Hui wandered along the gardens, searching. A few Jade Garden Peak disciples tended to their gardens, hunching over plants to feed them qi or carefully watering them. None of them gave Hui a second glance.

He moved confidently, enjoying his stroll. Ahead, a stand of tall, bright green shoots caught his eye. Leeks! Can’t have duck without them.

He glanced left and right. Seeing no one around, he bent and examined the leeks closely. Most stood tall and young, a brilliant green, but back in the shadows of their fellows, a few grew smaller, a yellow tinge to their shoots. Drawing his sword, he cut a pair of the yellowed, sick-looking leek shoots, leaving the roots and bulb. Like this, it should be fine, right? They can regrow their shoots. It isn’t going to hurt them at all. I’d ask for permission, or pay, but there isn’t anyone around, and the duck’s going to go bad sooner rather than later.

Besides, I picked the worst ones. Surely no one will mind?

Still a little guilty, he left a pair of gold coins beside the leeks. They’re only leeks in the end. I’m probably overpaying, but… I’ll feel better this way.

Hurrying along, he picked his way upward, seeking out the ginger Li Xiang mentioned. A grove of trees up and to the right caught his eye. Orange glistened among the shiny leaves. His eyes widened, and he leaped up, hopping two terraces in one go. A faint citrus scent breezed through the air. He mounted the final terrace and grinned. Squat fruits hung from the trees’ branches, warty skin a brilliant orange.

Satsumas! Perfect!

He picked his way through the trees, mindful of the branches and leaves. The trees hung heavy with fruit. Toward the back of the grove, a bent old tree hung low, worn branches almost too weak to hold its paltry crop of fruit. He drew his sword again and freed a pair of satsumas from the tree. I’m doing this poor old tree a service, honestly.

Slipping the satsuma into his bag, he stepped back, a hand to his chin. It’s just a satsuma or two off the tree. It isn’t even something that needs to grow back!

No, no. Respect farmers! Respect the efforts of food-growers! He left a gold coin at the foot of the tree.

I really feel like I overpaid this time, but… well, I can’t be disrespectful! They put in effort for this. I have to leave something behind.

As he straightened, the sharp scent of ginger caught his nose. Hui turned, sniffing, then jogged up to the next garden over. Leafy green stalks stretched to knee-height. Clusters of white flowers let off a spicy scent above the rich earth, warm and welcoming.

Thousand-year ginger… mmm, I have to leave a good amount of coins for this. He reached into his bag and pulled out ten coins, then dug down under the smallest of the plants and added its small rhizome to his bag.

Hmm… That’s good enough. I better not push my luck, anyways. If I stumble into the Starbound Peak disciples, and Li Xiang isn’t there… I did look at their idol, after all! So decided, Hui nodded and leaped off the terrace. One step at a time, he hopped down the mountain, pack slung over his shoulder.

In no time, he stood in front of his familiar hut, ingredients in hand. Setting the vegetables aside, he set to gutting, cleaning, and plucking the duck. Halfway through, he scowled and shook his hand. Bloody feathers stuck to his fingers, and duck guts stuck under his nails. Dammit, making food in ancient times is so annoying! Maybe I should’ve asked Sis Mei to cook it for me anyways…

No, no. She’s busy. I can do it myself. Gritting his teeth, he applied himself to the duck once more.

At last, the duck laid naked and cleaned. He strung it up by its feet to drain the blood, then sighed. Holding his hands out in front of him, he clomped over to the well. He dragged the bucket up, touching the rope as little as he could, then spilled it over his disgusting hands. Excess blood spilled over the earth. He sloshed more water over it, washing it away, then turned to his plant ingredients.

I’m no chef, but basically, I put all this in a pot, and the duck should come out okay, right? He bit his lip and looked around. But… what should I use for a pot? I’ve only got the bucket, master’s hut, the pill furnace…

He turned. The pill furnace sat where he’d put it all those months ago, sitting quietly, lidded and sealed, in the middle of the courtyard.

It’s a pot, isn’t it?

