A Recipe for Rivalry
It was the morning of two days before the entrance ceremony. As usual, I woke up before sunrise to head to work. But the moment I was about to step out of my room, a man I had never seen before was standing right in front of my door.
"Uh... who are you?"
Looking at his attire, he was wearing the uniform provided by the academy. In other words, he was a regular servant employed by the institution. The servant bowed politely to me and got straight to the point.
"I apologize for the early hour, sir. The Northern Hall Master is looking for you."
The Northern Hall Master? You mean Oh Waja, the Ten Thousand Versed Divine Beggar and former Beggar Sect Elder? But why on earth is he calling for me at this ungodly hour? I didn't know the reason, but since a high-ranking official was summoning me, I had to comply. I followed the servant, trudging toward the Northern Pavilion in my usual work clothes.
The academy buildings, representing the four cardinal directions, each had their own distinct color. The Eastern Pavilion was blue, the Southern Hall was red, the Western Hall was white, and the Northern Pavilion, where we were heading, was black. Of course, "black" didn't mean it was pitch black all over; it was a tasteful blend of black and red, giving the building a grand, imposing aura. Looking at it now, black and red really made for a luxurious combination.
The real issue was its size. They say even the same model of car looks different in size depending on whether it's black or white, but the Northern Pavilion actually looked much larger than the halls in the other directions.
"Shouldn't black make it look a bit smaller?"
"Many people feel that way, so they actually built it slightly larger than the other halls," the servant explained.
I was taken aback. So it wasn't just my imagination—it really was bigger?
As I stepped inside the Northern Pavilion and looked around the classrooms and various other facilities, I couldn't help but feel that coming to the Mutual Righteousness Academy as a student rather than the Head Chef would have been quite fun.
"..." Ahem. I wonder if the Mutual Righteousness Academy has an admission track for mature students?
When I entered the Hall Master's office on the first floor of the Northern Pavilion, a complete disaster zone unfolded before my eyes. It was messy enough to make me want to unleash that classic motherly nagging line: "Is this a room or a pigsty?" On the floor, amidst a scattered straw mat and a lopsided table, sat Oh Waja with his legs crossed. Rather than the dignity of a Beggar Sect Elder, he looked more like a lazy neighborhood old-timer lounging around his house.
"Ah, Chef Yoon. You've arrived?"
"Greetings, Northern Hall Master. I hope you have been well." I greeted him with a polite fist-and-palm salute, and Oh Waja grinned, pointing to a corner of the straw mat.
"Make yourself comfortable and sit."
"What brings you to summon me at this hour?"
"I shall explain once the Head Chef of the Inner Dining Hall arrives."
The Head Chef of the Inner Dining Hall... Is that the guy my kitchen ladies were cursing out so passionately? The Inner Dining Hall was the exclusive restaurant for the academy's instructors and assistant instructors (gyodu). If we were to compare it to the military, it was similar to having a mess hall for enlisted soldiers and a separate dining facility for officers. However, there was one crucial difference: the Outer Dining Hall and the Inner Dining Hall operated completely independently of each other.
In the military, the enlisted mess hall and the officers' mess hall are still within the same unit, with only the cooks being different. But the Outer and Inner Dining Halls were worlds apart. While I was the head of the Outer Dining Hall, the Inner Dining Hall was managed by its own Head Chef. Consequently, they received a separate budget and operated under entirely different guidelines. I didn't know why such a system was established in the first place, but it seemed to have been maintained for a very long time.
Since the managers were different and the clientele was split, the relationship between the Outer and Inner Dining Halls wasn't exactly warm. You could see it immediately from how my kitchen ladies reacted, and even the students seemed to look down on the Outer Dining Hall. I suppose that was why friction arose. Still, shouldn't the Head Chefs at least try to get along?
As I waited quietly with those thoughts in mind, someone knocked on the door and stepped inside.
"I heard you were looking for me, sir."
The person who opened the door and appeared was a tall, handsome man. He had a slightly slick, greasy vibe to him, but he was undoubtedly the type of good-looking guy that women would swoon over. After offering a respectful bow to Oh Waja, the man turned his gaze toward me, sitting opposite him.
"And this is?"
"This is Chef Yoon, the Head Chef of the Outer Dining Hall."
"I've heard a lot about you. I am Yoon Gomyung." I stood up and offered a fist-and-palm salute, but he accepted my greeting with a distinctly lukewarm, reluctant expression.
"...I am Geum Ho."
