Lu Jianheng, the Sword Lord, had taken it upon himself to catch this "Phantom." He spent his nights patrolling the garden, sword drawn, eyes bloodshot.
"I know it’s him," Lu Jianheng muttered to a confused bush. "He’s mocking . He steals the ingredients right under my nose to make soup. I will catch him. And then... and then I will force him to duel ! And maybe share the soup!"
But every ti he got close, he would slip on a conveniently placed banana peel, wondering where he even got bananas in this climate?
Or get distracted by an explosion of flour.
Ji’an was ghosting the Sword Lord so hard it was becoming a spectator sport for the squirrels.
But the "Phantom" title wasn’t her only moniker. There was a worse one.
The Flower Thief.
It happened on a Tuesday. Ji’an needed fresh eggs for a soufflé, and in this world, the best eggs ca from the Vermilion Birds of the Beast Peak.
She had sneaked into the aviary, intending to barter. There, she t Junior Sister Lan, a shy disciple who was struggling to calm a raging Spirit-Ostrich.
Ji’an, channeling her "Custor Service Persona," had stepped in. She used food to lure the beast instead of sheer force. She fed the ostrich a spicy treat that cald it down instantly.
Then, she turned to Sister Lan.
"Beautiful creatures require a gentle hand," Ji’an had said, wiping sweat from her forehead with a roguish grin. "And I’m not talking about the bird."
She ant that Sister Lan needed to be gentle.
Sister Lan, however, interpreted it as: "You are beautiful, let hold your hand."
She had fainted.
When she woke up, the "handso gray-robed brother" was gone, leaving behind a basket of polished spirit-stones in exchange for the eggs.
Rumors spread like wildfire.
"He has a smile that makes you forget your cultivation!"
"He walked into the weaving hall, complinted my embroidery, and I accidentally knitted a scarf for him!"
"He’s a nace! A heart-stealer! Hide your daughters! Hide your spirit-chickens!"
Ji’an was oblivious. She just thought people were being really helpful lately.
Back in the Outer Sect Kitchen, the atmosphere was chaotic for a different reason.
"Brother Lin! Brother Lin! Look!"
Gu Zhiwei burst through the kitchen doors, creating a dramatic entrance of sunlight and sparkles.
He was wearing his Elite Direct Disciple robes, but he had tied a crude apron over them that said "Kiss the Cook", which was a gift from Ji’an, ant as a joke, but the latter seed to have taken it very seriously.
"I did it!" Gu Zhiwei held up a basket. "I peeled the potatoes! All of them!"
Ji’an looked up from her wok, where she was stir-frying Spicy Mapo Tofu.
She looked at the basket.
The potatoes were peeled. But they were also... square.
"Gu Zhiwei," Ji’an sighed, pointing with her ladle. "Why are they cubes? Potatoes are round. Nature made them round."
"I used my Sword Intent!" Gu Zhiwei bead, wiping a smudge of starch from his nose. "I wanted them to be uniform! Master says precision is the key to the Dao!"
"You used... Sun-Severing Sword Intent... to cube potatoes?" Ji’an massaged her temples. "That’s like using a nuclear bomb to open a walnut. You’re scaring the vegetables."
"But are you proud?" Gu Zhiwei blinked his big, golden eyes.
Ji’an looked at the hopeful Protagonist. He had skipped his own training to co here and followed her everywhere.
If she went to the market, he was there carrying her bags. If she went to the library, he was there holding the ladder.
He was a duckling.
A very powerful, nuclear-powered duckling.
"Yes," Ji’an lied. "Good job. Now wash the spinach without using a sword intent. Use your hands, like a mortal."
"Yes, Chef!" Gu Zhiwei saluted and skipped over to the sink.
In the corner, the Steward whispered to his underling. "Is that... the Holy Son? The future leader of the Holy Empire?"
"Yeah," the underling whispered back. "He’s washing spinach. Boss Lin is terrifying. He enslaved the Holy Son."
The temperature in the kitchen plumted.
The boiling water in the pots stopped bubbling. The steam froze in mid-air.
Gu Zhiwei stopped skipping.
The kitchen doors opened again. This ti, they didn’t bang open. They swung silently, admitting a figure wrapped in an aura of absolute zero.
Xie Wangchen walked in.
He was wearing his Ice-Silk robes. He looked like a god of winter descending into the mortal realm. His eyes swept the room, instantly locking onto two things:
Lin Ji’an.
And Gu Zhiwei.
"You are here again," Wangchen said, his voice flat.
Gu Zhiwei turned around, holding a bunch of wet spinach. "Brother Xie! You’re early today! Did you finish your ditation?"
"I finished," Wangchen said, walking past him. He deliberately bumped hard against Gu Zhiwei’s shoulder.
"Oof!" Gu Zhiwei stumbled, dropping a spinach leaf.
Wangchen ignored him and walked straight to Ji’an. The frost aura vanished the mont he entered her personal space.
"Young Master," Wangchen said softly.
"You’re early," Ji’an smiled, flipping the tofu. "What, are you hungry?"
"I have been starving," Wangchen lied. He had eaten a pill earlier, not that those pills can compare to her cooking. He would eat rocks if she cooked them.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, velvet pouch.
"I found this," he said, placing it on the counter.
Ji’an opened it. Inside were three glowing Snow-Lotuses.
Her eyes widened. "Wangchen! These are Rank 4 herbs! Did you rob the Sect Vault?"
"I found them growing in the wilderness," Wangchen said with a straight face.
Though sowhere on the Eternal Cloud Peak, Elder Qin was currently screaming about his missing prize flowers.
"Wild? In the snow?" Ji’an looked skeptical, but the ingredient greed took over. "Okay, fine. I won’t ask. Sit down. Today’s special is Mapo Tofu with Snow-Lotus infusion."
Wangchen sat at the "VIP Table", a clean stool near the stove, as he watched Ji’an cook.
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