The sun hung blood-red over the Endless Wilderness, casting long, jagged shadows across the scorched earth. This was a place where Class-5 Spirit Beasts roamed, beasts capable of tearing a Golden Core cultivator into confetti. It was a zone of death, silence, and terror.
And in the middle of it, someone was frying onions.
Shen Yu sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead with a white towel. "System, are you sure this is a good spot? The foot traffic here is terrible. I haven't seen a single person in three hours."
[Host, please remain patient. The Feng Shui here is excellent for gathering ingredients. Current Location: The Grave of the Thousand Swords.]
"It's a grave," Shen Yu deadpanned, tossing chopped scallions into his black iron wok. "Who comes to eat lunch at a grave?"
Shen Yu, formerly a sous-chef at a high-end Chengdu hotel, had been here for three days. He had died—embarrassingly—by slipping on a wet floor while carrying a pot of master stock. He woke up with a wooden pushcart, a magical self-refilling water tank, and a wok that refused to rust.
He didn't know that the "black iron wok" was actually forged from the scales of a Fallen Black Dragon. He just liked that it was non-stick.
Sizzle.
The sound of hot oil meeting scallions cut through the eerie silence of the wilderness.
"Whatever," Shen Yu muttered. "I'm hungry anyway."
He reached into the small wooden cabinet of his cart. To him, it looked like a normal pantry. He pulled out a package of dried noodles and a bottle of soy sauce labeled 'Pearl River Bridge'.
To any cultivator looking on with Spirit Vision, Shen Yu had just reached into a spatial tear in the void and pulled out condensed strands of Law and a bottle of Liquid Void Essence.
Shen Yu boiled the noodles. He mixed the soy sauce, a pinch of sugar, and the fried scallion oil in a blue-and-white porcelain bowl. He tossed the cooked noodles in the dark, glossy sauce until they were coated in a rich, savory sheen.
The smell wafted out.
It wasn't just the smell of food. In the Azure Sky Realm, food was fuel, usually tasteless pills or boiled, gamey beast meat. This smell was culture. It was the savory depth of soy, the sharp sweetness of caramelized onions, and the earthy comfort of wheat.
It drifted across the wasteland, entering a nearby cave where Li Changfeng, Sect Leader of the Cloud Soaring Sect, was currently dying.
Li Changfeng was in bad shape. He had been hunted by three Demon Kings for two days. His meridians were shattered, his true qi was empty, and he had been poisoned by the Green Mamba King. He had dragged himself into this cave to die with dignity.
Sniff.
Li Changfeng's eyes flew open.
What is that scent?
It smelled like... home? No, it smelled like the Grand Dao itself. It smelled like clarity. The poison in his blood seemed to slow down just from inhaling it.
Is this a hallucination before death? Or has an Immortal descended?
Gritting his teeth, Li Changfeng crawled. He was a proud man, a Golden Core expert, but the hunger that gripped him was primal. He dragged his bloodied body out of the cave, inch by inch, until he saw it.
A small wooden cart sitting under a dead tree. A young man with short hair and strange, comfortable-looking clothes (a T-shirt and jeans) was leaning against the cart, tossing noodles in a wok that radiated a terrifying, dark aura.
Li Changfeng trembled. That wok... the pressure coming from it... is that a Heaven-Grade artifact? And he's using it to... cook noodles?
Shen Yu looked up and saw a man crawling toward him. The man looked like an extra from a wuxia movie who had gone through a meat grinder. Robes torn, blood everywhere, face pale green.
"Whoa, buddy," Shen Yu said, putting down his chopsticks. "Rough night?"
Li Changfeng tried to speak, but only a croak came out. He stared at the bowl in Shen Yu's hand.
Shen Yu followed his gaze. "Hungry?"
Li Changfeng nodded desperately.
"I am running a business here," Shen Yu said, his chef instincts kicking in. "But you look like you left your wallet in your other pants. First one's on the house, I guess. Call it a grand opening special."
Shen Yu walked over and placed the bowl on the ground.
"Scallion Oil Noodles. careful, it's hot."
Li Changfeng looked at the noodles. They glistened with a golden light (actually just oil reflecting the sun, but to Li Changfeng, it was Divine Light). He reached out with trembling hands, grabbed the chopsticks, and shoveled a mouthful in.
BOOM.
It wasn't a sound. It was the sensation of his soul exploding.
The moment the noodles touched his tongue, a burst of flavor assaulted him—salty, sweet, umami. But more than that, a warm current rushed down his throat and exploded into his dantian.
The chaotic qi in his body didn't just calm down; it bowed in submission. The Green Mamba poison didn't just fade; it was incinerated by the purity of the energy in the scallions.