Wait, is your family business manufacturing black rubber tires? His name sounded incredibly familiar. But his name aside, the real issue was that expression of his. I didn't know the first thing about physiognomy, but just looking at his face gave me a strong feeling that we wouldn't get along. When Seonwoo Seol glared at me, it was at least cute. A guy glaring at me? Absolutely disgusting.
"You sit here as well."
"...Yes, sir."
Though he maintained a polite demeanor, to my eyes, he was practically radiating distaste. I couldn't tell if he disliked me or if he just loathed Oh Waja's grimy straw mat.
Oh Waja uncorked his gourd bottle and took a deep swig of its contents.
"Ahhh... Nothing beats a morning drink... of cold water, I mean. Truly refreshing."
When Geum Ho and I stared at him in sheer disbelief, Oh Waja quickly averted his gaze. If he insisted it was water, there wasn't much I could say, but how on earth did he plan to hide the heavy stench of alcohol wafting from his mouth?
"Ahem! Right. Well, you both know that our academy's entrance ceremony is in two days, correct?"
"Yes, so I've heard."
"Last year, and the year before that, there was nothing special for the Outer and Inner Dining Halls to do. You just had to carry on as usual."
I had already heard about this from the kitchen ladies and the instructor in charge of my handover. They said the entrance ceremony wouldn't involve anything out of the ordinary, so I just had to cook for the students much like I did during the break. But for him to specifically bring this up now...
"However, it seems the Principal wants to do things a bit differently this year."
"Differently... sir?"
At Oh Waja's suggestive tone, Geum Ho's expression began to stiffen as if he also sensed what was coming. Indeed, people in high positions always wanted to do something "meaningful" rather than sticking to the ordinary.
"He suggested that through a collaboration between the Outer and Inner Dining Halls, we provide a special lunch for the instructors, assistant instructors, and the top students of each grade who are attending the ceremony. What do you two think?"
Dongdo was the unique term used within the Mutual Righteousness Academy to refer to its students. It was derived from the phrase "fellow Daoists of the four seas," which was used to refer to all martial artists of the Central Plains, regardless of whether they belonged to the orthodox, unorthodox, or demonic factions. I counted on my fingers, estimating the numbers.
"Wow. Instructors, assistant instructors, and the top students attending the ceremony... that's going to be quite a crowd. Did the Principal happen to mention any specific dish he wants?"
"Since it shouldn't interfere with your regular dining hall duties, he requested that it be a single-bowl dish if possible."
Hmm, not a bad choice. Since this wasn't a pre-planned event, serving a single-bowl specialty dish to everyone at once was a highly practical option.
"A single bowl... Since we have assistant instructors and students, the portions should be hearty, but we also have older instructors, so keeping it from being too greasy would be perfect."
"You sound as if you've already envisioned the dish."
"Oh, not at all. I still need to have a deep discussion with Head Chef Geum here, don't I?"
When I glanced at Geum Ho, he closed his eyes slowly and nodded.
"We will make a decision by today."
With Geum Ho agreeing, Oh Waja grinned happily and clapped his hands. "Good, good! I'm leaving it all in your hands. We will provide unlimited ingredients, so please make something absolutely spectacular. Understood?"
"Yes, Northern Hall Master."
After leaving the Hall Master's office, Geum Ho and I walked out. Since we had to decide on the dish together, I tried to call out to him.
"Head Chef Geum. Where should we meet?"
"...Meet for what?"
"Well, we have to decide on the dish. Together."
"Together?"
"Did you plan on doing it alone?"
I mean, it would be awesome for me since it meant less work, but riding free on a group project without doing anything felt a bit too shameless, didn't it? I'd at least feel better if we did the research together. That was what I was thinking, but what came out of Geum Ho's mouth was even more shocking.
"Ha! Why on earth would the Outer Dining Hall have any say in deciding that?"
"Excuse me?"
Uh... wait, surely not? Judging by his tone, he was revving up his engine to spout some brand-new, scientifically undocumented nonsense.
"Ah, right, you were newly appointed. You don't seem to know how things work around here, so let me make this clear."
With a smug, obnoxious smirk, Geum Ho took a few large strides toward me. Leaning in close, he sneered in a mocking tone.
"The Outer Dining Hall has no right to negotiate with us."
Oh-ho. Now he was dropping the honorifics entirely? I had let him slide just to see how far he would push it, but he must have thought I was intimidated because he kept running his mouth.
"You guys just do as you're told. If we tell you to chop green onions, you chop green onions. If we tell you to peel garlic, you peel garlic. That's your job."
