They had defeated the transmigrator assault force sent out by… well, they don’t really matter. Not like whoever they were is all that important, eh? Nonetheless, our brave protagonists were no closer to solving the essential mysteries than when they had started, namely:

1. Who set up this defensive formation?

2. Why did they set up this defensive formation?

3. What purpose does such a defensive formation serve, especially in a noodle shop?

4. How can we replicate this defensive formation for the benefit of all noodle shop enthusiasts?

5. What tastes better - thin noodles, or thick noodles?

Before they could answer these crucial questions, however, they had to stop and rest. Hong may not have broken a sweat, but Mu was in dire need of a break and a snack, and Xian and Yuan could also have used a rest.

Also, it had been a really long time since any of them had peed.

Hong hollowed out a convenient side room with his fists - just off the side of a nice, spacious cavern - and they took turns doing their business. The Author, who had written himself into not having bodily functions, waited in the cavern.

Yuan turned out to be the only one in the party who could cook, so he used the bathroom first, washing himself off with the Instant Cleaning Technique before beginning to make a delicious tasty snack for the group.

Xian returned from the hollowed out corner, where she was doing nothing at all - because a lady is a perfect butterfly who doesn't release icky bodily fluids - and squatted down beside Yuan. Her smile was strangely warm as she contemplated him, eventually reaching a conclusion.

She patted him on the head. “There there. It must have been hard.”

Yuan debated asking her what the reason for this sudden about face was, but frankly it was so much an advantage over the former treatment that he decided not to complain, instead leaning into the headpats for more.

They were still like that when Mu and Hong found them - the former back from the bathroom, the latter back from laying a trap array around their cavern (the Noodle Shop Advance Cultivator Detection Formation, typically installed before construction on a new noodle shop in case of approaching cultivators).

Neither said anything about the two canoodling cultivators, with Hong only observing, “the dumplings are burning.”

Yuan hurriedly saved the dumplings, face burning, and the four ate their meal. It was a swift affair, done mostly in silence, barring a few compliments from Hong and one unusually sentimental one from Xian. When they were done and had cleaned up they went once more on their way.

Hong was leading them upwards and inwards, towards the centre of the formation. That, he reasoned, would likely be where the designers of the formation were, for the centre of a formation was always its strongest part.

His eyes, ringed in their golden formations, tracked every detail of the stonework, and he scribbled constantly on a notepad as they went. He was basically lost to the others, Mu noticed with some amusement, muttering comments under his lips as he tried to crack the secret of the formation.

Onwards and upwards they went, hands running on the stone, occasionally pausing to dispel an apparition. Onwards and upwards, until Hong - still at the front of the pack - mistakenly sent something flying with a kick.

It clanged as it banged off the wall, hitting the floor with a clatter. It then spun briefly - the noise irksome in the extreme - before coming to a rest in front of the wary party.

After a moment they could see what new dread monstrosity now confronted them: a wok.

The ancient cooking instrument lay on the ground, no worse for wear after its surprise tumble, dirty but undented and unbothered by age. Though perhaps slightly more ornate than other pieces of cooking equipment it was a fairly normal wok, liable to be unmissed.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The eyes of Yuan and Xian bugged out of their heads. This was it; this was the object of their search, of all their trials and tribulations. This was the object which would bring them-

Hong picked up the wok.

Yuan’s shoulders sagged in relief. He may have not acquired the Wondrous Enchanted Wok of Xufu O’Paddyhaddy for himself, but so long as Xian didn’t, its owner didn’t matter.

Xian’s eyes bugged out of her head. She couldn’t believe this. Hong had managed to stymie her in her search again. How was she supposed to get revenge against Yuan Shi at this rate?

And then she remembered. Instantly her face cleared, returning to its contented and happy smile. She gave Yuan a squeeze on the shoulder and drew him into a hug as Hong examined the cooking implement.

He waved it at the rest of the party. “Do you know what this means? It means we’re near the surface.”

And sure enough it wasn’t long until they opened a trapdoor and found themselves once more on what was passing for the main floor of the restaurant, the endless geometrically implausible halls a sore relief to those who were long tired of tunnels and darkness.

Here Hong paused, turning to face the party. He nodded at the three co-adventurers. “I need to find the centre of this formation, finish identifying it, and deactivate it. Mu, as my sidekick, needs to come along with me. But the two of you were dragged on this quest largely by mistake, and it would be unfair to force you to risk your lives trying to finish it. Do you want me to take you to the front door of the restaurant first, where you can wait for me to disable the formation, or would you like to come with me?”

Yuan and Xian both signified their desire to continue. Neither could imagine a creature capable of threatening Hong.

Accepting their wills with good grace Hong once more began his trek down the paths. The wood warped around them in strange patterns, the mist rose like walls to surround them, and the apparitions grew ever thicker, monstrous smears glowing against the darkness.

Leering forms shambled out of the black, surrounding the party, staring at them from bulbous and misplaced eyes, hooting, gibbering, cackling, waving their horns and tentacles and feathers and flagella about.

An orange-red creature with a ridge of scales, a colossal horn on its nose, and six too many arms roared at them, exposing a mouthful of fangs. A cloudy creature with thirty pupils but no eyes ululated harshly as it bounced up and down on one rubbery, spring-like leg. A skeletal goliath with arms thrice as long and twice as thick as its body padded slowly towards them, the eyes in its four dozen heads blank and unblinking.

And that was in but one moment. The creatures, however, did not stay still from moment to moment, their shapes ever shifting, so that what was the orange-red armed thing grew five feet, its two eyes becoming one, and the bones of the goliath turned into pure shadow.

Behind these came a hundred other horrors, leaping and gyrating and transmuting and howling as they encircled the party, their tracks like a warband.

Xian shivered, drawing nearer to Yuan. “These beasts are horrifying. I’m grateful that they are mere apparitions - I have no clue what I would do if we had to fight them.”

Hong paused, staring at Xian in confusion. “But they’re not mere apparitions. They’re entirely real - and probably the crafters of the formation, too.”

And with those comforting words he turned back to the path, placing his feet carefully on the magically distended floorboards as he strode forward to reach the goliath.

The two stopped in front of one another. To one side the towering goliath - its skeletal structure reformed into pure white crystal, an extra socket in each of its skulls, and a staff in its hand. The staff was made of a solid black wood, without any sign of grains, jagged carvings glowing red from within. The pictures depicted on them were… deeply unsettling, and the blood of any who gazed upon it seemed to freeze, then flow strangely, sending pain and discomfort flickering across their bodies.

To the other side was Hong. The young man had his hands tucked into his old robe, eyes as blank as the skeletons’ as he stood firm and unbending.

There was a pause in the rushing of the warband, the monsters standing still, and for the first time it occurred to the mortals just how much noise they’d been making. It wasn’t just the howling; it was the sound of their passing, a rushing of wind that grated against the ear. Their silence was a source of profound relief, until the watching gaze of the monsters - had they eyes or not - created a pressure that was far worse than any sound.

The skeletal goliath slammed its staff on the ground. Sparks of fire flew off the carvings, spitting as they hissed on the floor. From its dozens of misshapen heads - no longer recognisable as the shape of mortal man - came forth one colossal head, sitting in the midst of the rest like a particularly repulsive fruit.

This head calmly contemplated Hong, who was as yet unbothered by the monstrosities confronting them.

“Ah,” it boomed, its one huge head speaking with the voices of hundreds. The hall shook with its speech. “You must be cultivators - welcome, welcome. You’re just on time… on time to help us with our project.”