Energized, Hui jumped up. He scurried around the forest. Kindling materialized by the furnace, then slightly larger sticks, then small logs, and finally, thick, dry logs found from a fallen tree not far in the forest. Low-slung, the pill furnace had little clearance under it, but Hui stuffed the logs in. As best he could with the space he had, he built a small square-shaped fire, then piled up more around it, surrounding the pill furnace with a larger fire. With everything ready to go, he kneeled by it and drew out his flint. Striking once, twice, he caught a spark in the kindling and carefully fed it, breathing to feed it oxygen, cupping his hand to protect it from gusts of wind. The fire grew, a tiny flame at first, but growing brighter with every moment. He carefully fed in larger and larger sticks until a merry flame flickered under his pill furnace.

Setting the duck in the pill furnace, he cut open the satsumas with his sword and added them. The leeks he knotted, then set atop the duck. Flipping the pill furnace’s lid over, he choked his grip on his sword to use the very base few inches, then diced the ginger on it. The ginger joined the rest in the pot. Looking down at his duck, he gave a satisfied nod. For a twenty-first century lad, I think I did alright!

With that, he closed the lid firmly on his duck.

--

“Thousand-year ginger? Right this way,” the Jade Garden disciple said, bowing to Li Xiang and her party. He led them into his garden, toward the back.

As he grew close, his eyes went wide. He jumped and scurried over to the ginger plants, toward a freshly-dug hole in the ground. “Who—who took—”

Ten coins glittered near the hole. In the midst of his grieving, the disciple caught sight of them. His eyes flashed, and he snatched them up. “Oh, well, that one was only ten years old, anyways, and it wasn't doing well. I’m selling them, after all. I can’t be too mad.”

From below, a female cultivator shrieked. “My Golden Pure Heavenly Leeks! Who took my leeks? Two gold? These are worth thousands of spirit stones, not measly gold! Thief, we have a thief!”

Much nearer, a shout rattled the heavens. “My ten-thousand-year satsuma tree—who took my satsumas? One gold! One gold? These—these fruits are priceless!”

Li Xiang frowned. She walked to the edge of the terrace and stood over it, fists firmly on her hips. “This thief… I’ll find them for you! This blatant injustice will not stand before me!”

Overhead, a cloud between him and the disciples, the older man hovered on his sword. His brows furrowed. “Leeks? Satsuma? Ginger?”

A horrible realization flashed before his eyes. “It couldn’t be…”

--

Hui crouched close over the pot, biting his lip. Hovering his hand over the pot, he sent a thread of qi inside. It’s getting a bit too warm on the left… I’ll let that side burn down, and feed the right! He scurried around the pot and bent low, snatching up a pipe to feed air into the fire. Huffing and puffing, he stoked the fire on the right side. The right side of the pot warmed.

He wiped his forehead and sat back, breathing out. Whew! Cooking is hard work!

A delectable scent rose from the pot. Hui breathed it in, and a smile passed over his face. So good! Ah, cooking something that isn’t instant noodles is a different experience.

In the distance, something howled.

Hui whipped around. He put his hand on his sword, brows furrowed. A few long second passed, and nothing else sounded. Hui settled back down, wary.

Another howl. Much closer this time.

He stood again, eyes narrowed. “This duck is for this Xiao Hui, not a beast!”

At the edge of the woods, so loud his ears ached, another howl. Hui drew his sword. He glared fiercely into the forest. All the spirit beasts I’ve encountered so far have been relatively low level. Zhubi, the spirit bear… there’s nothing to fear! “Come out and fight me, coward! I’m not five years old anymore. I can take you!”

Glowing yellow eyes loomed out of the darkness. Gray fur. A white belly. Yellowed fangs, dripping drool. Fierce black claws bit the earth below. Hui stared up, up, up. The wolf’s belly arced over him. The beast stood easily five meters tall.

This small disciple apologizes! I had no idea I was insulting such a great one! Please forgive me!

Hui locked his trembling knees and tightened his grip on his sword. No! I won’t give up my duck! Even to a monster like this!

The wolf lowered its head and stared at him. Hui glared back, even as he paled. His instincts screamed, hide! Fake your death! Apologize!, but he stood against the wolf, sword high.

Tell him off! Tell him to run away, this is your duck!

