What Kind of Fragrance Is This?
As dawn broke, the whole of West Lake began to stir. Today was the third round of the Central Plains’ Finest Culinary Contest—essentially the final in all but name.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Drums rolled from afar. Crowds poured like storm clouds toward every road that led to West Lake’s central plaza.
“Hurry! There won’t be any seats left!”
“The spectacles today are going to be incredible!”
“Who do you think will take the championship?”
Yet the kitchen of the West Lake Number One Inn remained as peaceful as ever.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Kang Yeon was preparing breakfast just as he always did—cracking eggs, slicing green onions, simmering soup.
“Oppa!”
Jo Seol burst in, her face flushed with excitement.
“It’s pure chaos outside! The plaza is packed solid with people!”
Muk Hyang-ru clicked his tongue as he peered out the window.
“Incredible. That many people… all here for today’s match?”
Kang Yeon tasted the broth with a ladle and answered mildly.
“Seems so.”
Muk Hyang-ru asked, a little uneasy,
“But… are you sure you don’t need to prepare?”
Kang Yeon wiped his hands on a towel and smiled.
“What’s there to be nervous about? I’ve got such an excellent assistant right here.”
Muk Hyang-ru’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile.
Just then Jin Mu-gyeong came down from the second floor.
“Yeon, I found something important after digging all night.”
Jin Mu-gyeong’s investigative skills never disappointed.
“Oh?”
Jin Mu-gyeong lowered his voice.
“That strange energy you sensed… I tracked it. Someone among the contestants really did try sabotage with internal energy.”
Curiosity lit Kang Yeon’s eyes.
“Who?”
“Baek Mi-rang.”
Silence fell over the inn. Jo Seol asked, startled,
“Baek Mi-rang? That old man?”
Jin Mu-gyeong nodded.
“Looks harmless, but he’s packing serious internal power. Last night he slipped around the inns where other contestants were practicing and did something.”
“Did what?”
“Released tiny threads of energy to interfere with their cooking or scatter their concentration. Very subtle work.”
Muk Hyang-ru bristled.
“That’s cheating! We should report him right now!”
Kang Yeon stayed calm.
“Got proof?”
“Well… it’s so faint that hard evidence would be tough.”
Of course no trace would remain of internal energy used to disrupt cooking.
Even if Gourmet Appraiser Yun Tae-ho had trained enough to notice, without a way to prove it to others it could look like biased interference from a judge.
“So why resort to tricks like that?”
“Probably thinks his own skill isn’t enough. Especially with you in the picture.”
Jo Seol fretted,
“Then couldn’t Oppa get hit by it too?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Jin Mu-gyeong and Nang Hyeon both went blank-faced. Jo Seol realized her mistake.
“Ah… right. I forgot again.”
Muk Hyang-ru tilted his head, lost.
“What? Is there something only I don’t know?”
Mischief flickered in Kang Yeon’s eyes.
“This might get interesting.”
West Lake Central Plaza.
“Whoa…”
Jo Seol gasped the instant they arrived. The heat dwarfed even the previous finals; the plaza she had always thought spacious was now a sea of people. Temporary stands were packed to capacity. In the center stood fifty cooking stations. Contestants already waited at most of them.
Three stations drew every eye.
“All right! Recheck every single ingredient!”
Geum Su-do barked orders. Dozens of assistant chefs truly stood behind him. On his counter, a golden dragon-scale fish lay proudly displayed amid every rare ingredient imaginable.
“Golden dragon-scale fish condition confirmed!”
“Thousand-year mountain ginseng ready!”
“Volcanic snowflame standing by!”
The operation looked terrifyingly organized.
Chef Cheong Yeon had only one assistant, yet her tools glittered like art pieces—a white-jade cutting board, crystal-inlaid knives, silk-wrapped spice boxes. Even compared with what Muk Hyang-ru had once produced, they were hard to rank.
“Beautiful…”
Spectators murmured in awe. Cooking hadn’t even begun and it already felt like an exhibition.
Baek Mi-rang sat quietly in meditation. Only a few plain wooden boxes rested before him. Yet a faint fragrance drifted from those boxes.
“That old man feels different somehow…”
And then there was the station that held every Hangzhou local’s attention.
“Huh?”
People frowned. The counter was empty.
“Where’s Chef Kang?”
“He didn’t forfeit, did he?”
Right then—
“Sorry! We’re late!”
Kang Yeon appeared with Muk Hyang-ru, carrying nothing but an ordinary market basket.
“What’s that?”
“Just a shopping basket?”
“Look at everyone else’s setup. How’s he supposed to compete with that?”
Whispers rippled. Kang Yeon ignored them and took his place at the station.
“Apologies for the delay.”
He greeted the other contestants. Geum Su-do snorted.
“Hmph. Showing up to the final with only that? Laughable.”
Chef Cheong Yeon offered an elegant smile.
“Chef Kang is always so modest. But today you’ll have to show us your true skill.”
Only Baek Mi-rang watched Kang Yeon in silence.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Drums thundered and the plaza fell quiet. The judging panel entered under every gaze. Yun Tae-ho led, followed by Baek Mi-ong. And last—
“Huh?”
