Deep within a dense forest, amidst overlapping mountain peaks, a bare-chested, simple-looking young man stood before a towering ancient tree so thick it would take five people to encircle. In one hand, he held a rust-spotted chopper.
Sunlight stread down, illuminating a robust physique that seed carved from stone. His well-defined muscles, like coiled dragons, glead under the light.
"Hah!"
The young man crouched, let out a low cry, and lunged like a beast uncaged, swinging his chopper at the great tree.
CRACK!
In an instant, the massive tree snapped cleanly at its base and toppled forward.
The force behind that single strike must have exceeded ten thousand pounds.
Yet the young man acted as if it were a trivial matter. He swiftly lopped off the excess branches, splitting the trunk into logs of firewood, each about a foot long and as thick as a man’s arm.
The firewood he chopped from that one massive tree ford a pile the size of a small hill.
The young man gathered so nearby vines. After bundling the firewood, he glanced around to make sure no one was there.
After a mont of contemplation, he plucked a single hair from his head and tossed it into the air.
He raised his woodchip-covered chopper and began to strike with blinding speed.
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
In that mont, the forest filled with flashes from his blade. Gone was any trace of the simple-looking boy. His eyes glead with a sharp light, his expression one of intense focus. He was like a divine sword drawn from its scabbard, his sharp edge laid bare.
His swings were so fast that all one could see were countless afterimages streaking through the air.
Large beads of sweat rolled down his face. Thick veins pulsed on his arms from the sheer force of his exertion, but he paid them no mind. He continued swinging for the ti it takes half a stick of incense to burn.
"Hoo..."
Lowering his chopper, the young man let out a long sigh of relief. He put on his shirt, shouldered the hill-sized bundle of firewood, and began a leisurely descent down the mountain.
No one knew that in the spot where he had swung his chopper, a single strand of hair had been split into 13,600 filants. Each filant was precisely the sa length as the original hair, scattered on the ground, too fine to be seen by the naked eye.
’I did it! Thirteen thousand, six hundred filants. Uncle Niu, did you see that from up in the heavens? I finally did it!’
Mo Qi steadied himself, adjusted the hill-sized bundle of firewood on his back, and wiped his tear-filled eyes.
’Uncle Niu, I know you were just worried I couldn’t handle the blow of being unable to cultivate, so you made up that lie for . You told that when I could split a single hair into thirteen thousand, six hundred filants, my Sword Skill would have reached Great Success. You said that even if I couldn’t sense Spiritual Energy or cultivate, I would still win the favor of the Sect.’
’You probably never thought I could actually do it, did you? Thirteen thousand, six hundred! How could you even say such an absurd number? We’re talking about a single strand of hair!’
’I don’t rember what my mother looked like, but I rember one thing she told . She nad Mo Qi, telling it ans to never, ever give up, no matter how great the hardship!’
’Five years! I’ve been practicing this for five whole years!’
’Don’t you worry, Uncle Niu. I have no interest in practicing the Martial Dao or cultivation. I’ll fulfill your wish for you. I’ll carry on the Niu Family’s craft and make it famous. In the na of the Kitchen God, I will make your na resound across the continent!’
Mo Qi, head chef of the Void Sect, just turned sixteen this year.
The title sounded impressive, but in truth, he was just a servant at the Void Sect, responsible for cooking als for its disciples.
The Void Sect was one of the Four Great Sects in the Mountain and Sea Empire. When Mo Qi was just a boy, he got separated from his family. Uncle Niu, a Kitchen Hand from the sect who was visiting his hotown, found him. Taking pity on the boy, he brought him back up the mountain.
From that day forward, Mo Qi stayed with Uncle Niu, becoming a young servant in the Void Sect. Ten years had passed in this way.
The Void Sect had a rule: any servant who completed ten years of service would have an opportunity to truly join the sect and beco an Official Disciple.
However, this required passing a series of tests, and these trials were not without risk.
Five years ago, after completing his decade of service, Uncle Niu attempted to beco an Official Disciple. He failed the trial and never returned.
Mo Qi subsequently took his place, becoming the sect’s main cook.
While the Void Sect didn’t place much importance on its servants, it did provide them with a Basic Cultivation Technique to strengthen their bodies so they could better serve the sect.
