Is It You Again?
Most martial artists from the great noble clans or the Nine Great Sects and One Union tend to live honest, upright lives without causing trouble. That is because they belong to the so-called 'Orthodox Faction.' They believe that being a true martial artist isn't just about knowing how to use martial arts, but using them for the right causes. The problem is, there are always those rotten apples who cause trouble day in and day out, relying solely on their family's prestige.
"Who is that guy?" I asked, staring at the fellow pointing his finger and criticizing the food I had worked so hard to prepare. Mrs. Geum answered in a hushed whisper.
"That's Namgung Geuk."
"Ah, the Namgung Clan's spoiled brat?" No way, is it really him? When I asked again, Mrs. Geum nodded.
Namgung Geuk. He was the youngest son of Namgung Chan, the current patriarch of the Namgung Clan, who was famous by his epithet, the 'Emperor's Sword.'
"He's famous within the academy, but it seems his reputation has spread elsewhere too."
"Rumors are widespread throughout the Central Plains that while he doesn't cause massive disasters, he constantly stirs up minor trouble. I heard he's been disciplined several times by the academy. To think a guy like that is taking the exam to become a Gyodu."
"Since his father is the patriarch, he probably figured he could pull some strings. Honestly, what a joke."
I wanted to smack him hard on the back of his head while shouting, 'How dare you try to throw away food soaked in the blood, sweat, and tears of the common people!' But since I couldn't afford to cause a scene on my very first day at the Outer Dining Hall, I held back for now.
However, the other martial artists sitting next to Namgung Geuk began to chime in as well.
"The menu is a bit meager, isn't it?"
"Can anyone even muster up any strength after eating this crap?"
"Well, it's the Outer Dining Hall, not the Inner Dining Hall, so what can you expect?"
These little punks... Do they even know that the Inner Dining Hall they're so desperately looking for rejected them because they didn't want to serve food to mere candidates who aren't even official instructors yet? I was seriously considering going out there to give them a piece of my mind, but before I could, someone sat down and picked up their utensils. It was the woman who had locked eyes with me earlier.
She placed a piece of Hoegwa-yuk on top of her white rice and spoke in a quiet, calm voice.
"If you're not going to eat, get out. Stop making so much noise."
"W-What did you say?"
"You seem to hear the examiners just fine when they give you low scores, so why can't you hear my voice?"
"Hey!"
It seemed the examiners had indeed given him a low score, and Namgung Geuk had openly complained to them about it. As a flustered Namgung Geuk raised his voice, the woman slammed her chopsticks onto the table.
Slam!
"Hey?"
Her gentle voice completely transformed at that moment. It felt like magma bubbling right before an eruption. And it wasn't just her voice that changed.
"...!" Namgung Geuk froze. An intangible, suffocating killing intent had erupted from her. It was terrifying. A high-level aura of death, unbelievable coming from someone who had been so quiet until now, spread in all directions. Thanks to this, Namgung Geuk and the other prospective Gyodu who had agreed with him all wore expressions of sheer panic.
"Young Master Namgung, I didn't realize we were close enough for you to speak so casually to me."
"W-We're the same age..."
"Since when does age matter in the Murim? Shall we settle this with a serious duel so we can establish a clear hierarchy?"
"Ahem..."
At her challenge—which basically boiled down to 'If you've got a problem, let's throw hands and see who's boss'—Namgung Geuk couldn't say a word and quietly slunk back into his seat. Who on earth was she to make the youngest son of Namgung Chan shrink back like a wet dog without even putting up a fight? Judging by the sheer pressure of her killing intent, most ordinary martial artists wouldn't even be able to stand against her.
"Tsk, he got completely shut down by Lady Socheonma."
"Exactly. He should have just shut up and eaten his food."
"Who else but Lady Socheonma would dare to speak to him like that?"
Ah, Socheonma! Literally, it meant 'Little Heavenly Demon,' but the underlying weight of that title was far heavier. It meant that this young lady, who had frozen with a piece of Hoegwa-yuk still in her mouth, was the successor to the Heavenly Demon.
The four strongest masters in the Central Plains were referred to as the Four Sovereigns, or the Sajon. One of them was the absolute master Seonwoo Dan, who held three legendary titles: the Leader of the Demonic Cult, the Demon Sovereign, and the Heavenly Demon. And the eldest daughter of that very Seonwoo Dan was...
"Socheonma Seonwoo Seol."
To think that Seonwoo Seol, the spearhead of the rising generation who would lead the future of the Murim, was eating my food. The Mutual Righteousness Academy truly was an incredible place.
However, Seonwoo Seol wasn't chewing the Hoegwa-yuk I made; she was just staring blankly at the table. Did she bite into a hard piece of cartilage? Or was the gamey smell of the pork too strong? No, that couldn't be. The ginger and Doubanjiang should have completely eliminated any unpleasant odor.
