.

Chapter 45: Prep Work

Running a restaurant was hard. It took people to run one — people with skill. And that often came with a lot of ego. You had your prep cooks, your line chefs, and your service personnel. You had to be mindful of costs. The owner wouldn't like it if you tried to pull a fast one on him.

Order. Quality. All hidden behind a façade of glory, usually represented by smiling faces and lights — so many lights.

Lei often dreamt of becoming a head chef and opening his own restaurant. Not a big one, just a small place where he could oversee all the work himself. He would design the menu, taste the ingredients, and be watchful but compassionate. His staff wouldn't hear him screaming like a madman.

Attentive. Yes. All smiles and laughter in his kitchen.

Now, he had a chance to take over one. It was in a different world, in a different society, with different food. But as he checked the spiritual ingredients laid across the counter, he found himself shaking with excitement. By all means, he should be afraid. Rotten bastards lurked in the forest — and in the city, as far as they knew. The Governor was corrupt, and his plans were unknown. The diary was full of ominous signs, suggesting something big was approaching.

But his own restaurant? Just the idea thrilled him.

To do that, he just needed to impress the old couple. Nothing too hard. A simple gnarled fries and spiritual burger would do the job just fine, but those could be dangerous. And it somehow felt wrong to achieve such a milestone with one of his classic dishes. He needed something mild, yet still spiritual.

"Are you sure about this?" Fatty Lou asked, lounging to the side, his doubtful eyes scanning the counter. "You know they're… old. And this idea of targeting the cultivators, what if they figure out something is wrong?"

"You've heard Sister Luli," Lei said, picking up one of the stalks from the counter. It was an odd plant. The stalks were a bright pink, the color softening below where it dug into the soil. It looked like a pink spring onion but had no roots. It tasted mildly acidic, with a hint of mustard underneath. An odd combination. "She said normal Spirit Chefs are not uncommon in the Empire."

"Yeah, but that's not what I mean. There hasn't been a Spirit Chef in Jiangzhen before. People will start asking questions. Curiosity, Brother Lei, is an insidious poison," Fatty Lou said, his face solemn. "What will we tell them? That a Spirit Chef suddenly decided Jiangzhen would be a good place to do business?"

"Less competition. More profits," Lei said. "A washed-up, sorry bastard from the Middlelands. Kicked out of his own place. Had to find somewhere to start all over again. I say Jiangzhen is as good as any city for that. Hell, it's even better!"

"But you're not some unknown face. You've been cooking in that stall for weeks!" Fatty Lou argued, crossing his arms. "People will recognize that stupid face of yours. Then what?"

"Answer me this," Lei said, glancing at him. "You've been to many restaurants around the city. You even told me your old man brought you to some places in Lanzhou, correct?"

Fatty Lou nodded.

"How many times have you seen the face of the chef who cooked your dishes?" Lei asked, a smile playing on his lips. "How many times have you personally thanked the men or women who prepared your food?"

"Er…"

"Figured," Lei said, shaking his head. "That's the thing with people, Brother Lou. We have a tendency to take everything for granted."

"You're speaking as if they offered everything free of charge," Fatty Lou said. "We paid good money at those places."

"You did, of course," Lei said, pointing at him. "And look how proud you are! You've paid for the service, and that there is what I'm talking about. As long as the food is good, as long as the service is fast, people just pay and go about their lives. Nobody bothers to see the chef."

Fatty Lou looked troubled for a second, then nodded curtly. "I have to admit that makes sense. But what if some guy tries to go after the chef? I've seen people like that. There was even one guy who tried to barge into the kitchen, saying he'd kiss the chef's hands."

"Then he'll find the Master is out for a stroll," Lei said, placing the stalks gently on the counter. Roseroot, a Mortal-tier Low-Quality plant. It would grow real roses if it could survive until the Earth-Tier. Pink ones were the most common, but Zhu Luli said there were all kinds of colors. Lei cleared his throat. "We, as his disciples, are just following his recipes in the kitchen. Simple, eh?"

"Simple…" Fatty Lou mumbled. "I don't believe Granny Xu would give up her place just because you'll mix some spirituality into the dishes. She's different around my old man, but you know they call her—"

"The Iron Lady, I'm aware," Lei said, taking his knife. "I worked under that woman. Cooked for her, then she made me wash the dishes. But things are changing, Brother Lou. When I went to see them, I saw the truth in their eyes. They just want to be happy again. This whole bakery and restaurant business has kept them alive, but they always needed more, and now they've found it."