Ah, my kitchen ladies. You were absolutely right. This bastard is pure trash!
"Is that so, Head Chef Geum Ho of the Inner Dining Hall?"
"Indeed it is, you Outer Dining Hall nobody."
Well, well, look at this guy. I was planning to let things slide peacefully, but he's throwing a tantrum? As a civilized man, I absolutely did not imagine planting a fist packed with the profound secrets of the Baekyak-gwonkyeol right into Geum Ho's jaw. Why would I ever do such a thing in a martial world where martial arts and righteousness breathe?
But I had absolutely no intention of taking this lying down. Scratching my chin, I asked him a question.
"Head Chef Geum, does your family happen to have someone holding a high position in this academy?"
"...No, why?"
"Then how did you get hired at the Inner Dining Hall?"
"Do I really need to explain that to you?"
While I could speak with absolute confidence, Geum Ho was dodging the question with an irritated voice. A guy with this much ego wouldn't hide how he got in if he had entered through legitimate means. Yes, that was it. He hadn't entered through the front door.
"Ah, so you used guanxi to get in? Whose strings did you pull?"
If Korea had bloodlines, regional ties, and school alumni networks, the Central Plains had guanxi. But he must have found it quite embarrassing, because instead of answering, Geum Ho snapped.
"I told you, I have no reason to tell someone like you!"
When Geum Ho yelled like that, I couldn't help but grin. Now that I had sniffed out his weakness, it was only natural to exploit it.
"Hey, cut the crap."
"...What?"
"Stop making excuses and give me a straight answer."
Just as Geum Ho had leaned in close to mock me, I, who actually had a solid backing, leaned in close to him and asked, "The person who got you in through guanxi—do they have more pull than the Western Hall Master, or less?"
Since I had also dropped the honorifics completely, Geum Ho's eyes trembled. I wasn't one to back down either. After all, I was in a position to lean on a literal Absolute Master.
"That is...!"
He hesitated. It seemed my guess was spot on. While he did have a high-ranking official backing him to secure his position in the Inner Dining Hall, that person was definitely lower in status than Dan Buyong, the Western Hall Master. Which meant, in turn, that his backer had less pull than mine.
"Less pull, then? If that person had real power, you would've barked their name at me by now."
"..."
Having hit the nail right on the head, he couldn't utter a single word. Dealing with him further was just exhausting, so I decided to wrap it up with a brief warning.
"I don't care if you crawled in through a dog flap or bribed your way into the academy. But remember just one thing."
"..."
"Don't try to threaten me with this half-assed attitude. If you've got a problem, let's settle it. I'll take you on anytime."
"...Settle it? Are you suggesting a culinary duel?"
Oh? The moment I mentioned settling it, life suddenly returned to his eyes. Wait, don't tell me this guy...?
"You seem pretty damn confident that you can beat me if we face off."
"I've heard your cooking skills aren't bad, enough to earn praise from two Hall Masters, but in the end, aren't you just a cook from some backwater inn?"
Now he was acting completely confident. What on earth was this guy relying on to act so cocky? Does he want to get beaten to a pulp with a bowl of Pork Noodle Soup?
"Oh, really? And what kind of illustrious career does our great Head Chef Geum have under his belt?"
"As for me, I trained for five years at Eoseonru, an establishment opened by a former imperial chef from the Imperial Kitchen!"
"Ah, is that so? Well, I cooked for over five hundred people every single day for two years. With a staff of only five."
"What nonsense... Even in the kitchens of the Shaolin Temple, such a feat would be unprecedented!"
"It's the truth, you punk!"
As Geum Ho glared at me and shouted in disbelief, I yelled back with absolute sincerity. You try being a military cook, you bastard. Waking up at four or five every single morning just to prep meals.
Whether he believed me or just thought I was bluffing, Geum Ho kept his glare fixed on me as he spoke. "Talking will solve nothing. Only a direct confrontation will reveal the true difference in our skills, will it not?"
When Geum Ho finally proposed a duel, I readily accepted. Grabbing a guy by the collar and beating him to a pulp when he didn't even have a chestnut-sized amount of inner qi in his dantian wasn't a fight fit for a chef. A battle between chefs should, of course, be decided through cooking. And the ones to decide the outcome of that battle wouldn't be us.
"How about we let the guests who visit that day judge our dishes?"
"...The guests will judge the dishes?"
Faced with a duel proposal unlike anything he had ever heard of, Geum Ho's eyes widened.