Chapter 7: Fire and Tofu

The mission had ended.

Ye Zhen's squad returned to Cloudveil with their report, half of them shaken, one of them traumatized, and Ye Zhen… just bored.

"It was only a pocket of fractured time," he muttered, stretching his arms. "Not my fault they all acted like it was the apocalypse."

He didn't bother heading straight back to the sect.

Instead, he drifted down the outer mountain road and wandered into a quiet town nestled by a spirit spring one of those old markets used by traveling merchants and rogue cultivators.

And that's when the smell hit him.

Fermented tofu.

Spicy. Sour. Fragrant enough to knock a dragon out of the sky.

Ye Zhen followed the scent like a man possessed.

He found the stall in the middle of the town square.

A cauldron bubbled behind the counter, thick white smoke pouring out, swirling with spiritual heat. On the counter: sizzling tofu cubes lined with red chilies and golden Qi.

The sign said:

"Monk Wei's World-Ending Tofu: We Burn the Dao Out of You."

Ye Zhen sat down.

An old, hunched stall master in prayer beads blinked at him.

"Ten spirit coins."

Ye Zhen dropped eleven. "Extra burn."

The old man grinned.

Before Ye Zhen could take a second bite, a bowl slammed down next to him.

"Hey. That was the last plate."

Ye Zhen turned slowly.

The guy next to him was bald, shirtless, and built like a fortress that ate other fortresses for breakfast. His belly peeked out from beneath his sash, and he carried a giant wooden rice scoop strapped to his back like a war club.

"Name's Wei Tu," the monk said. "And I smelled that tofu from two valleys over. That's my tofu."

Ye Zhen raised an eyebrow.

"Does your nose pay spirit coins?"

Wei Tu sat.

"I'll fight you for it."

"With fists or chopsticks?"

"Both."

"Deal."

Two minutes later

Tofu splattered.

Chopsticks clashed.

Bowls flew.

Cultivators from nearby stalls were ducking for cover.

Ye Zhen dodged a flying table leg and kicked a rice bucket into the monk's face.

Wei Tu spun like a drunken boulder and slammed a tofu plate into Ye Zhen's chest with a palm technique that sizzled.

"Dao of Fermentation: Thousand Flavor Slap!"

"Iron-Blood Windstep: Fragrant Lotus Kick!"

BOOM.

Both men froze mid-air.

Tofu dropped between them.

They caught it one hand each and stared.

Silence.

Then

Laughter.

Wei Tu plopped back onto the bench and wiped his face with a dumpling.

"You're alright, tofu thief."

"You fight like a rampaging vegetable cart," Ye Zhen said, grinning. "I respect that."

They clinked bowls.

"To unorthodox brothers and spicy food," Wei Tu said.

"And broken Heaven," Ye Zhen replied.

But the good mood didn't last long.

A shadow flickered across the square.

Then three.

Then seven.

Robed figures in black masks appeared on rooftops, standing in a perfect ring.

"Target confirmed."

"Engage."

"Do not damage the core."

A dart flew.

Ye Zhen tilted his head.

It missed.

Another came laced in poison, carrying soul-disrupting venom.

Wei Tu's hand blurred. He caught it between two chopsticks.

"Assassins," the monk said, disappointed. "During tofu time? Rude."

"Thousand Venom Hall," Ye Zhen muttered.

"How do you know?"

"They're always this dramatic."

The attackers moved fast blades coated in mist, shadows flowing unnaturally.

But Ye Zhen?

He just kept chewing.

"Cover your bowl," he told Wei Tu.

"Why?"

"I'm about to cook."

FWOOM.

The Ashen Phoenix Glyph ignited behind Ye Zhen like wings of molten truth. A sigil formed mid-air burning red, flickering gold.

A flame diagram.

The attackers froze.

Just for a moment.

And that was all Ye Zhen needed.

"Karmic Flame Devourer."

Flames roared not from his hands, but from within the assassins themselves, as the fire burned their sins, their lies, and their intent.

They screamed as the fire found their karma.

Wei Tu whistled.

"That's not normal fire."

"It's hungry fire," Ye Zhen said.

"...I think I'm in love."

By the time the flames died, the assassins were ash, the stall was gone, and the tofu was... somehow untouched.

Ye Zhen stood there, eyes half-lidded.

Wei Tu offered him a fresh bowl.

"You ever want to destroy the world together, tofu brother... I'm in."

"I just want to nap," Ye Zhen muttered.

"Even better."