"You mean love? I doubt that old bastard is capable of something like that. The last time I checked, he'd added a few new curse words to bash them into my face. He won't change. It's just a phase."

"At sixty years old?"

"He hasn't changed in the last ten years," Fatty Lou said, frowning. "He didn't shed a single tear for my mother, and you're telling me he's in love with another woman? Sure, I could believe that, but I have more than a few reasons to think otherwise."

Lei stared at him. For all his smiles and trickery, his brother-in-arms always had a silent side. They had different relationships with their fathers. The Heavens knew Lei was the same. That's the thing about fathers and sons — there seemed to be an ever-present line between them, invisible. To cross that line would be to admit all the past wrongs, and those painful memories would come crashing down. So they just kept at it.

"Give them a chance," Lei said. It was the only thing he could say. Like most fathers, Master Li was a different man to others than to his own son. To Lei, he was a capable, hardworking man who appreciated effort. To Fatty Lou, he would always be the harsh, bickering voice in the back of his head, telling him how useless he was.

Lei allowed himself a wide smile when he heard the footsteps. Light steps on the wooden tiles. More joined them a moment later, marching closer to him like a little army. This one was an army of would-be cooks. They had a lot of promise in them.

"I want the onions soft and sweet," Lei said without looking back, raising his knife as if in thought. "I don't want to chew on them. I want them to fade into the background, but not so much that I can't still taste them. How should I cut them, then?"

"Dice them!" came a voice, strong and steady.

Lei arched an eyebrow and turned toward Little Chuanli. The boy was eager, Lei had to give him that, but he had a tendency to speak without much thought. His brown eyes seemed a little too big for his face, but his long, curling dark hair made up for that. To become a cook, though, he would have to start paying more attention to the lessons.

"We need strips," said another voice, too sure of herself. Little Jiao stepped forward, pointing at the onions on the counter. "You'll slice the onions and cook them until they're golden brown. That will bring out the sweet taste and nearly melt them, so you won't feel their hard texture."

"One point to our team leader!" Lei said, nodding with a smile. He gestured for Little Jiao to come closer and handed her the knife. "Don't forget, we're not racing against the clock here. Precision is key. Speed will come later."

Little Jiao's eyes wandered down to her left hand, where a small scab had formed. She'd cut one of her knuckles the other day when she tried to go a little faster. Her claw grip had loosened, and a bit of blood had come out. She seemed to carry that wound with pride.

Lei nodded as she began cutting the onions. Then he turned toward the other three. Little Chuanli still had that eager look on his face, which was good. Little Ning, on the other hand, stood sheepishly to his side, staring down at her hands.

She was one of the quietest kids in the house. Though Lei didn't force anyone toward a specific path, she seemed to prefer hanging out with Little Chuanli and Little Jiao most of the time. Lei didn't know if she wanted to become a cook, but he wouldn't dismiss the kid with a wave of his hand either.

And lastly, there was Little Yunru. The boy carried himself well, as if he were a couple of years older than the others. Most of the kids were around 10 years old, but Little Yunru towered over most of them. He was quite good at following instructions. Bulky, too—a little too much, perhaps, since even Stone had taken him as a rival for some time. Nowadays, though, Lei hardly saw Stone and Snake around with the other kids.

"Now, who can tell me," Lei said, pulling the pink stalks into his hand, "the properties of Roseroot?"

Little Jiao stopped and seemed to consider for a second if she should raise her hand, but a look from Lei made her get back to the onions. The other three remained silent for a moment, with even Little Chuanli hesitating.

"Mildly acidic," said Little Yunru in a confident, straight voice. "As a Low-Quality Mortal-tier plant, Roseroot is mostly cultivated by nobles for artistic reasons, displayed in big gardens all across the Empire. These gardens are seen as a sign of wealth and prosperity."

Lei found himself nodding along with Little Yunru's words, but when the boy finished his explanation, Lei raised a finger in the air. "Very well put, Little Yunru, but I asked for its properties, not its uses around the Empire. We'll be cooking with Roseroot. You said it's mildly acidic, but is that all?"

"It's juicy!" Little Chuanli said, fists clenched tight as he glanced at the stalks. "The stalks carry rainwater inside, thick with the spiritual energy of the world. Teacher Zhu said it's through this dense juice that the plant cultivates. And she said it's tasty! That's why spiritual beasts drink the juice rather than eat the whole stalks."

