The Villainess Eats Mala Tang
The kitchen was a slaughterhouse. The floor was awash in a viscous, screaming-red liquid. Chopped meat, splintered bones, slick organs, and unidentifiable chunks floated in the mess like victims of a massacre. The stench was so foul that everyone instinctively clapped hands over their mouths and noses. One poor soul with a weaker stomach even let out a wet urgh of a gag.
And the perpetrator of this culinary crime was the one screaming, a knife with a blue-glinting edge still clenched in his fist.
“It wasn’t me! There’s no way I did it! It couldn’t have been me!”
Cheong stared at the disaster and thought, What a waste. Why the hell did he throw away perfectly good food?
Mala oil spread across the floor in greasy puddles, carrying sad little pieces of meat, vegetables, tofu, and noodles that bobbed along like drowning rats.
In a thoroughly displeased voice, Cheong snapped, “Hey. What do you mean, it wasn’t you? Aren’t you supposed to be the Greatest Chef Under Heaven or whatever?”
“Yes, I am Baek Chang-ja, the Greatest Chef Under Heaven. And this… this is garbage. Why? Why doesn’t it taste right? This isn’t the flavor it should be. What’s wrong? Is it the broth? No, it’s perfect. Did the spices go bad? No. The aged meat? That can’t be it either.”
The Greatest Chef Under Heaven, Baek Chang-ja, muttered to himself with deranged eyes, snatching up ingredients left and right, sniffing them frantically.
“What is it? Everything’s perfect! They’re all perfect!”
“Look, I get that something’s wrong, but why did you have to dump it all over the floor? Don’t you feel bad wasting food like that?”
Cheong still hadn’t shaken off the memories of her early days in this world, back when she’d dug through trash just to eat. That scar she would carry for the rest of her life kept feeding her pathological obsession with not wasting a single bite.
“No! This isn’t food! It’s garbage!”
“You’re the one who turned it into garbage, though.”
“What?! I made garbage?! How dare you speak that way to Baek Chang-ja, the Greatest Chef Under Heaven!”
Cheong casually held out her hand to the side. Choe-ri-ong produced the Boksinjeok from somewhere and placed it in her palm. Her next words came out ice-cold.
“Baek Chang-ja, Baek Dae-chang, whatever your name is—actually, that reminds me, I could go for some tripe right now. Anyway, I believe what’s currently splattered across the floor was supposed to be my dinner. So unless you can give me a very convincing explanation…”
“No! This isn’t my Ultimate Mala Soup, agh!”
WHAM!!!
A crisp, refreshing sound echoed through the kitchen. This was exactly why a person needed to keep their wits about them even when they were losing their mind. The Greatest Chef Under Heaven’s appearance was now utterly tragic. He rolled across the floor clutching his head. Today, his chef’s uniform had absorbed enough mala broth to reach its absolute limit.
With the uniform clinging to his skin in soaked, scarlet patches, Baek Chang-ja knelt politely.
“So. About my dinner?”
“I… have no face left to show you……”
“What’s the problem? Is it such a crime that I wanted one bowl of delicious mala tang? I waited a full forty-five days because everyone kept saying how amazing your cooking was, mister.”
“Exactly. How could I possibly serve a flawed dish to honored guests who came expecting my very best?”
“A flawed dish?”
“This flavor… it isn’t right.”
Baek Chang-ja began explaining the situation in earnest.
The Ultimate Mala Soup was originally an extravagant dish that cost one gold tael per bowl. That was why he only used the tenderest loin from young pigs between seven and nine months old—fried on the outside, then finished separately. The beef came from the tenderloin of healthy calves prepared the same way. Even the lotus root wasn’t just any lotus root; he maintained a special pond and—
Cheong asked incredulously, “So you just take the absolute best ingredients, cook them separately, and throw them in the broth. But then how could it possibly taste bad? Do we even need a Greatest Chef Under Heaven for that?”
“Cooking is the art of examining the condition of every ingredient each and every day. Is it too dry? Too cold? Too hot? For meat, you check the fat and muscle. For vegetables, the leaves and shape. Only I have the ability to bring out the absolute best flavor from the highest quality ingredients. Who else would dare pour such treasures into a single bowl of mala tang?”
“A single bowl of mala tang?”
“Though mala tang may be considered commoners’ food, there is no hierarchy in cuisine. In fact, since the creation of my Ultimate Mala Soup, many variations have appeared. What was once just a cheap meal has gradually earned recognition as a proper dish in its own right.”
A little while ago he had seemed like a complete lunatic, but now that Cheong was listening properly, he actually sounded like a surprisingly dedicated and excellent chef.
“Then why did you throw away my dinner?”
“That’s the thing.”
Today as well, he had prepared every ingredient to perfection. He had poured his heart and soul into it, especially since the guests were so esteemed. Yet the moment the ingredients came together, a severe problem had arisen in the harmony between the components and the broth. He had checked each ingredient individually and found nothing wrong, which had driven him nearly insane.
“Therefore, I cannot serve any dishes today.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Of course. It is an infinitesimally small distortion that no one but myself—with my palate as the Greatest Chef Under Heaven—would ever notice. But it is undeniably not a proper dish. Um… are you going to hit me?”
“Yep.”
Cheong nodded, Boksinjeok still in hand. Baek Chang-ja’s expression turned solemn.
