The Lychee Revelation – Kuga’s Culinary Awakening

In the world of modern Sichuan cuisine, there are twenty-four widely recognized flavor profiles.

Salty.

Fermented black bean.

Tomato.

Sweet and sour.

Sesame paste.

Soy sauce.

Five-spice.

Salt and pepper.

Spicy.

Red oil.

Burnt.

Sour and spicy.

Peppery.

Fish fragrant.

Tangerine peel…

Among these vibrant flavors, one particularly elusive yet exquisite style stood out—lychee flavor. It was a profile that didn't actually contain lychee, but mimicked its sweet and tangy essence through a masterful blend of ingredients: salt, vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, and cooking wine, all paired with aromatics like ginger, scallions, and garlic. The result was a dish with a delicate balance of sweet, sour, salty, and refreshing notes—a flavor profile deceptively simple but difficult to perfect.

There were two variations:

Large lychee flavor, which leaned more into sweetness, reminiscent of ripe, juicy lychees.

And small lychee flavor, which highlighted a slight sourness that imitated the tart aftertaste of unripe lychees, sharper, bolder, more complex.

Zane's version of Kung Pao Chicken didn't rely on heat. It was small lychee flavor—a fusion of burnt aroma and lychee-style tartness, subtle yet rich, deep yet accessible.

Kuga Terunori placed his chopsticks down. His brow furrowed slightly as he absorbed what had just happened to his palate.

"Owner," he finally said, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

"You are the first chef to create a non-spicy Chinese dish that's completely convinced me."

It was praise—but it came laced with quiet astonishment. Kuga felt something unfamiliar welling up in his chest. Doubt.

His mind began racing. Could he imagine a spicy Kung Pao Chicken that tasted better than what he'd just eaten?

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many spice combinations he imagined, the answer was always the same—he couldn't.

And that wasn't all.

His usual proud dishes—Mapo Tofu, Saliva Chicken, Fish Fragrant Pork, Lantern Shadow Beef—they all felt… lackluster now.

This realization wounded his pride.

His core belief—that spiciness was the ultimate weapon in Sichuan cuisine—was cracking.

But perhaps it had always been personal preference. He loved watching diners sweat and smile through the rush of capsaicin. To him, that was validation. That was impact.

"In China, spicy food has become widespread," Zane spoke, his voice even, calm. "It's just like how the West relies heavily on cheese and dairy. So, your focus on spicy dishes isn't wrong."

"But a chef's goal should be to satisfy diners, not just assert their own style."

"It's great to have your own approach, but you can't ignore that some people crave subtlety. Sweetness. Tartness. Harmony."

"That's why you're in the Elite Ten—but also why you're stuck where you are."

Zane didn't mince words, and Kuga appreciated that.

Kuga listened, his face unreadable, but his silence spoke volumes. It was the quiet of someone thinking—deeply.

Sweet.

Salty.

Sour.

Fresh.

These were the foundational elements of taste. Milder, yes, and often lacking the bold stimulus that made spicy food so addictive. But still important.

Zane understood Kuga. From his early appearances during the Moon Banquet arc, the spark of rebellion within him had always been clear—much like Soma's.

That same rebellious nature had driven him to defy Mana Nakiri during the academy's civil war. While Mana and her faction turned Totsuki into a rigid, talent-based hierarchy, Kuga had resisted.

He had forced students into the Chinese Cuisine Research Society—yes—but not to oppress them. He used it as a platform to train, to innovate, to cultivate the next generation of spicy Chinese chefs.

The 8th seat under his tutelage wasn't just a clone. They had fundamentals. Creativity. Discipline.

Mana's reform, in contrast, had simplified cooking to a formula. Students mimicked the Elite Ten's recipes and achieved perfection through repetition, not skill. There was no room for creativity—only obedience.

Kuga's rejection of Mana wasn't just philosophical. It was personal.

Like Soma, he didn't take well to being anyone's puppet.

His obsession with structure, with processes—it was his way of overcoming past failure. He'd lost to Eishi Tsukasa, the First Seat. That loss had left a deep scar, and training his Research Society was a way to prepare for the rematch he longed for.

"People say spiciness can cover up flaws."

"But if you're using dead fish or spoiled shrimp, even chili oil won't save it."

"Spiciness is a tool—not a crutch."