"Not bad," Lei said with a small nod. "You're right that the juice is an important part of Roseroot, but it creates a contrast with the stalks. These stalks can absorb rainwater through their tiny pores, but the process is so slow that we would have to wait for days if we wanted them to soak up all the juice. Therefore, we have to treat the juice and the stalks as two different ingredients."

"If we cook the juice, it will just evaporate," Little Yunru said, thoughtful.

"We can use meat." Little Chuanli stepped forward, looking over Little Jiao's shoulder at the other ingredients. He frowned. "But the meat has enough juice on its own…"

Lei kept silent, letting them ponder the matter for a while. The process of handling new ingredients demanded practice. Theory was the first step, but you had to dive into the process to see if your thoughts held true. Fortunately, they had enough Roseroot for the trials.

"What if we baste the meat with the juice as we cook it?" Little Ning said, then flinched when all eyes turned toward her. Even Lei had to admit he was surprised by her sudden, yet insightful, suggestion. She cleared her throat a moment later, as if building confidence to speak. "I've seen Big Brother Lei do it before. He poured the juices over the meat with a spoon, over and over again."

We can use normal meat. The juice has enough spiritual energy in it. Rather than directly injecting it into the meat, if we use the basting method, we can get that mild spirituality I wanted. Hmm. Not bad at all.

The room went silent as the others stared at Little Ning. The little girl, however, was looking into Lei's eyes with nervous expectation. Lei wanted her to be confident, to push herself to try these new ideas rather than doubt them right after she'd spoken.

"Well?" Lei muttered, arms crossed over his chest. The kids looked up at him, waiting. "We can't learn if we don't try, right? Let's give this basting idea a go. We'll see if the meat holds up."

The kids bolted toward the counter, fumbling around the ingredients. Little Ning got herself a lean steak from one of Lei's cuts, her fingers trembling. She lingered for a moment, hesitant, before Little Chuanli patted her on the shoulder, an encouraging smile on his face. Little Yunru nodded from behind her.

"Is this… safe?" Fatty Lou asked, shaking his head at the kids. "You let them play with fire and handle knives?"

"Ideally, I would've prepared a three-month course for them to take it step by step," Lei said gravely. "But I don't have the luxury to wait that long. And you're not giving them enough credit, as I once did. These kids are strong and eager. While we have the chance, I want them to learn as much as possible."

Fatty Lou sighed, raising his hands. "You're the head chef."

"I am, aren't I?" Lei almost laughed at those words. It still felt unreal. Then a look at the kids grounded that near-laugh into a small smile. He might be a head chef, but his staff desperately needed time and training to meet his standards.

Baby steps. That's the key here. I think we can do it.

But first, they had to convince that old pair to believe that Lei had what it took to run a restaurant in Jiangzhen.

Chapter 46: Impudent

"The spiritual energy of the world is a part of you," said the voice, barely a whisper that sounded inside his mind. "The spiritual vessel that is your body, the ethereal meridians coursing through your inner world slowly expand with each step, forming the strings that will bind you to the Heavens themselves."

"Doesn't feel like it," Snake whispered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The old man had a way with words. He also had the habit of turning them into riddles. He always seemed to choose the more profound way of delivering a lecture, even if it was on a topic as basic as the Body Tempering Stage.

"You have to understand the underlying workings of your body," the old man said, acting as if Snake was the most diligent student in the world. "It is through this knowledge that you shall build—"

"Yeah, the inner world, the true core of the soul, I know," Snake said, glancing up at his Little Brother. A sigh escaped his lips when he saw the serene expression on Stone's face. The fool of a rock always had a mind for these things, though Snake wondered if he really understood the words being uttered from within the rings.

"Patience, Brother Snake," Stone said, opening his eyes and revealing a little smile. Snake wanted to punch him. "You can't be hasty about these things. You've heard Master Grim. Details matter."

"We don't have enough time to ponder these so-called profound truths, Little Brother," Snake said, a bad taste in his mouth. "He should've been teaching us how to rip those rotten bastards apart with these hands, to fend off the pus that oozes from the cracks across their skin. He should've told us more about them, the real truth that matters here. But instead, he wastes time talking about the Heavens and how little we are to understand the workings of some sacred being."

Stone glared at him before shaking his head. His eyes strayed toward the bronze ring on his finger. He muttered a silent apology. "He doesn't mean it, Master Grim. You know he is—"

"What?" Snake rose to his feet, staring down at him. "Say it."

"Too eager for his own good," Stone said.

"Bah!" Snake raised his hands. "You're starting to sound just like him!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Stone cocked his head. "You know he's a thousand-year-old Sage from the old times, right?"

