’I’m fine, Little Puddle. I’m eating my vegetables and staying away from the bad guys. Put the sword down and relax.’

Having sent her silent message, Ji’an swiped the holographic screen to bring up the main menu: The Quest Log.

The rules of the tournament dictated that each disciple had to complete a set of randomised quests assigned to their token to qualify for the exit portal.

Usually, these quests involved slaying a certain number of beasts, surviving an elemental hazard, or finding a specific hidden landmark.

Ji’an tapped the blinking quest icon. The text unfurled on the screen.

[Candidate #459 - Lin Ji’an (Outer Sect Class 9)]

[Quest 1: Pluck three tail feathers from the elusive Sun-Dappled Pheasant (Must be acquired without killing the beast).]

[Quest 2: Harvest the root of a Weeping Mandrake located in the Murky Swamps.]

[Quest 3: Acquire a pint of nectar from the Hive of the Armoured Murder-Bees.]

[Quest 4: Retrieve the left tusk of a Golden-Horned Boar.]

Ji’an stared at the floating blue text for a long, silent minute.

She blinked. She read it again.

"Is this a joke?" she asked the empty forest. "Did the algorithm glitch? Did someone hack the mainframe?"

She had expected quests like ’Slay a Rank 2 Demon Hound’ or ’Survive the Valley of Blades for 12 Hours.’

Instead, the celestial, all-powerful system of the mighty Sword Sect had given her a shopping list.

"A pheasant? Mandrake root? Honey and a boar tusk?" Ji’an dragged a hand down her face, suppressing a laugh. "This isn’t a survival trial. This is the recipe for a high-grade restorative stew! Are they trolling me? Because I’m in Class 9? Did the Head Elder look at my ’chef’ status and decide to send me to the grocery store?"

She pondered the strangeness of it. Perhaps the Myriad Illusions Realm was sentient.

Perhaps it tailored the quests to the deepest, subconscious aptitudes of the candidate. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Or perhaps the Sect just desperately needed someone to restock the executive dining hall’s pantry and was using the Outer Disciples as free labour.

Whatever the reason, Ji’an wasn’t complaining.

"Pluck a pheasant without killing it?" she mused, tapping her chin. "Easy. A handful of fermented spirit-grain soaked in rice wine, and that bird will be so drunk it’ll hand me the feathers itself."

"Mandrake root? Just need to wear earplugs and pull fast. Excellent for clearing internal heat. The Murder-Bees are tricky, but nothing a little smoke from damp pine needles can’t handle. And the Golden-Horned Boar..."

She patted her Black Iron Spatula affectionately.

"...Well, I guess we’re having pork chops for dinner."

She swiped the screen closed. The token returned to a dull green hum, clipping securely to her belt.

The initial anxiety of the tournament had completely evaporated. The Myriad Illusions Lower Realm wasn’t a nightmare; it was her element.

She had her ingredients, her grocery list, and a squad of hapless classmates to rescue.

"Alright, Myriad Illusions," Ji’an cracked her knuckles, a confident, predatory grin spreading across her face. "Let’s see what you’ve got. But first..."

She checked the sun’s position through the canopy, orienting herself.

"...I need to find Tang Bo and Liu Liu before Tang Bo tries to negotiate with a bear, or Liu Liu tries to put makeup on a venomous snake."

Tightening her apron string and ensuring the Frost-Soul Barrier was secure on her wrist, Lin Ji’an strode deeper into the lush, treacherous paradise.

She didn’t look like a disciple fighting for her life and her future in the Sect. She looked like a chef marching into a busy kitchen on a Friday night, ready to conquer the dinner rush.

And somewhere, thousands of miles away on a floating jade terrace, a terrifying Ice Genius finally let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, his dark eyes fixed intensely on the massive screen projecting the image of a grey-robed cook marching confidently into the unknown.

For the first three hours in the Myriad Illusions Lower Realm, Lin Ji’an was convinced she had accidentally bypassed a survival horror game and spawned directly into a farming simulator.

Her spatial bag was already bulging with culinary treasures.

She had successfully harvested the Weeping Mandrake by stuffing her ears with wax and yanking it out of the mud while singing loudly to drown out its fatal shriek, and she had found a massive patch of Cloud-Silk Truffles growing beneath the roots of an ancient willow tree.

"Perfect," Ji’an hummed to herself, using a small soft-bristled brush to gently clean the dirt from a truffle before depositing it into a jade box. "With these, I can make a broth so rich it’ll make Elder Qin weep. I wonder if Wangchen likes truffles? He seems like a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, but maybe I can sneak some into a dumpling..."

She was currently elbow-deep in a patch of fragrant Sun-Dappled Basil, humming a cheerful tune, completely at peace with the universe.

Then, her belt vibrated violently.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A shrill, mechanical alarm shattered the serene ambience of the forest.

Ji’an jumped, dropping a perfectly good handful of basil. She yanked the green jade Lifeline Token from her belt.

The holographic screen flared to life, flashing a bright, angry crimson.

In the top right corner, the "Squad Status" tab, which linked her token to the other disciples of Class 9, was having a meltdown.

Two names, Tang Bo and Liu Liu, were blinking rapidly. Their heart rates were spiking off the charts, and their spiritual signatures were fluctuating wildly.

"Damn it," Ji’an groaned, dusting the dirt off her knees. "I leave them alone for three hours, and they’ve already managed to walk into the jaws of death. What is it? A Rank 2 Demon Wolf? A carnivorous pitcher plant? A flock of aggressive pigeons?"

She didn’t waste another second. Securing her spatial bag and drawing her Black Iron Spatula, she tapped the locational beacon on the token.

A small golden arrow appeared, pointing directly east.

"Hold on, you useless, wonderful idiots," Ji’an muttered, activating her Shadow Step technique. "Papa is coming."