Mo Qi had tried to practice it, but in ten years, he had never been able to sense the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Energy ntioned in the technique. In other words, he had no talent for cultivation.
In a world where the Martial Dao reigned and strength was everything, being unable to cultivate ant you would never get ahead. You were dood to a life at the bottom of society, performing the most nial labor.
The greatest dream for most people was to join a sect, achieve success in their cultivation, and stand above the masses.
This was precisely why Uncle Niu, fearing Mo Qi couldn’t handle the blow, had concocted his beautiful lie.
What Uncle Niu never realized was that Mo Qi had no interest in practicing martial arts, cultivation, or the world of fighting and killing. His true passion was cooking.
For Mo Qi held a secret, one he had never dared to tell a soul.
The year he was separated from his mother, he had co down with a high fever, grown delirious, and fallen unconscious.
By the ti he awoke, Uncle Niu had already brought him to the Void Sect. Moreover, there was sothing new in his mind: the Chaos Scripture.
Because the characters for "Chaos" were written in a ssy scrawl, and influenced by Uncle Niu’s status as a cook, Mo Qi mistook them for the similar-looking word for "wonton."
Mo Qi thought he’d hit the jackpot, receiving a divinely bestowed cookbook, and he didn’t dare breathe a word of it to anyone.
Strangely, from that day on, he felt a soul-deep familiarity with every ingredient in the kitchen.
Despite never having seen many of them before, their nas, origins, properties, and ideal pairings would spontaneously surface in his mind.
With this gift, he learned all of Uncle Niu’s culinary skills in just a few short months. In fact, the student soon surpassed the master; the dishes Mo Qi cooked earned endless praise from Uncle Niu, a man who had been a chef his entire life.
This was how, after Uncle Niu’s death, he beca the head chef of the Void Sect.
Even many of the sect’s most senior experts, who had long practiced Fasting and abstained from food for years, would occasionally command him to prepare a feast to satisfy a rare craving.
As a result, he received many rewards from these powerful figures, such as Elixirs that aided cultivation, written insights, and more.
But he never consud these Elixirs himself. Instead, he gave them all to a girl nad Fang Min.
Fang Min was the daughter of the Chief Steward of Miscellaneous Affairs. She was pretty and had a gentle temperant. At fifteen, she was a year younger than Mo Qi.
The two had beco friends shortly after Uncle Niu brought Mo Qi to the Void Sect, and they had grown up playing together.
Unlike Mo Qi, however, Fang Min possessed a talent for cultivation—and a considerable one at that.
She often told Mo Qi that once she passed the trial and beca an Official Disciple of the Void Sect, she would bring him into the inner sect, free him from his status as a servant, and they would be together forever.
Though Mo Qi never said so, he was secretly overjoyed and eagerly awaited that day.
He didn’t care about his status as a servant. He only cared about Fang Min. As long as he could be with her, he would have gladly remained a servant for the rest of his life.
After handing off the firewood, Mo Qi returned to his quarters.
From a distance, he saw several figures loitering by his door. One of them looked very familiar.
"Min’er, you ca!" Mo Qi broke into a guileless grin and hurried forward. The familiar, lovely figure was indeed Fang Min.
He pulled a small vial from his shirt, offered it to Fang Min, and smiled. "Here, this is the reward I got for delivering Master Yu’s al yesterday. It’s for you."
The vial contained ten Qi Gathering Pills, which were suitable for Cultivators just starting on the Martial Dao.
This sa scene had played out countless tis over the past few years.
To help Fang Min with her cultivation so she could beco an Official Disciple of the Void Sect sooner, Mo Qi would rack his brain every ti he delivered a al to an important figure, trying to invent new dishes and do whatever it took to please those powerful experts.
He did it all just to earn so rewards that he could then give to Fang Min.
Any other ti, Fang Min would have already taken the vial with a joyful cry, thrown herself into his arms, and cooed, "Brother Mo!"
Today, however, Fang Min kept her head lowered and didn’t reach for it.
Her expression was strange—a mixture of guilt and sha, but mostly, resolve.
"Hm?" Mo Qi froze, sensing sothing was wrong. "Min’er, what is it?" he asked with concern. "Are you not feeling well?"
