"We must celebrate your triumphant return from the forest, Young Master, and Senior Sister Lin Mei’s impressive navigation skills!” Fatty Wu clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the courtyard. “I heard about a special restaurant in the marketplace. The Floating Lotus, they call it. It's supposed to be an experience unlike any other, a true culinary adventure!”
“A culinary adventure?” Tian Hao’s eyes lit up, the prospect of a good meal chasing away the lingering tension of the competition and the shadows from their encounter with Feng Liang and Zhu Meng.
“Tell me more.”
“It’s a floating restaurant, Young Master, built on a lotus-shaped platform that glows with ember-lights, surrounded by gentle streams where spirit fish swim freely. The ambiance alone is said to enhance one’s cultivation—or at least, one’s appetite. But that’s not the best part,” he paused for dramatic effect, his voice rising again with barely contained glee.
“It’s a cook-it-yourself establishment! They provide the rarest ingredients, the finest wines, and a special cooking formation built right into the table. You create your own culinary masterpieces right there on the spot!”
“Go on, Fatty Wu,” Lin Mei smiled. “Surprise us.”
“Just try not to bankrupt the sect,” Tian Hao added, still feeling slightly guilty about how many spirit stones that Celestial Harmony Restaurant meal had cost him.
“Excellent!” Fatty Wu clapped his hands together, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I need to visit the market, gather a few… special ingredients. I’ll meet you back here in an hour. Be prepared for a feast that’ll make even a celestial immortal jealous!” With that, he scurried off, his robes billowing behind him like a culinary whirlwind.
As they waited, Tian Hao turned to Lin Mei, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Not bad, Mei Mei, huh? Third place,” he said, his tone a both prideful and playfully teasing. “We make a pretty good team.”
Lin Mei’s gaze softened as she met his, her usual reserve melting away momentarily. "We do make a good team," she admitted.
“We complemented each other in the forest,” she continued, “and when Feng Liang thought he could ambush you..." she shook her head slightly. She had never seen Tian Hao move with such fluidity and determination. She felt a twinge of pride, but also a question: how much more was he capable of, and what had sparked this change? "I haven’t seen you fight like that before, Tian Hao. It was almost as though you had channeled something beyond your own power. I was genuinely surprised. It wasn't just the wine or food.”
Tian Hao gave a bashful shrug. “Perhaps I was just inspired,” he teased. “After all, who wouldn’t want to impress such a formidable warrior?”
Just then, Tian Shou strode over, his robes swaying slightly with each step, his eyes reflecting both approval and a hint of surprise. He paused for a moment, studying them as if weighing his thoughts before speaking. “Well done, both of you. Third place is a respectable finish, and securing the token was quite a feat. You honored the Skyward Lotus Sect today.”
He turned to Tian Hao. “You seem to be improving quickly, son,” he continued, his gaze searching, as if trying to decipher the secret behind his son’s unexpected progress. “Body Refining Stage 7 now, is it? Impressive growth for one who…” he cleared his throat, “Who once struggled to carry their own weight.”
He addressed Lin Mei, who bowed her head in respect, “Lin Mei, your breakthrough to Meridian Refining is a great boon for our sect. We are small, but our strength lies in our collective efforts. Each step forward, each individual’s progress strengthens us all.”
Tian Hao, sensing an opportunity to make the most of the rare compliment, and picturing Fatty Wu’s culinary delight at what might come next, looked at his father, his grin returning now in full.
“Father,” he began, his voice carrying a playful lilt, “since we did so well, I was thinking… perhaps a small reward would be in order?” He gave a sheepish smile. “I’m sure even the heavens themselves would agree that such dedication to the greater good should be well compensated.”
Tian Shou raised an eyebrow, though a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He let out a small sigh. “A reward, Tian Hao?” he echoed. “You’ve already been indulging yourself in Skyveil City’s finest establishments, haven’t you?”
Tian Hao grinned even wider. “Ah, Father, you know me so well, but a true cultivator never stops seeking improvement,” he added.
Tian Shou, his lips twitching slightly at his son’s blatant attempt at financial manipulation, sighed dramatically and pulled out a small, heavy pouch from his spatial ring.
“Very well, Tian Hao. Take this. For your… exceptional performance.”
“Lin Mei,” he continued, his voice now more formal, “visit the technique hall upon our return. There is a skill I believe might enhance your particular abilities.”
He looked at them both once more. “We need all the help we can get,” his voice was quiet, and his gaze intense as he spoke. “The Skyward Lotus Sect is no longer the great sect it once was. Its influence wanes. Every bit of honor earned by a disciple ripples outwards, creates a stronger foundation.”