Hui’s lips moved. His tongue twisted. He drew himself to his full height and tilted his head back to look down his nose at the wolf. “This…”

The wolf raised a lip and growled. The sound rumbled Hui’s bones and shook the hut and trees around them. A scrap of its pressure leaked out and slammed onto Hui’s shoulders. He nearly crumpled on the spot, his locked knees going soft again.

Hui ducked into a deep bow. “This—this small disciple earnestly apologizes to elder! Please forgive me! Er, er… wou—would you…” he swallowed, grimacing. It’s my duck! I worked so hard on it!

No, no, I have to survive! I can’t live a long, happy life if I pick fights I can’t win! He swallowed and shook his head. “Would you… l, l, like to… have some duck?”

The wolf stopped growling. Its pressure vanished. It laid down at the edge of the clearing and rested its head on its paws. Its huge tail thumped the trees behind it, sending them shuddering under its might.

Hui scowled internally. That’s a yes. That’s a yes, dammit!

To the wolf, he smiled and nodded. “Then, please wait just a moment while I finish cooking…”

The massive wolf let out a quiet rumble deep in its throat, a patient acquiescence.

Hui crouched by the pot once more. He sighed out, then shook his head. No, no. It’s fine. I can still have some duck! I didn’t offer it the whole duck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the wolf. Is that the same thing that’s been howling at me since I got here? It’s even more frightening than I imagined it would be! Did Master really leave me alone on this peak with this monster when I was five?

No, no, wait. Master said… he likes to keep pets. Back when I first got Zhubi, he said that. Then, is this one of Master’s pets?

“Excuse me, elder disciple, but are you—”

The wolf shifted yellow eyes to him. Its tail stopped wagging.

Hui’s stomach turned cold. He shivered. “Er, never mind! Aha.” Ask that monster if it’s a pet? Me? This little disciple doesn’t want to die today!

Tail wagging once more, the wolf settled down and closed its eyes. Its ears stayed perked, trained on Hui’s pill furnace and makeshift pot. Occasionally, its nose twitched.

The scent of cooking duck filled the clearing. Hui fed the fire, checked on the duck, adjusted the fire again. Finally, he lifted the lid. “It’s done!”

A rush of delectable umami blasted by Hui’s face. Sweet notes from the satsuma, tangy ginger, and the sharp scent of leek, mixed with the fatty, salty duck into a beautiful aroma. Hui closed his eyes and breathed it in. For something I winged, it smells pretty good!

The giant wolf stood and wagged its tail.

Freeloader! Don’t look so happy about it! Still, his heart melted a little at seeing its drooping tongue and happy expression. “Alright, alright. Shall we go half and half?”

The wolf closed its mouth and growled, lifting its lips at him.

Hui leaned back, but stood firmly between the wolf and his duck. “I caught it, I gathered the ingredients, I cooked it, you can’t demand more than half!”

A huff of hot air rushed from the wolf’s mouth. It stopped growling and settled back down, giving Hui a pitiful look instead.

“I only caught one duck! Look, next time, you bring me the ducks, and I’ll cook as many as… at least two!” Hui said. That damn duck was too much effort to pluck and clean. I’m not going to promise to cook as many ducks as a wolf this big can catch!

The wolf perked up and tipped its head, interested.

Hui reached his sword into the pill furnace and hooked out the duck by its breastbone. He set it on top of the furnace’s lid. The wolf crowded close to him. Its massive shoulder bumped into Hui’s.

“Hey, hey. Patience, elder brother.” Hui raised his sword high and cut down on the duck. The duck split neatly in half. Before Hui could choose his, the wolf darted in, stole one of the halves, and retreated with it.

Hui glared at its rear, then picked up his half. Half a duck is better than no duck.

Under his glare, the wolf shrunk down to the size of a normal wolf. It trapped the duck under one paw and bit at it, happily ripping off mouthfuls of meat. Tail wagging, it snapped them down.

Well, someone’s enjoying it. Hui took a bite of the duck himself.

Flavor burst over his tongue. Meat melted in his mouth, soft and tender. The satsuma, leeks, and ginger played complimentary notes to the succulent, sweet-salty duck meat. Hui tore off another bite and chewed slowly, eyes shut. This is bliss! Cooking with qi is fantastic, everyone should try it!

