Cooking

After successfully convincing his junior sister to permanently retire from her culinary adventures, Xiang Yu returned to his training ground with renewed purpose. Each swing of his practice knife cut through the air with increasing precision, his movements gradually shedding their awkwardness like a snake molting its old skin. The afternoon sun tracked its slow arc across the azure sky as he repeated the fundamental forms countless times, each repetition building upon the muscle memory of the last.

By evening, when the sun began its descent behind the jagged mountain peaks, painting the clouds in brilliant shades of amber and crimson, Xiang Yu finally allowed himself to pause. His earlier collapse had served as a harsh reminder that unlike true cultivators, he couldn't sustain himself on spiritual energy alone. His mortal body had mundane needs that required attention, regardless of his cultivation ambitions.

As he straightened from his stance, muscles protesting after hours of continuous exertion, an unmistakable odor assaulted his nostrils. Turning his head slightly to investigate the source, Xiang Yu made the unpleasant discovery that the offending smell emanated from none other than himself. After two straight days of intensive training without bathing, he had developed what could only be described as an aura of his own—one that would certainly not enhance any dining experience.

"I can't cook like this," he muttered, grimacing at his own fragrance. "Bath first, then food."

Gathering a fresh set of robes and some bathing herbs from his humble dwelling, Xiang Yu made his way to a secluded river spot nestled deep within the mountain's embrace. The water ran clear and cool, fed by melting snow from higher elevations. As he shed his sweat-soaked garments and waded into the bracing current, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

The natural bathing herbs he'd collected released their essence when crushed and mixed with water—not the artificial chemical perfumes he'd been accustomed to in his previous life, but something far more pleasant. Their subtle, earthy fragrance seemed to harmonize with the surrounding forest, cleansing both body and spirit without masking his natural scent entirely.

Refreshed and properly attired in clean robes, his damp hair still clinging to his neck, Xiang Yu made his way to the pavilion's communal kitchen. To his surprise, Li Yao had already arrived, another unfortunate wild boar laid out and ready for preparation.

"Brother, do you know how to cook?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement and curiosity.

A confident smile played across his lips as he rolled up his sleeves. "Just wait and see."

Inwardly, he tempered his own expectations. He was no professional chef—his culinary skills were utilitarian at best, developed merely for survival during his former life's bachelor days. Yet compared to whatever eldritch cooking technique his junior sister employed, his basic competence would surely seem like heavenly craftsmanship.

With practiced motions that belied his modest abilities, Xiang Yu selected the most promising portion of meat—a well-marbled section of loin that promised tenderness and flavor when properly prepared. His hands moved with deliberate confidence as he trimmed away excess fat and sinew, preparing the cut with methodical precision.

The seasoning process was simple but effective—coarse salt crystals and freshly cracked pepper formed the foundation, enhanced by a carefully selected mixture of mountain herbs. Between his fingers, juniper berries released their sharp, resinous aroma as he crushed them alongside fragrant sprigs of rosemary and thyme, the combined scents evoking forgotten memories of comfort and satisfaction.

When the seasoned meat met the hot surface of the ancient cast-iron pan, a satisfying sizzle filled the kitchen, accompanied by an aroma so primal and enticing that even Li Yao's eyes widened in appreciation. The blackened surface of the well-used pan, witness to countless meals throughout the pavilion's history, created the perfect sear, locking precious juices within the meat while developing a caramelized crust on the exterior.

After allowing the roast to rest beneath an improvised tent of thin metal foil, Xiang Yu returned his attention to the pan. The drippings, concentrated essence of the meat itself, became the foundation for a luxurious sauce, enhanced with wild mushrooms gathered during his bathing expedition and a splash of aged brandy from the kitchen's modest stores. The alcohol caught fire briefly as it hit the hot pan, dancing blue flames that settled into a silky reduction as it simmered down.

His knife met little resistance when he finally carved the finished dish. The perfectly cooked meat revealed itself—a gradient of color from the herb-crusted exterior to the slightly pink center, each slice releasing a fresh wave of fragrant steam that filled the dining area with its mouthwatering promise.

Li Yao stared at the masterfully prepared meal, her expression one of undisguised longing as moisture gathered at the corners of her mouth. Xiang Yu smiled warmly as he served her a generous portion, which she attacked with immediate enthusiasm. He then plated his own serving and joined her at the table, surprised by how easily conversation flowed between them as they savored the simple but satisfying meal.

What neither disciple noticed was the gradual intensification of another presence drawn inexorably toward their dining spot. Elder Guo Shantian, revered master of Mountain Heart Pavilion, had been attempting meditation in his private chambers when the tantalizing aromas began their relentless assault on his senses. For nearly an hour, the venerable cultivator had maintained his disciplined posture, fighting the distraction with every technique accumulated over centuries of spiritual practice.

In the end, even immortal willpower proved insufficient against such culinary temptation.

With a flash of movement that belied his apparent age, Elder Guo materialized beside their table, stroking his long beard in an attempt to maintain his dignified demeanor despite the obvious hunger in his eyes.

"Young disciple," he intoned with affected solemnity, "remember that the path to enlightenment involves letting go of attachments... particularly delicious ones that steam with such tantalizing aromas."

Without missing a beat, Xiang Yu reached for a large plate he had prepared in anticipation of this very scenario. "This is for you, Master," he said respectfully, presenting the generous portion with a slight bow.

The elder's eyes gleamed as he accepted the offering, any pretense of detachment completely abandoned as he settled himself at the table. "Good filial disciple," he proclaimed approvingly before succumbing to the meal's allure with surprising enthusiasm.

As night descended fully upon Mountain Heart Pavilion, an unusual scene unfolded in its humble kitchen—master and disciples sharing not just food but genuine moments of connection, their laughter and conversation rising into the star-filled sky like the steam from their plates.