Insidious Intentions

Grandpa Yakseon's medical journals didn't just contain recipes for elixirs; they also detailed spiritual beasts and venomous creatures. After all, consuming them could provide a massive boost to a martial artist's cultivation. The Ice-flower Deer was one of the creatures recorded in his books. A spiritual beast found only in the absolute harshest, most freezing depths of the North Sea, it was said to look like a transparent sculpture carved from pure ice while alive. Upon death, it reverted to the appearance of an ordinary, grayish-brown deer. The problem, however, was that the moment it died, its entire body—including its hide—hardened into solid stone. The chunk of Ice-flower Deer meat before me had likely been skinned and butchered before it fully expired, but even butchered pieces hardened just the same. That was probably why they had left it in the Murim Alliance kitchen's ice cellar. It was still raw meat, so leaving it at room temperature for too long would cause it to rot, and the Alliance chefs must have figured they would worry about how to use it later.

"What is the matter? Is there some sort of problem?"

Dong Gyeongdo smirked at me as I stared intently at the Ice-flower Deer meat. Should I just beat him to a pulp?

"Ah, nothing like that. I was just wondering how you would like it prepared."

"To fully absorb the spiritual energy of such a beast, a soup is naturally the best choice, is it not? And for a soup, slicing it as thinly as possible is ideal."

With those words, Dong Gyeongdo let out a snicker and muttered under his breath, "Assuming you even can."

Right, go ahead and show your true colors. Typical behavior for the Insidious Alliance.

In Grandpa Yakseon's medical journals, the phenomenon of the Ice-flower Deer's meat hardening was referred to as 'glacial stasis.' He believed it was caused by the extreme cold of the North Sea condensing within the flesh. Normally, I would have placed the meat in a pot and simmered it slowly with yang-aligned herbs to thaw it out, but today was different.

I stared down at the knife Dong Gyeongdo had handed me. It was so dull it would probably squash soft tofu rather than cut it. I spun the knife—clearly given to me as a blatant attempt to screw me over—and tapped the flat of the blade against the meat.

Ting, ting. It was so hard it made me laugh. This wasn't meat; it was a literal boulder. A sigh escaped my lips, but I had to give it a shot. Taking a deep breath, I began to slowly channel my internal energy into the kitchen knife.

"Whew..."

"Don't tell me you are giving up already?"

"Shut it."

"What?"

"Ah, 'got it.' It means I've figured it out. It's a phrase from the Western Regions."

Setting aside whether people in the actual Western Regions actually spoke English, I was in the middle of concentrating. Having him constantly chirping in my ear broke my focus, and the curse had slipped out before I could stop it.

I had channeled Sword Qi ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into kitchen knives plenty of times before. But would channeling Sword Qi into a blade this dull actually make it sharp? It wasn't like infusing a wooden staff with qi would suddenly turn it into a needle. Well, whatever. I'd try it first, and if it didn't work, I'd just smash the damn thing.

Flash! As I channeled my qi, the entire rectangular cleaver began to glow with a soft orange light.

"Sword Qi...?" Dong Gyeongdo's face froze. He clearly hadn't expected me to be capable of manifesting Sword Qi.

The reason I had immediately resorted to Sword Qi on a type of meat I was handling for the first time was because of a passage in the medical journal.

I brought the kitchen knife, glowing with a vibrant orange light, down toward the Ice-flower Deer meat. And then...

Sliiiice! It cut! It actually cut! It felt exactly like slicing through rock-hard frozen tuna with a perfectly honed sashimi knife. Come to think of it, I really wanted some tuna sashimi. Did they catch tuna in the Central Plains? No, focus. Now was not the time to let my mind wander.

As the Sword Qi began to waver, I immediately reinforced it with another surge of energy and asked Dong Gyeongdo, "Will this be thin enough for hotpot?"

"U-Uh... yes, that would be wonderful."

"Should I slice all of it?"

"Just half... no, a third of it..."

"Understood."

Slash, slice, slash! Now that I had the feel of it, I picked up the pace. As I rapidly sliced through the incredibly dense Ice-flower Deer meat, Dong Gyeongdo's face contorted into an ugly, twisted grimace. What a pathetic sight.

The paper-thin, scarlet slices of meat fell away gracefully with every stroke. Because I was slicing them so thin, they folded over themselves under their own weight. I had shaved them down to the thickness of blowfish sashimi; ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once cooked, they would be absolutely delicious.

After slicing exactly one-third of the meat, I slammed the cleaver down onto the wooden counter.

Thud!

Dong Gyeongdo swallowed hard as he stared at the knife, which was still vibrating from the impact. It had only sunk in easily because the counter was made of wood, but this was my own subtle way of threatening him.

"Y-You truly live up to your title as the Three-Virtue Chef."

"Well, one of my three virtues is martial arts, after all."

