She plated it into four bowls.

She took one for herself and walked to a clean table. She pointed to the other three bowls on the counter.

"If you want it, wash your hands first," she commanded without looking back.

There was a scramble. The three lazy men practically fought each other to get to the water basin. Moments later, they were sitting around the counter, shoving spoonfuls of rice into their mouths.

"Oh my god!" The Steward moaned. "The texture! The rice is chewy but soft! The egg is fluffy! What is this sorcery?!"

"I haven’t eaten real food in ten years," the second man cried, actual tears streaming down his face. "The Fasting Pills... they taste like chalk... I forgot what happiness was!" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Ji’an ate her own portion calmly. She knew she had them in her pocket by now.

"Steward," Ji’an said between bites.

"Yes, Boss! Anything, Boss!" The Steward, formerly the tyrant of the kitchen, had surrendered completely.

"Tomorrow, I want you to go to the logistics department. Use the budget you’ve been embezzling, yes, I know you have it, to buy fresh pork belly and bamboo shoots."

"Done!" The Steward promised. "I’ll buy the whole pig!"

"Good," Ji’an smiled. "Because tomorrow, we’re not just feeding ourselves. We’re starting a delivery service."

***

Night fell completely. The staff, full and docile, had gone to sleep in their quarters, dreaming of fried rice.

Ji’an sat alone in the gleaming kitchen. The silence was heavy.

Usually, this was the time she would tease Wangchen. She would poke him, ask him for water, or use him as a pillow. Now, the only sound was the settling of the stone building.

She reached into her spatial bag and pulled out a small, wooden bento box.

It was the last meal Wangchen had made for her before the Aptitude Test. Cold braised beef and steamed buns.

She opened it. It still smelled faintly of him, clean and simple.

"System," she whispered. "Open the Monitoring Window."

[Ding! Consuming 50 Points to view Target: Xie Wangchen.]

A holographic screen flickered to life in front of her.

The image was stark. It showed a massive cavern composed entirely of blue ice. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like daggers. The air in the image was so cold it looked like white fog.

In the center of the cavern, sitting on a block of ice, was Xie Wangchen.

He was stripped to the waist. His skin was pale, almost blending in with the ice. Frost covered his eyelashes and hair.

He was meditating, but his expression was not peaceful. His brows were furrowed, and his lips were pressed into a thin, painful line.

The Winter’s Sigh sword lay across his knees. The white tassel she had given him was frozen stiff, but his hand was resting over it, as if trying to keep it warm.

[Target Status:]

[Physical Condition: Stable (Adapting to Extreme Yin Energy).]

[Mental State: Turbulent.]

[Current Thought: "Is he eating? Is he cold? Is that Merchant guy bothering him?"]

[Blackening Value: 38% (Holding steady, but Loneliness is increasing).]

Ji’an stared at the screen, picking up a cold piece of beef with her chopsticks.

"Idiot," she whispered, her chest tightening. "Focus on your cultivation. Stop worrying about me."

She watched him shiver slightly. The Eternal Ice Cave was brutal.

It was designed to strip away weakness, but it also stripped away warmth.

She took a bite of the beef. It was tough and chewy, nothing compared to her cooking. But to her, it tasted better than the fried rice.

"System," Ji’an asked. "Can I send items to him?"

[System: Not directly. However, the ’Same-Sect Delivery Crane’ service is available for disciples. But the Eternal Cloud Peak is restricted.]

"Restricted means hard, not impossible," Ji’an murmured.

She looked at the screen again. Wangchen opened his eyes in the simulation.

He looked at the empty cave entrance, a look of profound disappointment crossing his face, before he closed them again.

Ji’an slammed the bento box shut.

"Okay. That’s it."

She stood up, her eyes blazing with determination.

"Steward!" she shouted, her voice waking the fat man in the next room.

"Y-Yes? Fire? Attack?" The Steward stumbled in, half-asleep.

"Get up," Ji’an ordered, grabbing her spatula. "We’re making Spicy Spirit-Lamb Hotpot Base."

"Now?" The Steward rubbed his eyes. "For who?"

"For the Ice Block on the mountain," Ji’an said, tying her apron. "I don’t care if I have to bribe a crane, seduce a guard, or climb the cliff myself. He is getting a hot meal by sunrise."

She looked back at the holographic screen, where the lonely villain sat in the dark.

"You want to blacken because you’re lonely?" Ji’an scoffed, lighting the stove with a snap of her fingers. "Try feeling lonely with a belly full of Chili Oil. Game on, Plot. Game on."

The kitchen erupted into activity once more, the fires roaring against the cold night, fueled by the most powerful force in the cultivation world: A foodie on a mission.

.

.

.

The Cloud-Piercing Arena of the Inner Sect was a masterpiece of architectural arrogance.

Carved from a single massive slab of white spirit-jade, it hovered slightly above the mountain peak, anchored by four massive bronze chains that disappeared into the clouds.

The air here was thin, crisp, and vibrated with the raw, unfiltered Qi of the mountain’s meridian.

For the newly inducted Inner Disciples, this was the summit of their young lives. They stood in clusters, their new uniforms that were pristine white robes embroidered with the silver cloud motifs of the sect, fluttering in the high-altitude wind.

They postured, compared swords, and tried to look as if they belonged to the elite.

In the center of the largest cluster stood the sun itself: Gu Zhiwei.

The "Holy Son" with the Sun Spirit Root was impossible to ignore. He radiated a natural, warm luminescence that drew people in like moths to a flame.

Male disciples wanted to be his sworn brothers, while the female disciples wanted to catch his eye.