A mysterious figure in a face veil appeared.
“Who is that?”
“A secret judge?”
Yun Tae-ho mounted the platform and roared,
“Everyone! At last the third round of the Central Plains’ Finest Culinary Contest begins!”
Cheers exploded.
“This match is special! It is not mere technique we judge, but each chef’s culinary philosophy!”
Yun Tae-ho’s voice rang out.
“Time limit: one shichen! Create the dish you would stake your entire life upon!”
Geum Su-do rolled up his sleeves and declared with swagger,
“My dish will be ‘The Emperor’s Banquet’! I shall pack every delicacy under heaven into a single bowl!”
Chef Cheong Yeon bowed gracefully.
“I have prepared the Immortal Maiden’s Feast. Beauty and flavor, both will be satisfied.”
Baek Mi-rang simply nodded.
“This old man will recreate a grandfather’s memories. I mean to revive the traditional flavors that are fading away.”
Every gaze locked on Kang Yeon. One by one he drew ordinary ingredients from the basket.
Eggs, rice, a small earthen jar of sauce, green onions, garlic…
“Those are…”
“I half expected it, but they really are just everyday ingredients.”
“He’s seriously going to cook with that again?”
Kang Yeon spoke calmly.
“I will make my mother’s home cooking.”
For a heartbeat the plaza went still.
“I will create a dish that shows my philosophy.”
Muk Hyang-ru stepped to his side and nodded. Before facing Kang Yeon he had believed dazzling technique was everything; now he understood.
What true cooking meant.
Yun Tae-ho raised his hand.
“Then begin!”
Giiing—!
The gong crashed and the chefs moved as one. Eyes fixed especially on four stations.
Geum Su-do’s counter was pure frenzy.
“Begin dressing the golden dragon-scale fish!”
His blade flashed, dismantling the massive golden-scaled fish. Every cut was precise; each part was separated for its purpose.
“Organs aside! Bones for stock! Flesh for roasting!”
Assistants raced. One side sliced thousand-year ginseng paper-thin; another steeped volcanic snowflame.
“Whoa… look at that knife work!”
“He’s breaking down a golden dragon-scale fish that fast!”
The crowd marveled. Chef Cheong Yeon moved as if dancing. Thousand-year snow-lotus petals fell one by one from her fingers.
Shhhk— shhhk—
“That’s… art.”
“She’s not cooking—she’s creating a masterpiece.”
Every ingredient she touched became a sculpture.
Baek Mi-rang moved slowly yet surely. Each wooden box he opened released a mysterious fragrance.
“Those sauces smell incredible.”
“You can already taste the depth in the aroma alone.”
His hands were unhurried, yet every motion carried meaning, as though decades of wisdom flowed from his fingertips.
Whoooosh—!
A towering blaze erupted from Geum Su-do’s station. Golden flames from roasting the dragon-scale fish were spectacular.
The crowd roared.
“Woooah!”
Chef Cheong Yeon arranged lotus-shaped ingredients one by one on the plate, like planting a garden.
“Wow? It’s so pretty!”
Baek Mi-rang remained quiet, yet a rich savory scent already filled the air—the deep perfume of traditional fermented sauces blended together. For a moment his sharp gaze flicked toward Kang Yeon. Muk Hyang-ru, caught in that look, tilted his head.
“Hey, Kang Yeon.”
He edged closer, worried.
“Why does that Baek Mi-rang keep staring daggers at us?”
“Does he? Don’t worry about it.”
Then a faint energy began to ride the air.
Ssshk.
Kang Yeon’s eyes sharpened. Baek Mi-rang was using internal energy to scramble the other contestants’ sense of smell—so subtle that ordinary people, even most martial artists, would never notice.
Oh… interesting.
Baek Mi-rang was scattering a powder that dulled the nose, riding his qi to spread it wide. His control of range was decent; he had clearly trained solid martial arts.
Of course, to Kang Yeon it was merely amusing.
He’s used this trick often, hasn’t he.
Already several chefs were affected.
“Weird… why can’t I smell anything properly?”
“Should I add more spices?”
Confused cooks began dumping in far more seasoning than usual. Excess spice would wreck the balance of any dish.
Even Geum Su-do looked rattled.
“What the… I measured the right amount…”
Chef Cheong Yeon frowned and touched her nose.
“Suddenly my sense of smell…”
Kang Yeon remained unruffled. He lightly blocked Baek Mi-rang’s interference—and then began reversing control of that very energy.
Woom.
The power that rolled from Kang Yeon’s body shattered Baek Mi-rang’s internal energy in an instant. Baek Mi-rang’s pupils shook violently.
Impossible…
He panicked, about to pour out stronger qi—then froze. The veiled judge on the panel was staring straight at him.
Tch…
Pretending nothing had happened, Baek Mi-rang returned to his cooking. Having neutralized the sabotage, Kang Yeon’s station stayed quiet as ever.
“Is he going to start now?”
“He’ll begin making something soon enough.”