15 Trip to the Kitchen

Just before a certain incident would stir the livelihood of Nine Gates of Heaven Inn, the streets of Taonan City were busy and buzzing with energy as the arrivals of White Cloud Sect contestants poured in like the early spring showers. Lines strayed out of inns as the newcomers searched for places to stay and rest. There was still one week until the exam would officially take place, but the city's inns were already filling up quickly. Due to this, the kitchens were busy cooking the finest dishes, brewing fresh tea, and serving the best wine for all these young masters and young misses.

"Aiyah, why is it always like this every year? I'm so tired of it already! These young masters and young misses should find somewhere else to play instead!" A scrawny man complained as he struggled to carry buckets of water to the kitchen.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Another bellowed in a hushed voice as he pulled water out of the well. "Our heads will be sent flying if they hear! Don't you know most of them are from immortal families? One offense, and you'll be good as dead!"

He placed the full bucket on a flat rock that served as a platform. "Plus, we're under the jurisdiction of White Cloud Sect. We should be grateful for their care. Without them, Taonan City wouldn't be able to flourish to its current state!"

"Hmph! Why should we be grateful? Those immortals only look down on us! We do all the dirty work, while all they do is train and get treated like kings and queens! You think they would spare a second glance at us?" The scrawny man harrumphed as he hurried back with an empty bucket and placed it on the rock platform. He took the bucket brimming with water next to it and turned to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, the ground beneath him had turned into mud from all the spilling, so when he pivoted his foot, he slipped on the mushy mess. The bucket in his hands was sent flying as the water stretched out of its cavity.

Before it could land, however, the water quickly froze over into ice and shattered into a million pieces; the tiny bits looked like snow as they fluttered in the air in a beautiful dance. The now-empty bucket hit the muddy ground with a light thud. A foot stepped before its emptiness.

The two kitchen workers were struck dumb as they looked from the foot to the face of its owner. In front of them stood a youth with eyes as dark as ink—even the night Sky above them paled in comparison to its clarity and depth. His hair was pulled into a short ponytail as black locks framed his boyish face, revealing a proud forehead.

"Where is Chef Lu?" The youth asked nonchalantly; his voice was clear and piercing.

"H-he's in the backroom, checking on the rice," the man by the well answered with a shaky voice as the scrawny man laid on the muddy earth speechlessly.

"Thank you," the youth gave the two a nod before curtly heading towards the back room.

Once he arrived at his destination, he walked through the doors without restraint. Inside, several stacks of bamboo steamers stood atop ovens of boiling water. Thick layers of warm mist pervaded the room as sturdy hands carefully stirred the sticky grains of rice. A sweet aroma filled the air.

"Chef Lu?" The youth called out.

There was no answer.

"Chef Lu, Young Mast-"

"Hold your horses, youngin'! Let me finish stirrin' these rice, will ya'?!" A stern voice yelled from behind the white steam. "Rice is the base of every good meal. If it isn't perfectly soft and sweet, I will not move out of this room! Ya' hear me?!"

The youth spoke no further.

After about half an incense stick or so, a lid finally closed on the open bamboo steamer. The thick mist lessened to reveal a brawny, middle-aged man dressed in grey. A brown apron was strapped around his muscular built; black hair was strewn back and fastened by a stray piece of cloth. His harsh gaze immediately softened when he saw the youth by the door.

"Why, isn't it Zhaoli?" He laughed heartily and approached the boy. "What are ya' doin' here, lad?"

"Young Master has a special request," Zhaoli replied.

"Oh! Young Master as in Young Master Li Jiafeng? What can I do for him?" Chef Lu asked in all earnestness. There was only one master this Zhaoli served, and it was none other than the young master of the Immortal Li House.

"Young Master would like to have an order of the plumpest roasted duck with some side dishes of fried pork with garlic oil, beef stew with veggies, and a steamed chicken for Lady Mudan's room. This is a top priority."

"My, so many meat dishes! Are ya' havin' a meat feast now?" Chef Lu could not help but show his surprise. It was normal to have some meat dishes with sides of vegetables, but all these dishes were meat! Who could have the stomach for so much meat?

"It's for a guest," Zhaoli said plainly before lowering himself into a small bow. "Sorry for the trouble, Chef Lu. Please prepare it as soon as possible."

"Of course, of course!" Chef Lu laughed and asked no further. "Now don't be so formal, youngin'! Ya' can go on now. Don't worry 'bout me. I've got everythin' under control! The food will be there within the burnin' of an incense stick!"

"Thank you," Zhaoli nodded and headed back to the floor where Mudan's room resided.

Along the five flights of stairs to the room, memories of the battle earlier played in his mind—the slender figure dancing with a pure-white jade flute in hand, every attack of the instrument graceful yet as fierce as the powerful gale of an unforgiving storm. A hint of disdain flashed through his usually clear eyes before quickly disappearing.

On the fifth floor, he saw two men carrying a wooden table.

"Is this for Lady Mudan's room?" Zhaoli asked the two men; they paused and looked to the youth.

Upon recognizing the handsome, boyish face, the two placed the table down and bowed respectfully. "Yes! We heard the table in Lady Mudan's room needed to be replaced, so we have prepared a new one from the storage room."

"Would you like some help?" Zhaoli asked.

The two men shook their heads fervently. "We wouldn't dare, little master!"

Zhaoli blinked; he acknowledged them with a nod and walked beside them towards the room.

Just down the hall, a crash sounded within a room. In contrast to Mudan's prudently decorated room, the room was lavished with bright colors and expensive furniture. Even the curtains were made from the finest brocade.

A beautiful, young girl sat calmly at the center table of rosewood; a mess of broken porcelain laid at her feet. She looked as lovely as spring lilies—as pure as a white lotus—but her eyes were filled with enmity. It did not match her image of innocence.

"What do you mean the chef can't personally prepare my food?" She asked with a voice that rang like tiny bells. Her pearly eyes looked towards the tall, young man in black.

"Answering Young Miss, Chef Lu is currently preparing someone else's order right now. He says he will get to ours as soon as he is done with it," the man lowered his sharp eyes.

"Someone else's? Who is this someone? Are they even more important than Head Immortal Jun's beloved daughter? More important than me, Jun Lingzhu?" The girl raised a questioning brow.

There was a moment of silence.

"The food is for Lady Mudan's room," the man said.

Lingzhu paused; her eyes widened slightly in amusement.

Finally, a giggle left her pouty lips.

"Liu Mudan, Liu Mudan. Even with food, must you go against me?" A smile bloomed on Lingzhu's dainty features. "Come, Xuwen. Let's go pay our senior a visit, hm?"

She walked out the door without another word. Xuwen naturally followed behind his master.

When they reached within thirty steps of the entrance to Mudan's room, however, the scene before them was unlike anything they would have expected.

At what should have been a double door, there was nothing but a rectangle gap in the wall; in front of it laid two figures. A young girl with a freckled face had her legs straddled around the hips of a handsome youth. Their bodies intertwined suspiciously on the floor. No matter how one looked at it, it seemed like an obscene incident was transpiring.