This isn't food, Li Changfeng thought, tears streaming down his face as he chewed. This is an Elixir of Life disguised as mortal sustenance! These scallions... they contain the essence of a thousand-year-old spirit herb! This soy sauce... is it brewed from the Fountain of Youth?
Shen Yu watched the man crying while eating noodles. Man, my cooking is good, but is it that emotional? Maybe he's just really homesick.
"Is it okay?" Shen Yu asked. "I usually add a fried egg, but I'm out of eggs."
Li Changfeng froze. He... he usually adds an egg? A Phoenix egg, surely? And he's apologizing?
Li Changfeng finished the bowl in record time, even licking the sauce. He felt his shattered meridians knitting themselves back together. His cultivation, stuck at the peak of Golden Core for fifty years, suddenly cracked.
Crack.
The barrier broke. Spiritual energy from the surrounding wasteland rushed toward him, forming a vortex.
Shen Yu frowned, looking at the wind picking up dust. "Great, now it's getting windy. Hey, are you done?"
Li Changfeng stood up. His wounds were closing. His skin was glowing. He had just broken through to the Nascent Soul realm—a feat that usually required decades of seclusion and rare pills—just by eating a bowl of charity noodles.
He looked at Shen Yu. The young man was casually washing the wok with water that sparkled like diamonds (tap water from the System).
He is an expert, Li Changfeng realized. A hidden master who has returned to simplicity. He dwells in this death zone, treating terrifying artifacts as kitchenware, turning the act of eating into a Dao.
Li Changfeng fell to his knees, slamming his forehead into the dirt.
"Senior! This junior, Li Changfeng, thanks you for the grace of reconstruction! My life is yours!"
Shen Yu blinked, holding a soapy sponge. "Uh. It was just noodles, man. Get up. You're getting dirt on your forehead."
Just noodles? Li Changfeng shivered. To him, a miracle is merely 'just noodles'. His state of mind is terrifyingly high.
"Senior," Li Changfeng said, his voice trembling with reverence. "I have no spirit stones on me to repay this debt. But I have this."
He pulled a jade token from his belt. It was the Command Token of the Cloud Soaring Sect, capable of mobilizing ten thousand cultivators.
Shen Yu looked at the green rock. Is this jade? Might be worth a few bucks.
"Sure, that'll cover it," Shen Yu said, tossing the token into his pocket (where it landed next to a lighter and a pack of tissues). "You should go home and wash up. You look terrible."
"Yes, Senior! I will not disturb your cultivation!"
Li Changfeng backed away, bowing continuously, before turning and flying into the sky on a streak of sword light.
Shen Yu watched him fly away. "Wires," he muttered. "Definitely a movie set. Or maybe he's got a jetpack under those robes. Weird place."
[Ding! First Customer Served.][Rating: Satisfied (He worshipped you).][Reward: 10 System Points. New Recipe Unlocked: Spicy Diced Chicken.][Bonus Reward: A Companion.]
"Companion?" Shen Yu asked.
From the bushes nearby, a rustling sound emerged.
A creature stepped out. It was pitch black, with fur that seemed to absorb the light around it. It had four legs, a tail, and huge, round eyes. It looked like a very fat, very ugly black chow chow puppy.
It was Meatball. Or, as the legends knew it, the Taotie.
It stared at the leftover sauce in Li Changfeng's bowl. Then it looked at Shen Yu.
"Woof," it said. The sound carried the resonance of a collapsing star, but to Shen Yu, it sounded like a bark.
"A dog?" Shen Yu squatted down. "Hey there, buddy. You hungry too?"
The Taotie paused. It had just woken up from a ten-thousand-year slumber, hungry enough to eat the moon. It sensed the aura of the man before it. It smelled... nothing.
No, not nothing. It smelled the System. It smelled the Food Dao.
And then Shen Yu pulled out a piece of Braised Pork from his inventory (leftover from his practice).
"Here," Shen Yu tossed it.
The Taotie caught it. The flavor—a mix of star anise, rock sugar, and premium pork belly—hit its tongue.
The Taotie, the beast that had once warred against the Gods, sat down and wagged its tail.
"I'll call you Meatball," Shen Yu decided.
The Taotie accepted this humiliation. For the pork, it would accept anything.
"Alright, Meatball. Help me push the cart. If we find a road, maybe we can find some paying customers who don't pay with green rocks."
Shen Yu grabbed the handles of his cart. The Taotie bit the front axle. Together, one chef and one Calamity Beast walked into the sunset of the Wildlands, unaware that behind them, Li Changfeng was already spreading the legend of the "Noodle God of the Wasteland."
The misunderstanding had begun.