"A-Ah, indeed..."

"It feels a bit awkward to toot my own horn, but I did defeat the Drunken King, that great devil of the Northern Yuan. Not to mention the Human-faced Centipede."

With those words, I patted Dong Gyeongdo on the shoulder. Hey, relax. Why are you so tense?

"Aren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you going to continue showing me around?"

"A-Ah, yes. Of course. I must continue the tour. Yes, the tour."

I wasn't some meathead thug, and I hated flexing my muscles, but some people just didn't understand unless you spelled it out for them. Watching Dong Gyeongdo instantly turn groveling and submissive, I clicked my tongue inwardly. If I hadn't known martial arts, they would have treated me like absolute dirt.

When we stepped out of the ice cellar, the other chefs looked bewildered at the sight of Dong Gyeongdo dripping with cold sweat.

"Master Dong, did something happen?"

Seeing Dong Gyeongdo at a loss for words, I kept my hand firmly on his shoulder and answered for him.

"Oh, it was nothing. The Cafeteria Master and I just had a very heartfelt conversation in the ice cellar, and he found it deeply moving. Isn't that right, Cafeteria Master?"

With those words, I squeezed his shoulder, silently warning him to choose his next words carefully. Squeeze!

"Y-Yes! Of course! The Three-Virtue Chef shared some incredibly profound wisdom with me!"

"O-Oh..."

As Dong Gyeongdo stammered out his response while trembling, the other Alliance chefs shot me highly suspicious looks. But did I care? I had just threatened to slice him up with Sword Qi if he didn't behave, so I had absolutely nothing to fear.

Now, it was time to get serious. I had established my dominance, so it was time to talk business.

"So, what is the plan for this banquet?"

Dong Gyeongdo, thoroughly intimidated, quickly replied as if relieved by the shift in topic.

"We plan to use ingredients from all across the Central Plains to symbolize the harmony of the sects aligned with the Murim Alliance."

Harmony through ingredients... This banquet concept immediately brought tangpyeongchae to mind. It was a dish inspired by King Yeongjo's Tangpyeong policy—the very king who became the reason future generations would think of a wooden rice chest as an instrument of execution rather than food storage. It was a tossed salad made of mung bean jelly, water dropwort, seaweed, beef, and mung bean sprouts, designed to represent the political factions of the time through the five traditional colors.

"What dishes do you have prepared?"

"Since Henan is famous for its shiitake mushrooms, we have Braised Shiitake Mushrooms. We also have Coiled Dragon Pork using eggs and Jinhua ham from Zhejiang, Drunken Clams using clams and fine wine from Guangdong, and Stir-Fried King Prawns made with prawns from Jiangsu..."

Every single dish Dong Gyeongdo mentioned was incredibly expensive and luxurious. There were plenty of dishes in there that even I had never tasted before. It was clear the Murim Alliance had spared no expense in preparing for this.

"Then, what dish will the Three-Virtue Chef be preparing...?"

"Since you are emphasizing harmony, I suppose I should make a dish that represents harmony as well."

"Whatever ingredients you need, just ask and we will provide them. You can leave your requests with our youngest apprentice over there."

With those words, Dong Gyeongdo pointed to the youngest, most youthful-looking chef standing at the very end of the line. He looked even younger than me, yet he had already made it into the Murim Alliance kitchen. The young chef, who looked a year or two younger than Seonwoo Seol, walked over and bowed.

"A-Ah... hello! I am Ung Jin! It is an absolute honor to meet the legendary Three-Virtue Chef whose fame resounds throughout the Central Plains...!"

Not only was he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trembling like a leaf, but he also bent his waist at a nearly hundred-and-twenty-degree angle. At this rate, he was going to perform a full kowtow.

"..."

Wait a minute. If he was the youngest apprentice, it meant he hadn't been fully corrupted by the toxic culture of the Alliance kitchen yet. Especially since he was so young. Dong Gyeongdo was clearly trying to dump me onto the youngest kid who couldn't refuse his orders. I had experienced this kind of passive-aggressive delegation plenty of times during my military service. And I knew exactly how to handle it.

I immediately grabbed Ung Jin by the shoulder and began guiding him out of the kitchen.

"Cafeteria Master, I'll be borrowing Chef Ung for a moment."

"Uh... borrowing him, you say?"

"It means I'm taking him with me for a bit. Is that a problem?"

"N-No, go ahead."

Leaving behind a thoroughly bewildered Dong Gyeongdo, I stepped out of the kitchen, which now felt as if a hurricane had just swept through it. They probably needed to clean up and process what had happened anyway, so it was best for the storm to blow over elsewhere.