On his third bite, he looked at the duck thoughtfully. Next time, I should pat some oil on the duck and blast the pill furnace with heat at the end to get a crispy skin. Maybe I can try adding a few more ingredients, as well. Cook a glaze with the satsumas, some salt and a pinch of sugar first instead of throwing them all in together, or find some garlic to complement the leek.

A shadow passed over him. Hui squinted up. I don’t recall seeing any clouds in the sky.

Mounted on a sword, an older man in his fifties stood over Hui. Tall, with an athletic build, his white hair and beard swayed in the wind. Dressed in the sect’s robes, he stood with his arms tucked in his sleeves and stared down at Hui with an imperious glare.

He’s riding on his sword, so he’s at least fourth stage. And he’s on the peak despite not being one of Weiheng Wu’s disciples, so he’s at least an inheriting disciple. As old as he is, he’s more likely a peak lord, but I know he’s not a peak lord, so in all likelihood, he’s one of the Masters or Grandmasters of the sect, someone above the peak lords.

Hui jumped up. Still holding the duck, he cupped his hands and bowed. “Disciple greets elder. What can this small disciple do for you?”

The man’s jaw trembled at the sight of the duck. His eyes narrowed. “You… did you cook that duck?”

“Ah? Yes. Er, sorry, senior, but I already shared half of it with someone else…” Hui glanced at the wolf.

The wolf stood, licking its chops, a pleased expression on its face.

“You… to a—a dog?” the man stammered.

Hui licked his lips. Reluctantly, he looked at his half-eaten piece of the duck. “If senior wants, you… you could… have a quarter?”

A vein throbbed on the man’s forehead. “You want me to eat my beloved pet?”

“Ah?” Hui asked, startled. Pet? Who keeps ducks as a pet? Ducks are for eating.

A second later, he dropped into a deeper bow. “Many apologies, senior! This small disciple didn’t know! Please forgive me!”

The man glared at him, stony-faced.

Hui licked his lips. I’m fucked. I’m so fucked.

If I’m fucked anyways… He surreptitiously twisted the duck toward his face and snuck another bite.

“You dare eat him in front of me?” the man thundered. He raised his hand.

“Many apologies, senior, but the duck is already dead and cooked! It would be disrespectful not to eat it!” Hui shouted. As quickly as he could, he gulped down the duck. It doesn’t matter what I do at this point, this senior is going to destroy me. If I must die today, I’ll die happy, with a full stomach!

The senior threw out his hand. A bolt of silvery light plunged at Hui.

Swallowing the last of the meat, Hui threw himself backward. The silvery light grazed his shoulder and sent an electric shock through his body. Hui screamed. The duck’s bones flew away. He collapsed to the floor, shuddering.

Hurts, hurts, it hurts! Electricity coursed around his body, searing into his joints, dancing over his nerves. Hui shook one last time, then gathered himself and clamped down on his qi. From the flint hidden in his robes, he drew out the death qi and wrapped it around his, hiding its presence. His breathing slowed to a stop, and his body grew still.

The old man descended. His feet hit the ground. He caught his sword and sheathed it, drawing close to Hui. Brows furrowing, he muttered to himself, “I didn’t mean to kill him. Is this old man growing rusty?”

Behind him, the wolf pounced on the duck bones. It clutched them between its paws and chomped away. Fragile bones cracked in its maw.

“You—Leave that! That’s all I have left of Fatty!” the old man shouted, whipping toward the wolf.

Now’s my chance! The second the old man turned away, Hui released his death-faking technique, storing the death qi back in the flint. Qi rushed into him, more, even, than he was used to. Is this from accomplishing the next stage—no, now isn’t the time! Hui poured all the qi into his legs and operated the Pond-Reflecting-Moon Waltz as fast as he could. His legs blurred. He hurtled down the mountain, heedless of any brambles or branches in his way. They whipped past him, scoring red marks in his skin.

Atop the mountain, the old man harrumphed, not bothering to turn around. “Just you wait, ‘small disciple.’ I’ll show you just how tall the mountain stands.”