The Awakening Square of the Falling Cloud Sect overflowed with people.
Lanterns swayed above the wide plaza, banners rippled with the sect's crest, and drums beat faintly to mark each awakening.
Parents gripped prayer beads, whispering frantic hopes. Disciples craned their necks to see, while elders sat in rows of carved stone seats, eyes sharp with judgment.
At the very center of it all loomed the Awakening Stone — a slab of ancient jade etched with golden runes that pulsed with heaven's will. Each year, on this day, the sect's youths would step forward and press their hands upon its surface.
The stone would flare, and if fortune smiled, a system hidden deep within their soul would awaken.
A system was more than power. It was destiny.
A Sword Dao System could make its wielder a peerless blade master.
A Flame Dao System could summon firestorms to incinerate armies.
A Lightning Dao System could strike bottlenecks like thunder cracking mountains.
Even a simple Body Refinement System could mean decades of survival and respect.
Without a system, you were nothing but dust.
---
I stood at the very back of the line, my patched robe clinging to my body, damp from morning rain.
Nobody looked at me. Nobody expected anything from me.
My name was Ren.
In the sect, I had no surname, no clan, no master. I was the boy who scrubbed pots in the kitchens, the boy who boiled plain rice for outer disciples and carried water until his shoulders bled.
The boy born with crippled meridians.
From birth, my qi had been blocked. My dantian was as silent as a tomb. Cultivation was impossible.
So while other children sparred in courtyards with wooden swords, I carried buckets of water until my arms burned. When they sat cross-legged in meditation, I bent over smoky stoves, sweating as I chopped vegetables.
When they laughed at me as trash, I lowered my head, salted the rice, and smiled as if I hadn't heard.
Cooking had been survival.
But somewhere along the way, it became more.
When I washed rice until the water ran clear, I learned patience.
When I stirred soup all night, I learned focus.
When I salted broth and saw exhausted laborers smile, I learned that food could warm not only the body, but also the heart.
I didn't know it then, but I had already brushed against the edge of a Dao.
---
"Ren?"
A sneer dragged me back to the present.
The boy ahead of me in line — Yun Kai, son of a minor merchant elder — looked over his shoulder and smirked. "What's the kitchen rat doing here? Did Heaven run out of trash bins?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Another youth jeered, "Maybe he'll awaken the Dao of Dishwashing! He can cultivate dirty bowls!"
A girl covered her mouth and giggled. "Don't be cruel. Heaven might pity him… and grant him the Leftover System."
Even parents chuckled, whispering behind their hands.
Heat rose in my chest, but I said nothing.
The officiating Elder frowned at me as if my very presence stained the square. "Ren, kitchen drudge," he said coldly. "Step forward, if you must. But do not waste our time."
My fists trembled.
All my life, I had been nothing but a servant. But today, I would know if even Heaven itself saw me that way.
---
The line moved.
One by one, candidates pressed their hands against the altar stone.
A girl in white robes touched its surface. Lightning split the clouds, thunder roared, and a radiant bow of crackling energy formed in her hands.
"Lightning Bow System!" cried an elder.
The crowd roared with awe.
Next, a burly boy stepped forward. He slammed his palm onto the stone. Scarlet fire burst out, condensing into a blazing saber.
"Flame Saber System!"
His clan erupted in celebration, throwing spirit stones into the air as gifts.
Even the weakest candidates awakened combat Daos.
Sword. Flame. Fist. Bow.
All worthy paths.
And then… my turn came.
---
Snickers rippled before I even reached the stone.
"Look! The stove-boy's up!"
"Hurry, Ren, scrub the altar clean while you're there!"
"Trash daring to touch the Awakening Stone? Heaven will spit him out!"
Heat crawled up my neck. I clenched my fists and pressed my palm against the stone.
For a moment—silence.
Then the runes blazed. Light gathered. Smoke hissed.
And before me appeared… a stove.
A cracked, iron stove. Its body blackened by fire, its surface etched with Dao runes that glowed faintly.
The square fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then erupted.
"A stove?!"
"Heaven gave him a stove!"
"Dao of Leftovers! Trash awakening for a trash life!"
Even the officiating Elder sneered. "Cooking belongs to mortals. It cannot touch the Dao. Step aside."
Shame seared my chest. My knees almost buckled.
But then—
A chime rang in my mind.
---
> [Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have awakened the Cooking Dao System]
✦ Current Rank: 1★ Mortal Chef
✦ Core Resource: Bowl Points
✦ Rule: Cooking is cultivation. Feed others to gain Bowl Points.
✦ Starter Tool: Dao Stove (Bound)
✦ Starter Skill: Spirit Flame — control fire at will
✦ Quest: Cook a dish that awakens qi in another. Reward: +100 Bowl Points
✦ Next Goal: Serve 100 Bowls → Advance to 2★ Spirit Chef
---
My breath caught.
A system. A real system.
Cooking… as cultivation?
---
They shoved me aside, still laughing. Another youth placed his hand on the stone, awakened a Sword Dao, and was showered with praise.
But I didn't hear.
The stove before me had already lit itself, runes flaring. Spirit Flame roared out—steady, obedient to my will.
My hands moved without hesitation.
Rice appeared in my palm, glowing faintly. I rinsed it once, twice, thrice, until the water ran clear. Dropped it into the pot.
The flame shifted precisely—never too hot, never too weak.
Steam lifted, curling into the air. Fragrant. Sweet. Alive.
The laughter faltered. Noses twitched.
"What… what is that smell?"
"Why does it feel like my qi is stirring?"
I lifted the lid. Steam burst forth, curling into shapes of dragons and phoenixes. The rice gleamed like pearls carved from jade.
I scooped a bowl and shoved it into the hands of Yun Kai, the boy who mocked me first.
"Eat," I said coldly.
He sneered. "Food can't—"
But the fragrance wrapped around him. He shoveled in a mouthful.
And froze.
His eyes widened. His dantian roared.
A bottleneck shattered with a crack like thunder.
He broke through on the spot.
---
Gasps ripped through the square.
"He advanced!"
"From a bowl of rice?!"
"No mortal food could do this!"
The Elder staggered back, face pale. "This… this is the Dao of Nourishment…"
The chime rang again.
> [Ding! Dish Cooked: Spirit Rice (1★)]
✦ Effect: Restores stamina, smooths qi flow
✦ Bowl Points +10
---
Silence swallowed the square.
Even the elders stared, throats bobbing as they swallowed saliva. Disciples who mocked me turned pale. Parents leaned forward, unable to tear their eyes away. Children tugged at sleeves, whining hungrily.
I straightened. Spirit Flame blazed behind me. The Dao Stove rumbled like a beast.
"You called me trash," I said coldly. My voice cut across the plaza like a blade.
"Remember this taste. From now on, every bowl I serve will slap your faces harder than the last."
The stove roared. Flames leapt into the sky, shadows of cauldrons and heavenly kitchens stretching upward.
The system chimed once more:
> [Next Goal: Serve 100 Bowls → Advance to 2★ Spirit Chef]
I clenched my fist.
So what if Heaven had given me a stove?
This was my chance.
From today, I would climb the heavens with broth, rice, and flame.
This was my Dao.
The Cooking Dao.
---