With a final nod of approval, he turned and walked away, leaving Tian Hao and Lin Mei standing there.
Tian Hao glanced at the heavy pouch now sitting in his hand.
“He’s not as grumpy as he seems, is he?” Tian Hao said, jingling the pouch of spirit stones. “Perhaps beneath that stern facade, there’s a soft heart just waiting to break free.”
Lin Mei chuckled. “Don’t push your luck, Tian Hao,” she warned.
Just then, Fatty Wu returned, practically bouncing with excitement, his arms laden with bags of exotic ingredients. “Young Master! You won’t believe what I found!” he exclaimed, his round face beaming.
“Rare spirit herbs, exotic spices, and the finest cut of Sky Serpent Scales. Tonight, we feast!” He held up a particularly large, lumpy root, its surface pulsing faintly with a strange, ethereal light. “This,” he announced, his voice filled with awe and playful mystery, “is the ‘Heart of the Earth’ root. Said to enhance one’s connection to the earth element. It’s the key ingredient for my special dish. A secret weapon, if you will.”
“Secret weapon?” Tian Hao laughed. “You’re turning into quite the strategist, Fatty Wu. What else have you got hidden in those bags?”
Fatty Wu shook his head. “A culinary master never reveals all of his secrets, Young Master. You’ll just have to wait and see.” He gave a theatrical bow, somehow preventing the stack of ingredients from tumbling to the ground, “Prepare to be amazed.”
With Fatty Wu leading the way, Tian Hao and Lin Mei walked side by side, their footsteps in sync as they navigated through Skyveil City.
"I wonder what this 'Floating Lotus' is really like," Tian Hao mused aloud, glancing at Lin Mei. "Fatty Wu sure made it sound like something out of a dream."
Lin Mei nodded, her eyes scanning the bustling streets around them. "Knowing Fatty Wu, it's either going to be incredible or a complete disaster," she replied with a hint of a smile. "Though, I have to admit, the idea of cooking our own food sounds interesting."
Tian Hao smiled. "Interesting, yes, but also dangerous. Remember that time he tried to 'enhance' the spirit soup with those mushrooms he found? I thought I'd never recover."
Lin Mei let out a soft laugh. "Maybe this time will be different. He seems genuinely excited, and the Floating Lotus sounds prestigious."
Their conversation continued as they followed Fatty Wu, their banter easing the tension from earlier. As they approached the lake, they saw the first glimmers of light, and their voices trailed off, awe taking over as they beheld the Floating Lotus.
There, floating serenely on a shimmering lake, was a series of lotus-shaped platforms glowing with amber-lights, surrounded by gentle streams of crystal-clear water that seemed to flow from thin air.
Willows wept gracefully over the edges of the floating restaurant, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze as if to offer a welcoming embrace. Lotus flowers bloomed in vibrant hues—crimson, gold, and deep violet. Soft music, an interplay of flutes and zithers, drifted on the air, creating a serene atmosphere as though the restaurant itself had conjured some unseen musicians to enhance not just the meal, but its very purpose—a culinary haven where even the most stressed of cultivators might, if only for a moment, forget their duties.
Lanterns, shaped like miniature moons, cast a soft, ethereal glow across the scene, creating an otherworldly ambiance. Small boats, each crafted from polished jade and guided by unseen currents, ferried guests to and from the platform.
The walls were made of translucent jade panels, carved with delicate images of blooming lotuses and celestial beasts. The light that filtered through these panels created an otherworldly ambiance, as if one had stepped into a realm beyond the realm of mortal eyes.
The sight was breathtaking, a testament to the boundless creativity of Skyveil's architectural cultivators, as if the very restaurant was not just a place to dine, but also to cultivate the spirit through sheer magnificence.
“Whoa,” Tian Hao breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “This is incredible. It looks even better than you described."
Jiuwei, perched on his shoulder, let out a rare nod of approval. “Finally,” she declared, her tone softening despite her best efforts to remain unimpressed. "Something worthy of the Celestial Conclave. A dining experience beyond mere indulgence—almost art.”
Tian Hao's eyes widened briefly, It wasn't often that Jiuwei offered praise.
The group boarded a jade boat, feeling the smooth, cool surface beneath their fingers as they settled in. The boat glided silently across the water, the gentle lapping of waves creating a calming rhythm.
Tian Hao felt the crisp breeze on his face, carrying the faint scent of lotus blossoms. Lin Mei watched the reflections of city lights dance on the rippling surface, her heart lifting with quiet excitement. Moments later, the boat touched down on the floating restaurant’s platform.