Chew, chew, gulp. Soon, her jaw moved, and she swallowed.
"Haa..."
A deep sigh followed. Was it delicious, or was it terrible? As I stared intently at the unreadable expression of the Socheonma, Mrs. Geum gently patted my forearm.
"Chef Yoon, congratulations. It seems Lady Socheonma likes it."
"Oh, is that so?"
"If Lady Socheonma doesn't like the food, she either won't eat it at all or will wolf it down as fast as possible to leave. But look at her—she's taking her time, savoring every bite, isn't she?"
Chew, chew, chew. Seonwoo Seol was eating with perfect, elegant posture, a textbook example of proper dining etiquette. She occasionally picked up a few other side dishes, but her main target was clearly the Hoegwa-yuk.
Indeed, just as Mrs. Geum said, if food tasted bad, people would usually rush through it or avoid it entirely. Seeing Seonwoo Seol eat like that, the others sat down with awkward, sheepish expressions and began to pick at their food.
"Huh?"
"Wait, this Hoegwa-yuk is incredibly delicious!"
The other prospective Gyodu began to descend upon the Hoegwa-yuk, which had received Seonwoo Seol's silent stamp of approval.
"I'm not very good with spicy food..."
"No, even if you can't handle spice, you absolutely have to try this."
"R-Really?"
A shy-looking female candidate took a few bites, and her face instantly lit up with a bright, cheerful smile. As expected, the reaction was fantastic. Whether they had sided with Namgung Geuk or not, everyone became equal before the majesty of Hoegwa-yuk. Watching them stuff their mouths with every piece they could grab was quite a satisfying sight.
However, Namgung Geuk, who had been whining about the Inner Dining Hall since he arrived, tried to throw cold water on their enthusiasm.
"At the end of the day, it's just a commoner's dish, isn't it?"
...But the moment he popped a piece of Hoegwa-yuk into his mouth along with those words, he seemed to lose his speech. How's that? Cleared your head of any thoughts about the Inner Dining Hall, didn't it? Although I didn't have enough time to maximize its medicinal effects using the Elixir Refining Method, the flavor alone was top-tier.
The rich, savory fat of the pork belly, which could easily become greasy, was perfectly balanced by the Sichuan Doubanjiang and Sichuan peppercorns. The bean-based umami, fermented chili peppers, and numbing peppercorns cut right through the oiliness. Long live the people of Sichuan for thinking of using such spices in their cooking!
Besides, what person in the Central Plains could possibly dislike the combination of pork and scallion oil? This was a guaranteed, foolproof recipe destined for success.
"I-It is quite tasty."
"See? What did I tell you about our Sichuan cuisine!" A petite young woman puffed out her chest, boasting with immense pride. Wait, do I know her?
"The chef of the Outer Dining Hall made it, so why are you the one feeling proud, Dang Sojeo?"
"Because the chef who made this must definitely be from Sichuan!"
Ah, she must be a prospective Gyodu from the Sichuan Tang Clan who was deeply moved by my Hoegwa-yuk. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm actually from Korea, the land of Kimchi-Pizza-Tangsuyuk, not Sichuan. Still, since Hoegwa-yuk is indeed a Sichuan dish, I'll let her have her pride. What matters is where the dish originated, not the chef's hometown.
And so, the late lunch hour came to an end. The plates in front of the ten prospective Gyodu were polished to a mirror shine. Not only my Hoegwa-yuk, but also the side dishes prepared by the three kitchen ladies had been completely wiped clean. Not a single grain of rice remained in the bowls, and the rest of the dishes were so clean that they looked like they could be put away after a quick wipe with a dry towel without even needing to be washed.
"Ah, that was a fantastic meal."
"I don't think I've ever eaten this much in my life."
"Man, I should have visited the Outer Dining Hall more often... I had no idea they made such delicious food here."
Good, good. Exactly. You have to taste it before you judge it. How could anyone look down on it just because it came from the Outer Dining Hall? Namgung Geuk's expression was also a sight to behold. No matter how spoiled of a brat he was, even he didn't have the face to criticize food that everyone else was raving about. This was especially true as he kept casting nervous glances at Seonwoo Seol before slipping out of the Outer Dining Hall ahead of everyone else.
Afterward, the nine prospective Gyodu enjoyed some tea and simple Dasik before leaving with polite words of gratitude. As the three kitchen ladies and I stepped forward to clear the tables, I noticed that one person still hadn't left the Outer Dining Hall.
"...?"
That person was none other than Seonwoo Seol. She was staring intently at me as I held a tray.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
Her expression had been perfectly normal when looking at the three kitchen ladies, but it changed completely when her eyes landed on me. A slight furrow of her brow, pursed lips, and a gaze that seemed to scan my entire body. It was a look I was all too familiar with.
"You... are someone I haven't seen in the Outer Dining Hall before."
Right, suspicion... Wait, what? Why is she suspecting me?
