6:00 AM, Thursday
Iron Fang Tavern, Crush Fang Quarter
There was a certain kind of silence that came after a long-ass day of killing things and making them taste good.
Also, shopping for new beds, because apparently, in this reincarnated life, Lonfan had decided her divine mission was to break every bedframe in existence like a goddamn Kit-Kat bar.
The fire pit was low, casting a soft amber glow beneath the stove. The tavern was clean. Dishes scrubbed. Prep locked down. That rare, perfect moment where nothing smelled like blood, smoke, or pepper oil—just warm wood, faint spice, and tired satisfaction.
Gazei had one leg thrown over the side of a chair, leaning back with a damp towel across his shoulders and a cold bottle sweating in his hand. His hair was still a mess from the post-hunt rinse, tattoos catching the faint lantern-light with every lazy breath he took.
Lonfan was at the bar, wiping down a row of shot glasses she had zero intention of using today. Her long red hair was damp, curled at the ends, and she was wearing one of his oversized shirts—the one she'd "borrowed" months ago and never gave back—half-buttoned over black shorts. One hand wiped glass; the other clutched a lowball of something dark, mean, and definitely illegal in several provinces.
For once, they weren't moving. They were just… there.
No monsters. No screaming customers. No flying cleavers.
Just quiet.
[Host... Hostess.]
And just like that, the quiet was gone.
"Fuckin' finally," Lonfan muttered, setting down the glass with a sharp click. "I was gettin' bored."
Gazei rolled his eyes. "Woman, how the hell can you get bored after the shit we did yesterday? We literally decapitated giant frogs."
"That was yesterday, husband. Today's a new day to fuck up something else."
The system continued, its voice as cheerfully monotonous as ever.
[Today marks another step on your path to becoming the God and Goddess of Cooking. Yesterday, your hunting trip proved successful. The cores have improved with your spirits.]
Gazei scowled mildly at the floating text. He was really starting to think their system was broken or something. Every morning, the same goddamn positivity. But before he could voice any complaints, the glowing notification shimmered and changed color, flashing brighter.
[System Reward unlocked:]
[For Host: Jingubang (如意金箍棒), the legendary staff forged by the Monkey King, Sun Wukong himself.]
[For Hostess: Twin Phoenix Blade-Fans, a set of dual war-fans forged from the wings of the Immortal Crimson Phoenix.]
[Additionally awarded: One set of the Black Dragon Cooking Set, including the Derous Kitchen Knife, one Leodragon Egg, and one Oro Swamp Crocodile Egg.]
The announcement hung in the air between them. Silence settled in again, thicker now, charged.
"Holy shit," Gazei whispered, almost dropping his beer.
Lonfan didn't whisper—she practically shouted. "Yo, husband! You see the 411 on that fuckin' knife?"
Gazei blinked, staring at the set of equipment now neatly arranged on the prep table behind the counter. The Derous Kitchen Knife gleamed ominously, the blade dark as midnight, etched with silver runes shimmering faintly in the low light. It radiated a strange, intoxicating energy.
"Fuck the knife," Gazei breathed, his eyes locking onto the thick, ornate staff resting alongside it. The Jingubang was enormous, its surface etched with ancient characters. Despite its obvious weight and size, something about it felt... right.
Lonfan ignored him, eyes sparkling with a hunger that had nothing to do with cooking or sex for once. She moved forward slowly, fingertips brushing the sleek, terrifyingly sharp edge of the Derous blade. "Forget sex tonight. I'm marrying this knife."
"I knew you'd leave me for shark objects eventually," Gazei grumbled, but he couldn't help the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Next to the knife were two neatly wrapped eggs, each one pulsing faintly with life, protected by silk cloth and glowing dimly with inner Qi. One shone a deep amber-gold, the Leodragon egg; the other was deep jade-green, streaked through with darker veins, the Oro Swamp Crocodile egg.
"Damn," Gazei murmured, fingers twitching. "This is some next-level shit."
Lonfan leaned in, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. "You know what this means, right?"
Gazei sighed dramatically. "More work?"
"Better food. Better fights. Better sex," she said without missing a beat. "Now stop bitchin' and go swing that big-ass stick."
"You always say the most romantic shit."
She smirked. "And don't you forget it."
Gazei chuckled, downed the rest of his beer, and stood up with a groan. "I'm the guy. I'm supposed to be the horny one. A female Van Wilder meets Charlie Sheen is... incredulously fuckin' sexy as hell—but still, it's a guy thing."
Lonfan flipped her husband the bird, snatched up her new Twin Phoenix Blade-Fans, and twirled them expertly, flames briefly licking at the edges. "Sucks to suck, yo sexy muthafucka!"
"Whatever. System, explain to us what the hell this cookin' set you gave us actually does?" Gazei demanded. It was way too early in the morning for his wife's horny machinations. Thank the gods (also fuck 'em) Rin and the others didn't reincarnate with them—otherwise, he'd be permanently trapped in the bedroom.