A server—dressed in flowing, moonlight-blue robes—approached, bowing deeply and beckoned them towards a table near the edge, where they could enjoy an unobstructed view of the city lights twinkling in the distance.
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“Greetings, honored guests,” the server said. “Welcome to the Floating Lotus. We are delighted to have you join us. Before you begin, allow me to explain our unique dining experience. Our Infernal Hearthstone is a culinary marvel—a formation-infused cooking stone, built into each table. It allows you to prepare your own meals with the finest ingredients we have to offer," the server explained, gesturing towards the table.
He smiled and added, "Each stone is attuned to a different element—fire, water, earth, and air—allowing you to create dishes with unique flavor profiles." He paused, giving the group a moment to take in the information, before nodding encouragingly. "If you have any questions, I'm here to assist."
The server presented them with menus crafted from woven silk. “Please, examine our menu. We have a wide selection of spirit beast meats, rare herbs, and exotic spices. Our culinary experts are also available to offer guidance and assistance.”
Fatty Wu, his eyes gleaming, gestured to his bags. “We brought our own ingredients.”
He unveiled his treasures—the Cloud Ear Fungus, Shadowfen Frog Legs, Nightshade Spirit Berries, Sky Serpent Scales, Thunder Serpent Root, a pinch of Ghost Pepper Dust and the magnificent Heart of the Earth root—laying them out on the table with a dramatic flourish.
The server’s eyes widened as he took in the sight.
“Impressive,” he murmured, “very impressive. Though, might I suggest a few additions? The Heavenly Spice Blend enhances the flavor of the Sky Serpent and brings out those subtle 'earth' tones. As for the Nightshade berries, a drizzle of Honeycomb Elixir cuts through their sharpness and…”
Fatty Wu nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the server’s suggestions. He’d come prepared, but the sheer variety of ingredients available, the novelty of the cooking formation, had ignited his culinary imagination.
At a nearby table, a young cultivator—dressed in the ostentatious gold and crimson robes of the Golden Feather Sect—leaned over, his voice dripping with disdain, and spoke just loud enough to reach their table, the challenge clear.
“Commonplace ingredients, hardly worthy of the Celestial Conclave.” He gestured towards his own table, where a spread of even rarer, more exotic items glistened under the soft glow of the ember-lights. “Now these, my friends, are what true culinary masters use. I’ve got Shadow Dragon steak—harvested from a beast whose breath could melt mountains!” he added with a flourish.
He began preparing his meal, his movements exaggerated, each flick of the wrist a display of his supposed mastery. Flames danced around his wok, his noodles twisting and twirling in the air.
Fatty Wu, his pride stung, narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing into a determined line. His chest swelling with a surge of defiant energy, his culinary spirit ignited. “Challenge accepted,” he muttered under his breath.
Without a word, a silent challenge began between the two cultivators, each one intent on creating the most impressive dish, their rivalry as clear to those assembled as any formal duel—and drawing far more curious whispers and stares.
The air seemed to thicken with tension, as if the outcome of their culinary battle held weight beyond mere pride, the crowd's anticipation growing palpable with each movement of their blades and flicker of the cooking flames.
Fatty Wu with his prized ingredients on the table before him began chopping, each slice a calculated movement, the sharp clink of his knife echoing through the bustling restaurant. He ground spices with practiced ease, his motions honed by years of experience, transforming the preparation of a feast into something akin to a meditation dance.
The table quickly filled with chopping boards, exotic ingredients, transforming their refined space into something resembling an alchemical lab.
Tian Hao leaned over to Lin Mei. “Looks like Fatty Wu’s found his fire,” he said.
“Oh yes,” Lin Mei whispered. "This is should be good.”
Jiuwei, settled comfortably nearby, let out an amused snort, her tail twitching in anticipation.
The Golden Feather cultivator smirked and leaned over to his companions. "This Lan Feiyu, the culinary genius of the Golden Feather Sect, shall show them all," he declared with a flourish, his voice carrying just enough volume for those nearby to hear. "Only the finest ingredients for the finest hands." He then began preparing his dishes with a flurry of skill and dramatic flair, each movement calculated to draw attention.
He channeled bursts of Qi into the cooking stone, the surface glowing with intense heat. Flames danced around his wok, as he tossed and turned ingredients with gravity-defying agility, each movement intended not just to cook, but to impress. His noodles twisted and twirled in the air, taking on the shapes of blooming flowers. Sauces shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, each dish a spectacle of culinary alchemy.