“Even if I am beaten, my heart’s desire to always serve the greatest dishes will never be broken.”
“Dedication is admirable, but there’s a limit, don’t you think? What about the guests outside clutching their empty stomachs?”
“Flavor is power. For the sake of the ultimate dish, a period of anguished waiting is natu—argh!”
SMACK!
Baek Chang-ja rolled across the floor again. Still, Cheong had taken his spirit into consideration and adjusted her strike to roughly the force of a single exclamation mark.
Leaving the groaning chef behind, Cheong turned around.
“Looks like dinner’s a bust. I’ve been starving all day and now I’m seriously going to die… Friend, where were we headed earlier?”
“We’ve wasted time for nothing. Though it was quite the spectacle. Well then, do you enjoy duck? It’s not quite up to Beijing standards, but Sichuan duck has its own charm.”
“Ooh, that sounds great?”
Cheong had already forgotten about the mala tang and was grinning. It made sense—while it couldn’t compare to authentic Beijing duck, it was apparently close enough. Before she had entered the martial world, Beijing duck’s fame had spread across the entire continent, yet she had never gotten the chance to try the real thing after her arrival.
“Sichuan duck, huh. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Indeed. Duck makes for an excellent dinner. According to the Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon, duck nourishes qi and strengthens the body. It is a food that warriors should love.”
Paeng Cho-ryo naturally joined the conversation.
“W-wait just a second! How did this suddenly turn into that weakling treating us? Sis, I was definitely planning to treat you to dinner tonight!”
“But roasted duck is much better than mala tang, isn’t it? You don’t even like it that much anyway.”
Paeng Cho-ryo scratched the back of her head as she answered. Dang Nan-a quickly cut in.
“O-our Tang family has plenty of ducks too! We raise them on sulfur, you know.”
“Oh. Sulfur-fed ducks. I see. According to the Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon, while humans cannot consume sulfur directly, feeding it to ducks allows it to take root in their bodies. The resulting meat strengthens bones and joints when eaten.”
Sulfur and saltpeter were strictly controlled items. Not only were they expensive, large quantities were nearly impossible to purchase. Feeding costly sulfur to ducks was essentially the same as feeding gold to dogs. Of course, the Tang family possessed both power and wealth.
“Today I’ll treat you properly at the main house, okay? Sis?”
Cheong tilted her head. Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon? What is that, some kind of gourmet guide? She made a mental note to find a copy and read it later.
Paeng Cho-ryo thumped Cheong on the shoulder.
“Cheong-ah. Let’s go. The Tang family says they’ll treat us.”
“Ah, is that what was happening? I didn’t think she’d actually drag me along.”
To Cheong, Dang Nan-a gave off the distinct impression of a chihuahua. The kind that would wag its tail and act cute in Paeng Cho-ryo’s arms, but bare its teeth and growl at Cheong. That pathetic yet somehow adorable breed overlapped perfectly with Dang Nan-a in her mind.
“Ah, Sis. Wait a moment. I was—”
“How could our Cheong-ah’s status possibly allow that? There’s no way the named disciple of the Great Guardian would be left out of an invitation. And even if that were the case, how could I possibly follow along? But Nan-a, why are you—”
Cheong held a high position within the Daoist sects. Leaving her out of a dinner invitation would be tantamount to a declaration of war against the dignity of every Daoist sect. If Paeng Cho-ryo went along anyway, she would only be participating in that insult.
The quick-witted Dang Nan-a hastily changed her tune.
“Ah, hehe, hehehe, it’s nothing at all……”
Of course, she didn’t forget to simultaneously run through several different poisons in her head. What? A face-con like her has good backing? Then if I use poison and get caught, it’ll be trouble. And then immediately after: So I just need to make sure I don’t get caught, right? What’s good for secret poisoning? I should combine a few split poisons.
Split poisons were substances that were harmless individually but revealed their toxicity when combined. For example, putting one in the broth while applying the other to the solid ingredients or personal chopsticks.
A poisonous glint appeared in Dang Nan-a’s eyes. Cheeky face-con! Tonight you won’t be able to leave the toilet. After all, even if she were caught, one strike of her Absolute Secret Technique, Ten Thousand Flowers Tower, would solve everything.
As Dang Nan-a plotted such wicked schemes and gathered her poison qi, Paeng Cho-ryo simply said one thing.
“This kid. How boring.”
Cheong’s face brightened.
“Then shall we? Friend, you come too? When else will we get to enjoy the hospitality of the Five Great Families?”
“M-me? No, I mean, would I be included?”
Jayu suddenly burst into laughter and continued.
“That sounds excellent. Hospitality from the Tang family. I’ve been thinking I should experience it at least once.”
----
That day, the Tang family received unexpected guests.
The daughter who had left saying she would eat with the future sister-in-law, the Reincarnation of Xiang Yu Paeng Cho-ryo, returned not with a full stomach but with a whole bunch of new lumps on her head. Thanks to that, the Tang Family Head had to personally come out to greet guests who hadn’t been on the schedule.
After all, this was the named disciple of that Great Guardian. Though still young, her status was high enough that the Family Head should at least show his face once. That didn’t mean he would go to them, of course. The other party should pay their respects; it wasn’t proper for the Tang Family Head to go receive them.
So he had simply called them over to see their faces.
The door opened.
The Tang Family Head, who had been lounging indifferently, suddenly shot upright as if spring-loaded.