[Host, to answer your question: The Black Dragon Cooking Set is a divine cooking utility created by the Jade Court of Heaven's Head God of Cooking, Tian Shen. The set includes pots, pans, knives, cutting boards, and a Legendary Divine Kitchen Upgrade.]
"Nice shit," Gazei and Lonfan said simultaneously.
[Nice shit indeed. Host and Hostess, the path of cooking is not easy. Neither is the path of Buddha. Grow strong, take risks, and enjoy your lives. New Side Mission: Serve 100 customers, refine your cores, and earn 100,000 gold in revenue.]
"Ayo, what the fuck?" Gazei shouted incredulously. "I barely remember this world's currency 'cause it's bullshit, and the author's got ADHD to fully remember the value of the this world currency. You want us to earn that much money? We have literally one customer—"
"Husband, stop actin' like those fuckers hittin' on my fine ass last month and take the challenge like a man!" Lonfan had stars in her eyes. Finally, a real challenge.
"Bitch, you don't give a damn about cookin' or fighin' Buddha or whatever the fuck the system's throwin' at us! All you wanna do is sleep with every hot girl and fairy you please. Than you make me break those simps and bitches into slaves to the cock for your sick and twisted roleplays!"
"Damn straight! But you know I love fightin' too. All Asians love fightin'! You fuck me and Rin so you can't say shit!"
Gazei—and even the system itself—sweatdropped at her beautifully delivered words. Both were pretty sure that answer was completely racist.
Yang Xiaolong still couldn't believe it. He was back home in his meditation chamber, utterly amazed by his progress. Bread, cheese, tofu, ink—it was absurd. Yet these simple ingredients had given him so much Qi energy, so pure it borderline resembled true immortal Qi.
"I'm at the very edge," he whispered. "The breakthrough to third grade—I'm so close, and at this age..."
Yang Xiaolong recalled vividly the taste and sensation of that simple dish he ate at Iron Fang Tavern. It was heavenly. Wonderful. Thanks to that meal, Yang Xiaolong stood on the verge of cultivating 50 years ahead of schedule.
Unknown to most, cultivation cores had various sub-ranks. Cultivators had to spend days, months, sometimes even years to move through these incremental stages. The purity of the energy determined how quickly the core advanced, and the purer one's cultivation, the higher one could climb.
At just twenty-five years old, Yang Xiaolong had channeled so much Qi from that one meal it had purified and reshaped his foundation. Energy overflowed outward, becoming Otherworld Qi—the ambient energy found naturally throughout the world.
"Is that… is that Young Master Yang's Qi?" one muttered, wide-eyed. He was new, barely in the first stage of cultivation, but even he could feel the thick aura leaking from the chamber like waves of incense smoke.
"Such pressure… such purity," an elder servant whispered, clutching his chest. "When… when did the young master attain such a state?"
"This can't be normal. Was he given a sacred pill?"
"No one entered the chamber."
"Then… how?"
They stood still in the halls, backs straight, sensing it—revering it. The air around them pulsed with golden energy. Windows fogged. Lantern flames flickered. Birds outside the estate grew quiet. All of nature seemed to bow to it.
Back in the chamber, Yang Xiaolong floated still above the crystalline pond. His hair swayed gently in the spiritual wind. His skin shimmered like polished jade. His robes rustled though there was no breeze.
And in his chest, his core beat steadily, glowing white-hot with power.
A burst of energy rushed out, flooding through the chamber like a gentle hurricane. It washed over the lotus blossoms floating serenely on the crystal pond, lighting each petal with an ethereal glow. The ripples carried outward, resonating with the ancient runes etched into the marble walls of the meditation chamber. The golden luminescence seeped into each carved symbol, illuminating them in a cascading dance of intricate brilliance.
Yang Xiaolong inhaled deeply, feeling his core tremble with newfound purity. His meridians expanded effortlessly, absorbing the overflow of energy and reinforcing their pathways. It felt like breathing crystal-clear mountain air after years of choking on smog. For a moment, everything in the chamber stood still, suspended in a state of perfect, harmonious silence.
Then the energy crashed back inward, condensing sharply into Xiaolong's core. His body tensed, fingers gripping the lotus pad beneath him. Pain surged briefly, intense but fleeting, before dissolving into a blissful warmth that suffused every fiber of his being.
This is it. This is what a breakthrough feels like.
Yang Xiaolong gasped softly as the final wave of energy solidified. His Qi stabilized, no longer wavering at the edge, now firmly anchored in the third grade. The ambient Qi settled quietly around him, pulsing rhythmically like a steady heartbeat.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
They glowed briefly, pure and radiant like polished jade, before returning to their normal, warm brown hue. Xiaolong exhaled, feeling oddly light, calm, and centered. He rose gracefully from the lotus pad, standing steadily atop the crystal pond's shimmering surface without even disturbing a ripple.