Fatty Wu, who wasn't able to channel external Qi at his stage, countered with his own brand of culinary magic. He moved with surprising speed, his hands a blur of motion as he expertly sliced, diced, and julienned vegetables.
Tian Hao, Lin Mei, and Jiuwei cheered on Fatty Wu, their laughter and encouragement adding to the lively atmosphere.
“Shadow Dragon meat is known for its tough sinew,” Lin Mei announced loudly enough for those at the next table, and several others around her and Tian Hao's, to overhear, adding an edge to her commentary. "Unless prepared carefully, it's far more challenging to even chew. Quite the feat, to make the very finest meats more closely resemble boot leather."
“Go, Fatty Wu, go!” Tian Hao yelled. “Show them what a true culinary master can do! Show them we don’t just excel with swords, but also spoons!”
“Remember the Sky Serpent Scales!” Lin Mei added, her voice playful, "and what would go well with those rare Nightshade Spirit Berries? Perhaps something with the Heart of the Earth root?"
Jiuwei, however, perched on the table, her gaze locked on the flying foodstuffs, merely sniffed, though there was a flicker of pride in her expression.
“Less talking, more cooking,” she muttered to the others, her earlier disdain slowly melting under the weight of such intoxicating aromas. "Don't embarrass me again, human. The reputation of Skyward Lotus—and the quality of this fox’s meal—depends on your performance.”
The two tables, with their clashing culinary styles, became the center of attention, and before long, a crowd began to gather, drawn by the spectacle. Diners from other sects paused in their own meals, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding competition. Whispers and murmurs echoed through the restaurant, as everyone watched, fascinated, eager to see who would emerge victorious in this battle of culinary arts.
"Honestly, Mei Mei," Tian Hao whispered, "That guy's so over-the-top, he looks like he's auditioning for the Heavenly Court's 'Kitchen God' position."
Lin Mei snorted, her shoulders shaking as laughter tried to breach her lips before her lips curled. “You are incorrigible!” She looked at Fatty Wu. "Show him how we roll. But don’t accidentally set fire to his perfectly styled hair."
Fatty Wu lifted the first of his finished dishes.
The Shadowfen Frog Legs, now far removed from their previous musky scent, exhaled aromatic whispers of deep forests—steamed in lotus leaves and garnished with golden slivers of flame-dried Sky Serpent Scales whose shimmering threads seemed like starlight, woven carefully across the flaky tenderness.
“Behold!” he announced, gesturing at his creation with a flourish, his voice filled with pride and mockery, each word aimed to strike at their rival. “The Shadowfen Serenade—a dish that celebrates the hidden wonders of this world.
Tian Hao burst into laughter, clapping his hands loudly. "Fatty Wu, you've outdone yourself! That presentation is almost as dramatic as Lan Feiyu's hairdo!"
Lin Mei chuckled, nodding. "I can practically see the stars in those serpent scales."
The onlookers murmured in amusement, some laughing aloud, while others nodded in admiration. The tension in the air was briefly replaced by the cheer of the crowd, their excitement palpable as they awaited Lan Feiyu's reaction.
Lan Feiyu, his earlier confidence now crumbling under the weight of Fatty Wu's first dish, tried desperately to match the momentum. His hands shook as he worked, sweat dripping from his forehead, his fingers trembling over each ingredient. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and his eyes darted frantically from his sizzling wok to the ingredients, his movements losing their earlier grace and becoming increasingly erratic.
Fatty Wu continued to move swiftly, the clang of the ladle against the pot reverberating through the room as he began his next dish. His hands moved with precision, grabbing the Cloud Ear Fungus and slicing it deftly, each cut releasing a faint, almost ethereal scent. He tossed it into a deep iron cauldron, the water hissing as it met the fungus. The Thunder Serpent Root came next—he grated it swiftly, the shavings falling like golden snowflakes into the bubbling broth. The aroma began to change, a charge melding with the warmth of the soup.
With a flourish, Fatty Wu took a pinch of Ghost Pepper Dust. "This," he announced, "is where the magic happens." He let the bright red powder fall slowly, deliberately, into the cauldron. The broth hissed in response, a plume of steam rising dramatically as the spicy essence infused into the liquid.
He stirred the pot with practiced ease, his motions fluid and graceful. The onlookers watched in rapt attention as the stew's color deepened, taking on a rich, fiery hue. Fatty Wu tasted a spoonful, nodding approvingly. "Thundercloud Inferno Stew!" he declared, pouring the steaming broth into a bowl.