"Three," came the old man's voice.

"What?" Snake said.

"I'm three thousand years old." 

Was that a little crack in his voice? A real emotion, unlike how he often spoke in a straight cadence like the droning of the wind?

"Three thousand years," Snake said, trying to keep himself from smiling. He finally found a crack, so he pressed on. "Is this why you talk like a boring grandpa? Or is it because you split your soul into these rings, and that turned you into a bronze-headed pig that keeps blabbing on and on about these so-called profound topics?"

"Brother Snake!" Stone said, then flinched against his own voice, eyes peering toward the wooden door of their room. They'd decided to keep their voices low to not attract any attention while they cultivated. It had been his idea.

"And you call me the impatient one." Snake shrugged before focusing on the ring again. "This old Master… is useless. Big Sister Luli knows more than him. We should spend more time cultivating with her rather than staying here and listening to this madman's nonsense."

Stone's mouth gaped wide open. Snake didn't blame him. His Little Brother might not have been aware, but they were racing against time here. They couldn't just stay in this room forever. They needed more. They needed things they could use now.

So Snake decided to play this game. The old man couldn't hear his thoughts unless he opened them up for him, but he could see them from within the rings. That was why Snake had to keep Stone in the dark.

"Old people," he said, shaking his head. "I should've expected less. He can't even use spiritual energy, but he sure knows how to work that mouth of his. I mean, does he even have a mouth? Should we trust a man who couldn't even get out from that mountain, trapped for hundreds of years? What if he's gone mad, Little Brother? Have you ever thought about that?"

"I…" Stone gulped nervously. "I don't know, but he saved us. That has to count, right?"

Snake shook his head, disappointed. "I say we saved him. It is thanks to us that he can see the world once again. And he's the one who said he'd teach us how to jump over the dragon gate. Well? I don't see a gate here, and all I hear are empty words."

"You're going too far, Brother Snake. Too far."

"Too far? I don't think so. Look, he doesn't even have the face to answer me—"

"Impudent!" came the voice, deep and full of power. It rang true in Snake's mind, making him nearly trip over the bed. He righted himself with one hand on the wall, eyes on the ring. It seemed to glow faintly in the dark of the room.

"You, a mere child, dare to provoke me? This old man handled thousands with a wave of his hand back when you weren't even a speck of soul in the cycle of reincarnation. I plowed my way through enemy lines. With one axe, I butchered them, laid them in pieces without blinking an eye. They called me the Reaper, the Grim One! And now—"

"Enough of you," Snake pressed, heart pounding in his chest. "Show me something if you want me to believe your lies."

Stone gestured with his hand, eyes full of fear. Snake winked at him as if to say everything was under control.

It was. Sort of.

"Show you, you've said?" the old man continued with a raging voice. "Brat, you're courting death! Do you know how many geniuses tried to kiss these feet of mine to become my disciple? I have refused mountains, islands, and heavenly palaces brought to me as gifts so that they could hear a word of advice from my deep wisdom! I won't have an insolent child talk to me in such a tone!"

Snake stepped back, feeling the cold wall press against his neck. Shivers ran down his spine. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight seeping through the wooden shutters, but now the rings they wore glowed with inner light. Something was happening. A change. Finally.

"Promises!" Snake countered, clenching his jaw. "And yet you've shown us nothing! Is this how you'll teach us, old man? Is this how we'll beat those creatures? You keep talking while they are lurking out there, carefree, as if they are the locals of this town. They trash our woods, murder our people, preparing perhaps for another strike. Your big words will let us fight them, you think? I don't buy it!"

Silence.

Snake looked around, searching for a sign that the change was really taking place. The glow of the rings wore off, bit by bit, until they'd gone completely dark. The sudden anger that had punched him in the gut was gone. Vanished.

Why?

For days now, they'd been listening to the old man's teachings. Snake never doubted his wisdom, just feared that the years spent atop the mountain, all alone and isolated from the rest of the world, could've changed the way his mind worked.

Snake didn't know much, but he was aware that danger was approaching. He'd caught Big Brother Lei and Big Brother Lou talking in hushed voices at the back of the house. He'd heard them whisper about the Governor, the city, and the forest. Those bastards weren't gone. They were there, waiting, plotting.

He thought they had a chance now that they had a Sage for a Master. Thousands of years old. How deep must his knowledge be? How mighty must he have been once? Surely, he was an Immortal, a being of tales and myths, who deemed them worthy of his teachings. Surely there must be a reason why he forbid them from telling Big Brother Lei about him. 

