Chapter 25: The Celestial Feast and the Wok of Heaven

Li Fan stepped through the crackling portal hand-in-hand with Yuechan, eyes shut tight and heart hammering like a furious chef's knife on a chopping board. One dizzying lurch later, the world fell silent. He opened one eye first, then the other. Gone was the imperial banquet hall of the mortal realm. In its place stretched a vast golden courtyard in the clouds – literally. Fluffy white clouds curled around marble pillars and beneath a polished jade floor that seemed to float in mid-air. Immortal courtiers in flowing robes milled about carrying platters of shimmering fruits and jugs of ambrosia wine. Overhead arched a rainbow sky with two suns (or were those giant glowing wok lids?) warming the fragrant air.

Li Fan's jaw hung loose. "So… this is Heaven, not new trail or something... huh?" he breathed.

Yuechan, still gripping his hand (not that he noticed immediately, being awestruck), gave a light squeeze. "Welcome to the Celestial Court's Kitchen Pavilion," she announced with a grin. She was back in her elegant silvery immortal attire, a few lotus petals swirling around her like she had her own wind machine. "Try not to fall off the clouds. They're bouncy."

Li Fan immediately looked down with alarm at the semi-transparent floor. Far beneath, he thought he could make out the curvature of the mortal world. He swayed, feeling suddenly like a meatball in a soup, floating with nothing solid beneath. Yuechan steadied him, pulling him towards the center of the courtyard. "Easy there. It takes a moment to get your cloud legs. Deep breaths."

He inhaled. The air here smelled amazing – like freshly steamed buns, crisp mountain air, and a hint of… was that stir-fry garlic? The familiar scent comforted him enough to move without wobbling. "I—I'm okay. Just never thought I'd be walking on clouds without, you know, falling through and screaming."

A passing servant, an androgynous being with a chef's hat taller than Li Fan's torso, paused to bow. "Honored mortal Master Li Fan, the Jade Emperor's Culinary Court bids you welcome. Preparations for the Celestial Feast are nearly complete. Please, follow me to the Grand Kitchen."

"Master? Me? Oh no, I'm just a cook…" Li Fan started to wave his hands humbly, but Yuechan nudged him.

"In Heaven, you're the guest of honor, hero. Might as well enjoy it," she whispered, winking.

Li Fan gulped. Guest of honor in Heaven's Feast. No pressure. This was fine. Totally fine. He was just an outer-sect nobody who got lucky with some fried rice, now about to cook for gods. It's like going from making street skewers to running a royal banquet… times ten!

They passed through arched doors carved with scenes of legendary banquets – one depicted an immortal roasting a whole dragon on a spit, another showed a stew pot big enough to boil an ocean. Li Fan tried not to let these images intimidate him. Instead, his nose caught another enticing aroma: spice and incense and something braised for a thousand years. Despite nerves, he found himself salivating. Leave it to Li Fan to be hungry even when terrified.

Inside, the Grand Kitchen was a bustling wonderland. Counters of celestial jade, knives made from phoenix beaks and dragon fangs, and woks that floated over flames of multi-colored divine fire. A dozen or so cooks – some clearly immortal chefs with halos of culinary qi – darted about in controlled frenzy. Li Fan's eyes went round. It was like the world's most chaotic night market stall, except the vendors were immortals and the ingredients…

He spotted a levitating carp fish being sliced mid-air – its flesh still shimmering with starlight. A bag of flour on one counter spontaneously sprouted wheat stalks (the flour was so fresh it was alive, apparently). An apron-clad woman chopped herbs that glowed and changed the color of her knife with each cut. In one corner, a barrel of something burbled, releasing a scent that made Li Fan's hair stand up as if charged with lightning – was that actual liquid thunder soup?

Before he could gawk at everything, the head of the kitchen staff approached. He was a stout immortal with a towering chef's hat and a beard that glittered like spun sugar. He did not look pleased. "So. You're the mortal upstart who cooked that dish that rang the Heavenly dinner bell," the man rumbled. He crossed his arms, eyeing Li Fan from head to toe as though assessing a low-grade vegetable.

Li Fan managed a polite bow without stumbling. "Greetings, erm, honored chef. I'm Li Fan. Sorry for the trouble?" He wasn't sure if summoning him had been an inconvenience. The man's expression – a mix of annoyance and curiosity – suggested perhaps yes.

The immortal chef sniffed. "We shall see if it's trouble or triumph. I am Master Zhuge, Head Chef of the Jade Emperor's Kitchen." He gestured around imperiously. "This is my domain. We run a tight ship – or wok – here. The Celestial Feast begins shortly and every dish must be perfect."

At those words, a loud clang echoed as a copper pot lid was dropped by a lesser cook. Master Zhuge shot a glare that could curdle milk. "Focus, you dolts! We serve Heaven's royalty tonight, not a village wedding!" The kitchen minions quivered and doubled their efforts. Clearly, Zhuge ran the kitchen like a military camp.

Li Fan stood awkwardly, unsure if he should be stirring something. "How can I, uh, contribute, Master Zhuge? I'm honored to be here, though honestly I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."

The older chef raised a bushy eyebrow. "The summons said you are to present a dish that 'stirred the Heavenly Appetite'. Hmph. Likely a fluke. But orders are orders. You will cook as a guest chef – one dish, at least – to be served to the Jade Emperor and his guests. Think of it as your entrance exam into celestial cuisine."

One dish for the Jade Emperor. The ruler of Heaven. Li Fan felt faint for a moment. Just a little stir-fry for the most powerful being in existence, no biggie. He had handled picky immortals already (okay, just one baby phoenix and some mortal aristocrats, but still). He took a steadying breath. "Understood. One dish. I can do that. Did… did the summons specify any particular dish or ingredients?"

Master Zhuge smirked mirthlessly. "No specifics. They expect you to recreate the marvel that got their attention, I presume. That fried rice, was it?" He stroked his sugar-crystal beard. "But just duplicating what you made before won't satisfy these guests. They'll expect something even more extraordinary now that you're on their turf."

Li Fan bit his lip. The man had a point. Simply doing the same fried rice might not impress a second time, especially not immortals who had tasted every delicacy in creation. But what else could he do? His strengths were simple, hearty dishes, elevated with a dash of creativity (and a lot of luck). He glanced at Yuechan, who gave him an encouraging nod from the sidelines, mouthing, "You got this."

As Li Fan gathered his wits, another voice chimed in, dripping with honeyed sarcasm. "Master Zhuge, surely you're not worried a mere mortal will outshine us?"

A slender, elegant immortal with sleeves that trailed on the floor glided over. He wore a pristine apron embroidered with golden lotuses and carried a jade ladle like a scepter. Li Fan had seen that kind of expression before – usually on inner sect disciples right before they tried to trip him in the cafeteria.