He garnished it with a final touch—fresh sprigs of moonlit basil—their crisp fragrance adding a light, refreshing finish that danced in the air. The crowd leaned forward, captivated by the transformation. The interplay of charge, spice, and fresh notes promised a complexity that would contrast sharply with the delicacy of the Shadowfen Frog Legs.
Tian Hao's eyes widened, and he let out a whistle. "Now that's a stew!" Lin Mei nodded, her smile beaming. "Fatty Wu, you never fail to amaze." The onlookers burst into cheers and applause, their excitement like a wave washing over the entire platform.
Lan Feiyu pushed himself faster, his movements growing erratic. Sweat beaded on his brow, his eyes darting between the ingredients as they sizzled and hissed. His voice, once filled with confidence, now cracked under the pressure. "This... this will be a masterpiece! Just wait—" The words came out strained, more a plea than a proclamation.
Fatty Wu unveiled the Heart of the Earth root, its earthen aroma permeating the entire restaurant, grounding everyone in the present moment. His hands moved deftly as he carved the root, each motion deliberate, extracting its essence as if coaxing life from the earth itself. He then added the sliced root to a large iron skillet, heating it gently to release its full flavor.
He reached for the gourd containing the honey from Skyveil bees, pouring it directly into the skillet. As the honey met the heat, it crackled faintly, its golden essence melding with the root. The sweet fragrance filled the air, the honey and root combining into a rich, aromatic glaze. Fatty Wu stirred them together, the radiant glow slowly enveloping the mixture, as if nature itself were rejoicing in this union.
Fatty Wu carefully moved the honey-root and allowed it to simmer, infusing it with additional warmth and depth of flavor. As the glaze thickened, he added a few crushed Nightshade Spirit Berries to balance the sweetness, creating a dish that shimmered faintly, a delicate interplay of elemental flavors. As it reached a state of perfection, Fatty Wu tipped the skillet, allowing it all to flow into the gourd that previously contained the honey.
Fatty Wu lifted the finished creation, his voice resonating through the room. "Behold, the Heart of the Earth Delight!" The surface shimmered with a faint, earthen glow, the aroma an intricate dance of earthy notes, subtle spices, and a touch of skyborne sweetness. The grounded, earthen flavors of the Heart of the Earth root melded seamlessly with the uplifting, ethereal touch of Skyveil honey.
The nearby diners leaned in, their eyes wide with anticipation, their stomachs rumbling with newfound hunger.
The aromas, amplified by the restaurant’s subtle formations, reached the rival table. Lan Feiyu, turned, his eyes wide, as he took in the scene before him.
The pressure mounting, his hands returned to moving in a flurry, the flames licking hungrily at the base of his wok, casting restless shadows across the table. The spirit herbs, each bursting with vibrant color, seemed almost unruly—pulsing and resisting his attempts to control them. The powerful scent of star anise collided sharply with the biting aroma of cinnamon, the clash overwhelming his senses, clouding his judgment.
Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss, followed by the acrid scent of something burning. Lan Feiyu's eyes widened, disbelief etched across his face as he stared at the smoking wok. "No... no!" he muttered, panic setting in as he realized his failure. The flames roared, but the dish was lost—its vibrant potential now reduced to charred remains.
In a final act of frustration, he flung the burnt creation to the floor, the clattering sound echoing through the restaurant. The thick, bitter smoke curled upwards, a testament to his arrogance now turned to ash. The room fell silent, the once-proud cultivator left standing amidst the remnants of his defeat.
“What a shame,” Jiuwei muttered dryly, a sly grin spreading across her tiny muzzle as she watched the scene unfold, her voice soft but clearly audible to Tian Hao and Lin Mei. “Perhaps he should stick to theatrics.”
Lan Feiyu, finally turned to Fatty Wu, an expression of grudging respect and wounded pride shifting across his face.
“I… must admit,” he conceded, though his voice was tight, and his earlier arrogance still shone brightly in his posture as his shoulders tensed. "You might have some skill after all… for someone without any Qi enhancements.”
Fatty Wu, beaming with pride, bowed theatrically. “Ah, flattery from a ‘master’ like yourself is praise indeed," he replied, the words a gentle jab, though his voice was laced with amusement and the confidence of his own hard-won skill. “It’s just a little… culinary creativity.”
As the night came to a close, Tian Hao and his companions savored the last remnants of the exquisite dishes and fine wine, each bite, each sip a sweet reminder that even a feast such as this can be a form of cultivation, an act of alchemy.
Jiuwei, full and content, curled up on Tian Hao's lap, her earlier haughtiness replaced by a warmth that had begun to settle like an old affection.