Besides, the youngest apprentice in a kitchen was basically the equivalent of a fresh corporate recruit. I figured it would be much easier for him to talk outside rather than in a room packed with his overbearing seniors. Once we had put some distance between ourselves and the kitchen, I turned to Ung Jin, who was looking around with a face that practically screamed, How on earth did I get dragged away by Yoon Gomyung?

"Chef Ung."

"Yes! Three-Virtue Chef! Please give me your orders!"

"I'm not some Alliance squad leader. Just treat me normally."

"H-How could I ever speak casually with someone as illustrious as you...!"

"Gomyung is just my name. Don't feel so pressured, and just answer my questions honestly."

"Yes, sir!"

"How long have you been working in the Murim Alliance kitchen?"

"It was around this time last year, so this is my first full year!"

"One year, huh? Where are you from?"

"I was born and raised right here in Henan!"

I started with some light small talk to break the ice. It turned out Ung Jin had been helping his mother run a small food stall before working as an assistant chef. By a stroke of luck, he caught the eye of a high-ranking Alliance official and ended up in the main kitchen. Luck was certainly involved, but he also seemed incredibly hardworking. Man, I wish a kid like him would come work at the Academy kitchen. He could take some of the workload off my shoulders.

Seeing him crack a small smile here and there, I figured the tension had dissipated enough to get to the point.

"So, how do you like working in the Murim Alliance kitchen?"

"There is so much to learn! Especially since the other chefs all come from exclusive high-end restaurants or the private estates of high-ranking officials. Their pride is really something else!"

Ah, that explains it. No wonder they looked down on me. Some random guy suddenly appears out of nowhere and acts as their equal; of course they'd be pissed.

"Have they always been like that?"

"Yes. They have immense pride... Sometimes they even mistreat the lower-ranking martial artists and guards. But they instantly bow and scrape before squad leaders or key figures from other sects."

Classic bullies. Weak against the strong, strong against the weak—nothing but petty cowards. Talking about them any further would only ruin my mood, so I decided to steer the conversation back to work.

"Can you really get me any ingredient I ask for?"

"Of course! Even bird's nest or shark fin can be procured in no time if you request it!"

"Whoa, I don't need anything that expensive, nor do I even want to touch them. I've always preferred making delicious food out of cheap, everyday ingredients."

"Ah! I've heard the rumors! They say the Three-Virtue Chef never uses expensive ingredients, yet coaxes the most exquisite flavors out of things anyone can find!"

I felt a bit embarrassed. I only avoided things like bear paws and bird's nests because I had never used them before, but I guess it painted a very different picture to the public.

"In fact, Beggar's Chicken is a dish that almost every chef in our kitchen has tried to replicate at least once or twice. We could all tell that temperature control was the absolute key to it."

"And how did their attempts go?"

"They usually ended up either completely raw or burnt to a crisp like charcoal. Though, of course, a few managed to bake it quite well."

It was actually quite satisfying to hear that those stiff-necked chefs had tried to copy my recipe.

"I'll teach you the proper recipe later, so you can make it for your mother when you go home. Just don't let your seniors know I gave it to you."

"Thank you so much!"

I wasn't being sarcastic; I could genuinely feel how filial Ung Jin was. You didn't find kids like him very often these days.

"By the way, what did your mother's food stall sell?"

"Scallion pancakes!"

"Scallion pancakes? Isn't that a Shandong dish?"

"That's right! My maternal grandmother was from Shandong..."

Scallion pancakes—or congyoubing—were a dish similar to Korean green onion pancakes, requiring nothing more than flour, green onions, salt, and oil. You rolled the dough out flat, sprinkled a generous amount of finely chopped scallions and a pinch of salt inside, and then rolled it up into a long log. Then, you coiled it into a spiral, pressed it flat like a sweet griddlecake, and pan-fried it until both sides were golden brown.

"I used to eat them all the time when I worked at the tavern. As long as we had green onions growing in the garden, we could whip them up whenever we wanted."

"Ah, exactly! My mother actually makes them with rice flour sometimes. When you use rice flour, they turn out much chewier and crispier than the wheat flour version...!"

Scallion pancakes made with rice flour? Now that was an interesting twist. If I sprinkled some other ingredients in there along with the scallions...

"Hmm?"

"Is something wrong?"

"I just thought of the dish I'm going to present for the banquet."

"Ah... but serving scallion pancakes at a formal banquet seems a bit..."

"I'm not going to serve scallion pancakes. I just thought of a dish that I know will be an absolute hit."

"A hit?"

When I explained the general concept of the dish to Ung Jin, his eyes went wide.

"I've never seen a dish like that before! It's definitely going to work!"

It felt a bit mean to throw cold water on his excitement, but I had to ask a serious question.

"I'm glad to hear that. But tell me, would you be able to procure something like this?"

"What is it?"

"Water buffalo milk."

"Water buffalo milk?"

Ung Jin froze in his tracks at the mention of such an unexpected ingredient.