Yang Xiaolong stared down at his reflection. He looked different now—stronger, more mature. Yet, he knew this transformation wasn't merely external. This was a fundamental shift, a refining of his very essence.
He smiled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I must return to Iron Fang Tavern," he murmured to himself, determination hardening his voice. "I must know more about their dishes. About that couple."
However, before Yang Xiaolong could rise and leave, the doors to his meditation chamber burst open.
"Brother! By the Jade Palace, what is the matter with you?!" A voice even more beautiful than Yang's called out, the tone somewhere between graceful and exasperated.
Yang Xiaolong froze instantly, his blood running cold. That voice, beautiful as a melody yet sharp as a blade, belonged to only one person.
"Elder Sister—"
His words abruptly halted as a razor-sharp dagger whistled past his ear, slicing a lock of his neatly kept hair before embedding itself deeply into the wall behind him with a resonating thunk. He swallowed hard, his eyes widening with sudden fear.
Standing in the doorway was his elder twin sister by exactly five minutes—a fact she never let him forget. Yin Xiaolong was a renowned beauty throughout the Imperial City, her hair cascading in liquid gold waves down her slender back, her violet eyes cold enough to freeze rivers, and a figure that even their famously graceful mother envied. At this moment, however, elegance had stepped aside in favor of barely restrained fury.
She stormed forward, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor, violet eyes flashing dangerously. Her luxurious white gown flowed behind her, embroidered with shimmering silver patterns that caught the ambient glow of Qi radiating from the chamber.
"What nonsense have you been up to?" she snapped, her voice colder than mountain ice. "Explain clearly why I'm hearing you've wagered my hand in marriage against that brute Ban Tan Lu, or next time my dagger won't miss—and you'll officially become my flat-chested little sister!"
He stumbled backward, hands raised defensively. "Elder Sister, please calm down! Let me explain—I was simply defending your honor!"
Her glare softened slightly, replaced momentarily by curiosity. "Explain yourself. Quickly."
"Ban Tan Lu had the nerve to claim he was worthy of you," he began hastily. "He spoke shameful, vulgar things he'd do if you were his! How could I endure such insults? Of course, I challenged him!"
"And just how," she demanded skeptically, crossing her arms, "did you plan to best Ban Tan Lu? Or did you expect to shame our family by losing?"
A proud smile spread across his handsome face. "I've broken through, Elder Sister. I'm now third-grade Golden Qi—a Force Dancer! My rank has advanced!"
She faltered for a brief moment, genuine surprise flashing across her flawless features. Yin Xiaolong was intimately familiar with her brother's limited talent. Yang Xiaolong had been hopelessly stuck at second-grade Golden Qi for four long years. For him to suddenly leap forward, especially to third-grade Force Dancer at merely twenty-five years old, was utterly unheard of.
"Nonsense," Yin Xiaolong finally scoffed, regaining her composure. "Did you foolishly waste your savings on some ridiculous pill?"
Yang Xiaolong shook his head fervently. "No pill, no elixir, no tricks, Elder Sister. It was food!"
She stared at him flatly. "Food?"
"Exactly!" Yang Xiaolong's eyes sparkled with excitement. "There's a tavern in the Crush Fang Quarter—the Iron Fang Tavern. It looks run-down and shabby, but I swear on the Jade Palace, the food was extraordinary. Bread, cheese, tofu, even ink… these humble ingredients somehow granted me immense, pure Qi! It cleansed my foundation and allowed me to break through decades earlier than expected!"
Yin Xiaolong stared at her brother with increasing disbelief. "Brother, have you finally lost your mind? Do you expect me to believe some filthy back-alley tavern served you food more potent than a Saint-tier pill?"
Yang Xiaolong nodded vigorously, almost bouncing with excitement. "Elder Sister, you must taste it yourself! The owners—a strange, dark-skinned man named Gazei and his fierce, beautiful wife Lonfan—are no ordinary cultivators. They're masters of culinary arts beyond anything I've experienced."
His enthusiasm was so palpable that he began to drool slightly, vividly recalling the exquisite taste of the pesto flatbread, the lingering sensation on his tongue.
Watching him, Yin Xiaolong rolled her eyes, disgust mingling with reluctant amusement. She shook her head slowly. "Pathetic. Just when I believed you'd finally grown up, you've become a drooling fool over street food."
"No, Elder Sister! You don't understand!" Yang Xiaolong pleaded desperately. "Come with me! Taste it yourself—you'll see!"
She huffed softly, arms folded tightly beneath her chest. Her violet eyes glinted thoughtfully, curiosity faint but unmistakable beneath her pride.
"Fine," she finally said. "We shall see exactly how good this miraculous food truly is."
Yang Xiaolong nearly shouted in triumph, excitement radiating from every pore. Yin sighed again, wondering just what insanity her younger brother had dragged her into this time