"Ah, I am Yoon Gomyung, the newly appointed Chief Chef of the Outer Dining Hall."
"Are you the... Chief Chef that the Divine Physician of White Clouds appointed?"
"That is correct."
Only then did the suspicion in her eyes fade slightly. Honestly, I had been quite embarrassed by the bizarre rumors circulating about me, but for once, I was grateful for them. Still, she didn't completely let her guard down. As I bowed politely, I could feel her gaze boring mercilessly into the crown of my head. I felt like she was going to drill a hole right through it.
Perhaps because she had already heard the rumors about me, Seonwoo Seol skipped the usual pleasantries like asking where I was from or how old I was, and got straight to the point.
"That rich, natural smoky flavor of the Hoegwa-yuk... was definitely brought out using inner qi. Am I wrong?"
Her senses were incredibly sharp. There was a reason she was called the Socheonma.
"Since you describe it so precisely, it seems you have tasted such cooking before."
"In our Sacred Cult, we have someone known as the Food Demon King."
"Don't tell me... you've actually eaten the Food Demon King's cooking?"
"By chance, yes."
I was startled to hear that notorious title. True to his bizarre epithet, the Food Demon King was a lunatic who, on top of possessing transcendent martial arts, was so obsessed with cooking and gourmet food that he was rumored to have even tasted human flesh. His full name was unknown, with his surname 'Han' being the only clue. But that very Food Demon King was in the Demonic Cult, and Seonwoo Seol had actually eaten his food. It really hit home that the woman standing before me was a truly prominent figure.
When I stared at her in fascination, Seonwoo Seol slightly averted her eyes before speaking. Was my gaze too intense?
"Ahem. In any case, to freely project one's qi, one must be at least a first-class martial artist. So, Chief Chef, you must be at least close to a first-class martial artist yourself."
Hmm... I felt like I could hear some dramatic background music playing from somewhere. For some reason, Seonwoo Seol was spinning a whole detective theory around me.
"Let's say that's the case."
"However, I couldn't gauge your true strength at all."
"..."
"That means one of two things. Either you have learned a special martial art that allows you to hide your strength, or you are at a higher realm than I am. But I don't think it's the former."
Unsure of how to respond, I remained silent, which caused Seonwoo Seol's lips to curl up slightly. She probably made that face because she thought her brilliant deduction had cornered me, but she just looked incredibly adorable. I didn't even feel like arguing; I just wanted to smile and nod along. Is this why people say being born a beautiful woman is like passing the state civil service exams with flying colors?
Utterly oblivious to my thoughts, Seonwoo Seol tapped her lips with her finger as she continued her deduction.
"It's not that I find it hard to believe you're an expert in the Peak Realm. It's just suspicious that a master of your caliber has managed to remain completely hidden until now."
Is that how she sees it? Well, I suppose to an outsider, I must look like a master who just dropped out of the sky. Who would ever know the sheer hell I went through in that cave for years? A master who has digested a miraculous encounter through closed-door cultivation would naturally appear that way to others.
"I see. And your conclusion?"
At my question, Seonwoo Seol fell silent for a moment before pointing the very finger she had been tapping against her lips straight at me.
"On my title as Socheonma, I will keep a close eye on you, Chief Chef. There are simply too many suspicious things about you."
With those words, Seonwoo Seol began to walk slowly, circling around me while staring intently.
"You are said to be from Shandong, but your accent is quite different from the people of the Huangbo Clan, who are also from Shandong. Your tone is much more dry and modern. You are tall and muscular, like someone who has trained in external martial arts. You are vastly different from an ordinary chef."
Ah, so she's saying that despite being from Shandong, I don't use the Shandong dialect, and I look too much like a martial artist for a chef. Well, most chefs in the Central Plains did tend to have round, plump, and jolly appearances. It was understandable why the Socheonma would suspect me. Especially since the Mutual Righteousness Academy was a gathering place for all kinds of geniuses, I had heard that people occasionally infiltrated the academy with malicious intentions.
"Then, in your eyes, Lady Socheonma, what do you think my true identity is?"
"A spy disguised as a chef."
Uh, so she thinks I'm a spy disguised as a cook?
"..."
I pondered. How could I gently break the news to Socheonma Seonwoo Seol—who was looking at me with an expression that practically screamed, 'How's that? Pretty convincing deduction, right?'—that her intuition was completely off-base? After carefully choosing my words, I finally made up my mind. I nodded solemnly and looked at her.
"Lady Socheonma."
"Yes, go ahead."
"The Hoegwa-yuk I served you was made from the highest quality ingredients available in the Outer Dining Hall. The rest of the side dishes were also prepared with great care by our kitchen ladies."
"...?"
"I don't think you ate anything spoiled, so where on earth did that deduction come from?"
"...!"
When I politely rephrased 'Did you eat something weird?', Seonwoo Seol's face instantly flushed bright red.