Kuga's thoughts spiraled as he stared at the empty plate. He sighed, long and low.

Then he stood, collected himself, and bowed lightly toward Zane.

"Owner. Miyoko didn't exaggerate. You're a phenomenal Chinese cuisine chef."

"There's more than one way to conquer a palate. Sweetness, tartness, aroma—all of it matters. Your small lychee Kung Pao Chicken… it opened my eyes."

"From now on, I want to try more. Innovate. Mix styles. Step outside my chili-stained comfort zone."

Zane simply nodded.

"I can't say your path is right or wrong," he said. "But it's always good to have more choices. To try new things."

By midnight, the tavern finally closed for the night.

Kuga, now contemplative and respectful, quietly made his exit. He wasn't the same chef who had walked in earlier that evening.

His encounter with Zane had sparked something new—something that would eventually push him and Miyoko to promote Chinese cuisine across Totsuki Academy.

Inside, another conversation was happening.

"Mom… are you leaving?"

Erina's eyes shimmered in the dim light, her voice soft with reluctance. "If you want, you could stay here at the tavern. We could…"

Mana Nakiri smiled gently, brushing her daughter's forehead with a loving hand.

"Erina."

"The WGO still needs me. There's something big coming—a global culinary shift. I need to prepare for it."

"But we'll have many more chances to see each other."

"Learn all you can here. Zane is someone worth learning from. I believe he'll help you surpass even me someday."

A faint smirk tugged at Mana's lips.

"Even though your dishes used to make me sick when you were little, I'm looking forward to the day you create something that truly satisfies my God Tongue."

Erina was stunned.

But then, she clenched her fists and lifted her chin. "I will… I'll make it happen."

"Good," Mana whispered. "I'll be waiting."

She turned to Zane. "Please take care of Erina."

"I will," Zane replied—

"Zane treats me really well!" Erina interrupted, cheeks flushed. "Much better than Totsuki ever did!"

Mana blinked. So the little girl was already showing signs of attachment…

She sighed in resignation. Daughters really were like spilled water. And this one hadn't even married yet.

As Mana left the tavern and disappeared into the night, a notification rang in Zane's mind.

"Ding!"

"Check-in successful!"

"Congratulations! You've obtained: Recipe – Fried Rice Without Rice, Special Recipe – Flame Dumplings, Special Cooking Skill – Arhat Crystal Cut, and 1 Tavern Upgrade Opportunity!"

Zane froze.

"What?! This reward is insane!"

Sure, he expected recipes. But a special cooking skill and an upgrade token? That was next-level.

And tonight of all nights, when he had also pulled Navia in just ten rolls on his gacha app—luck really was on his side!

Fried Rice Without Rice wasn't a gimmick. It was a health-conscious alternative using finely chopped cauliflower to replace high-GI white rice. Low in calories, high in fiber, packed with nutrients—perfect for the modern diner seeking nutrition without compromise.

Flame Dumplings? Now that was a showstopper.

Originating from the Guangzhou Gyoza Festival, the dish involved spraying alcohol over dumplings and setting them ablaze to eliminate excess moisture. The result? Dumplings that looked like they were wreathed in flames—crispy, smoky, unforgettable.

And then came the crown jewel: Arhat Crystal Cut, a dark cooking technique from the Seven Blades Rein.

This skill allowed a chef to slice sashimi with such precision that it reflected light like a polished mirror—capable of showing the reflection of a person's face.

Combined with his Unbreakable North Star Wolf Blade, Zane could now craft the perfect Frozen Ice Sea Bream—a dish as beautiful as it was delicious.

"Ding!"

"Host now has one tavern upgrade opportunity. Use it now?"

"Use it," Zane said immediately.

"Upgrade initiated. The tavern will be closed for 24 hours during remodeling."

Zane stretched and yawned. "Guess it's another day off."

"Sonoka and Erina could use the break anyway."

The last time the tavern upgraded, it gained a 50-square-meter extension, a basement storage area, lounge, and even a smoking room. The kitchen and dining area had been fully renovated.

This next upgrade?

Zane had a feeling it would be on another level entirely.

"I'll probably need more staff…"

"Takumi's free now… after that whole night chef debacle, his place went under…"

Zane smirked. A new chapter was coming.

And the tavern's story was just beginning.