He failed to notice the disdainful smirks on the faces of the others who had co with her. They were all dressed in the robes of Official Disciples of the Void Sect.
Fang Min took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for a decision. She lifted her head to look Mo Qi in the eye. "Brother Mo, I passed the Sect’s trial today."
"Really? That’s amazing!" Mo Qi was ecstatic. This had been Fang Min’s greatest wish for years.
He stepped forward, intending to take her hands and celebrate like they always did, but she took a step back, avoiding his touch.
"Min’er...?" Mo Qi was utterly bewildered. He had no idea what was going on with her.
"Enough, you worthless cook," a voice sneered. "From today on, Sister Min is an Official Disciple of the Void Sect. Stop embarrassing yourself with those Qi Gathering Pills. They’re trash that barely even qualify as Elixirs; only a pauper like you would treasure them. In the future, Sister Min’s cultivation will use proper Elixirs, like the Qi Gathering Pill and the Spiritual Essence Pill! Don’t be a toad lusting after a swan’s flesh. Now get lost and go back to being a cook."
The speaker was a tall, handso young man standing behind Fang Min. With a face as fair as polished jade, he wrapped an arm around her waist and looked down at Mo Qi with a mocking smirk.
He was Wang Hao, the grandson of the Void Sect’s Third Elder. His status was prominent, his talent was exceptional, and he was ranked among the top ten of the younger generation.
As Wang Hao’s arm wrapped around her waist, Fang Min’s body stiffened for a mont, but she did not pull away.
"That’s right! When she passed the trial, Sister-in-law Fang Min achieved a 70% completion score—the work of a genius, the highest score in decades! She’s destined to beco a Divine Phoenix soaring through the nine heavens. And our Brother Hao is a dragon among n. They’re a perfect match! Give them ti, and their nas will surely shake the entire Mountain and Sea Empire!"
The lackeys behind Wang Hao continued to heap praise on him while simultaneously belittling Mo Qi.
"Then look at you. A piece of trash. A lowly servant. You’ll spend the rest of your life cooking, doing a woman’s work."
Mo Qi stood as if struck by lightning, dumbfounded.
’Why? Why is this happening?’
’Thinking back on the last ten years with Fang Min... was it all a lie?’
He refused to believe it, but her silence and inaction forced the truth upon him.
He stared at Fang Min, desperate to hear the words from her own lips.
As if sensing his thoughts, Fang Min spoke softly. "I’m sorry. We’re not from the sa world."
"Heh..." A wretched laugh escaped Mo Qi’s lips as he stumbled backward. He clutched at his chest, a pain like ten thousand swords piercing his heart making it impossible to breathe.
’Not from the sa world?’
’Why didn’t you say that before? Why didn’t you say that when you were sweetly begging for Elixir Pills for your cultivation?’
’Why did you give all those false promises?!’
PFFT—
Overco with rage and grief, Mo Qi felt a surge in his chest and spat out a mouthful of blood.
Two lines of tears stread down his face. A man does not shed tears lightly, but only when his heart is truly broken.
SMASH!
The small vial in his hand shattered. Shards of porcelain dug into his palm, drawing blood, but Mo Qi didn’t seem to feel it. Compared to the pain in his heart, a wound like this was nothing.
"Why?" Mo Qi asked, his voice raw.
His wretched state made Fang Min flinch with a montary pang of pity, but the thought of the future gulf between their statuses quickly turned her gaze cold again.
"What a pitiful, naive fool," Wang Hao sneered. "Before, Sister Min was a phoenix stuck in a chicken coop, gathering her strength to soar. The only reason she wasted so much ti playing along with you was for those pathetic Cultivation Resources you could get. Did you actually think you were sobody?"
Then, Wang Hao slapped his own forehead. "Oh, but look at , how forgetful. You’re right, in a way, you do deserve so credit for helping Sister Min return to the heavens. How about this? Take this bottle of Spiritual Essence Pill as a reward. It’s worth tens of thousands of your little Qi Gathering Pills. And rember this: from now on, Sister Min owes you nothing."
A high-quality Jade Bottle landed at Mo Qi’s feet. With his arm around Fang Min, Wang Hao swaggered away, his cronies following close behind.
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