But this… Heavens! This was not what Snake had expected. He'd thought by now he would've been flying across the skies, flames roaring, the ground bending to his will. If not that, he'd at least expected to learn… something.

Even Big Sister Luli had promised to give them a Cultivation Manual. She'd said it would take time, but she would see to it that they got a proper manual. Why, then, did this old man refuse to teach them the real things? Why did he keep wasting time with all this talk about the heavens and meridians?

"Master Grim!" Stone's voice was frantic. He'd raised the ring to his eyes, staring at it pleadingly. "Master Grim, are you there? Please, don't listen to Brother Snake. He shouldn't have wronged you like this!"

"Oh, come on," Snake said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Why?" Stone asked, his voice trembling. "Why are you like this?"

"You don't know—"

"I know!" Stone stepped closer, eyes cold with fury. "You weren't the only one who went through all of that. I was there. They took my blood just like they took yours. They kidnapped me. I was there too!"

Snake paused, glancing at him. What was happening? He was doing this for both of them. He had no other choice if they wanted to be ready for the next attack. Or what? Did Stone really think the old man's words would save them from those creatures?

Snake shook his head. "You're doing it again, Little Brother. You're backing off. You're keeping your silence even though, like me, you know that those words don't mean anything. That's why I have to look out for both of us."

"That was it, then? You, looking out for us?" Stone's eyes widened. Snake was about to nod when Stone started laughing. "And how is chasing out a thousand-year-old Master going to help you with that? Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, those words might hold some importance? Have you ever thought why an Immortal Master would waste time speaking about useless things?"

"You've seen it for yourself!"

"Seen what?" Stone took another step, towering over him. Snake hated that he had to look up at his Little Brother. He'd grown. His shoulders were wide and his arms strong, while even his Little Brother Yunru could be considered more of an adult than Snake. "What was the first lesson?"

Snake lowered his head.

"We're all part of the Heavens," Stone continued, raising his right hand. "And thus, the spiritual energy of the world is a part of us. Why is it that with each step, the meridians in our bodies grow strong, lending their strength to us?"

Stone clenched his fist, the bronze ring shining around his index finger. "The Body Tempering Stage, the Qi Condensation Stage, and even the Foundation Establishment Stage—cultivators came up with these names, but they are, in a way, born from a need to define our prowess in the eyes of the Heavens."

Snake's head started to hurt from all this useless talk. Stone had spent too much time with that old man, becoming a little version of him. Even the way he talked was no different.

"So?" he grunted.

Stone's voice dropped low, but it carried a certain weight. "So, Brother Snake, that's exactly why you can't rush this. Strength isn't just about your fists or some martial art you wish to learn. It's about becoming one with the very fabric of this world, weaving your will into the spiritual energy that surrounds us. You can't tear through the Heavens with impatience. You have to earn it."

Snake clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling under his skin. "And what if the world won't wait for us, Little Brother? What if those creatures strike again before we're ready? You think talking about the Heavens will save us?"

Stone's eyes darkened, his voice steady as iron. "I don't need to think. I know."

Snake opened his mouth to argue, but something shifted. The air around them grew dense with power, a crackling energy that seemed to pulse from the very earth beneath their feet. Stone raised his hand, and the ring on his finger blazed with a sudden, fierce light.

For a moment, Snake's breath caught in his throat. The air shimmered with an invisible force, and Stone's presence loomed larger, more imposing. His skin gleamed as if lit from within, and the room trembled with the weight of his words.

"You want proof, Brother Snake? I'll show you."

With a snap of his fingers, Stone summoned a whirlwind of spiritual energy, the air swirling violently as if bending to his will. The wooden floor cracked beneath their feet, splinters flying as a powerful force slammed into the room, knocking Snake back. The walls groaned under the pressure as the wind howled.

In the center of the chaos, Stone stood tall, calm, and unyielding.

"Do you feel it now?" he asked, his voice rising over the storm. "This is what Master Grim has been teaching us. This is the power you crave. But it's not just strength, Brother Snake. It's control. Understanding. And if you keep rejecting it, you'll never master it."

Snake staggered to his feet, eyes wide. For once, he was speechless.

Stone lowered his hand, and just like that, the storm ceased. The room fell silent.

Stone looked at him, his eyes burning with intensity. "You wanted to see something? There it is. But next time, Brother Snake, let's make sure we're both ready to use it when it counts."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time in a long while, Snake found himself truly listening.