Du Heng was ravenous. He longed for his mother’s roast chicken. He’d already promised, intending to rush home early that morning, but now that this had happened, what was he supposed to do? He fumbled in his storage bag and pulled out a bottle of fasting pills.

According to the original owner’s memories, cultivators could take these fasting pills in place of their daily meals before they reached foundation building. A single pill about the size of a soybean could keep a cultivator from starving for three days. Du Heng uncorked the bottle, his anticipation growing. What would the fasting pills taste like? Would they be sweet like candy beans?

He was disappointed. The bottle was empty with not a single pill left. Du Heng tossed the empty bottle into his storage bag, glanced toward the back of the cave, and then felt his stomach. It felt awkward to ask for food at his age. Besides, he was half a cook!

Du Heng looked toward the cave entrance. A faint light emanated from the entrance. He walked around the corpse of the Brahma Chicken and headed for the cave entrance, hoping to find something to eat outside. But a glance shocked him. He was in the clouds. It was a vast sea of ​​white clouds below the cave entrance. He could only see a few isolated peaks rising above the distant sea of ​​clouds. Who knew what lay beneath them?

Du Heng felt he couldn’t leave the cave, at least not with his current strength.

Du Heng once again returned to the stone, this time carefully rummaging through his storage bag. Du Heng’s original form was an outer sect servant, occasionally going out to procure for the sect. Since the sect was often located deep in the mountains, he inevitably had to sleep outdoors. He was lucky to find pots and pans, a bag of spiritual rice, and peanuts in a bamboo winnowing basket.

For food to be delicious, seasoning was essential. Du Heng found some. His original form had only prepared salt, some soy sauce, and a small bottle of wine. Compared to modern seasonings, Du Heng’s condiments were far too few. But that wasn’t a big deal, at least not enough to stump Du Heng.

The rice and seasonings were ready, but where were the vegetables? Du Heng’s gaze fell upon the tragically dead Brahma Chicken on the ground. He rubbed his hands together and walked towards the Brahma Chicken. A chicken this big should taste good, right? He confirmed with his eyes that it was edible.

Talismans in the world of cultivation are valuable. There are those that start fires, draw water, dissolve earth, create wood, and transform into sharp blades. Du Heng successfully constructed a simple stove.

The stove he built had two pots, the kind most common in the countryside: one for cooking rice, the other for stir-frying vegetables. Du Heng originally only had one pot, so he used the talisman to conjure another iron pot, and finally heated a large pot of water.

Defiling the two-meter-tall Brahma Chicken was a challenge. Du Heng apologized to the chicken and then cut it into pieces with his knife. Although the feathering process was a bit messy, and Du Heng’s pots and pans were awkward to use, he still managed to get a large pot of bright white, cleanly prepared chicken and offal.

Du Heng’s father owned a private restaurant, and Du Heng had been influenced by his father since childhood, learning a great deal from him. He said that food is a gift from God, and anything that can be used should not be wasted. Du Heng handled the Brahma chicken with great care, carefully storing away any that could be used.

The rice was already cooking on the earthen stove, while Du Heng took a look at the ingredients. As a Jiangnan native, he couldn’t handle spicy food, but at this moment, he inexplicably craved something spicy. Unfortunately, a good cook can’t cook without rice; he didn’t even have any chili peppers, so he’d just have to make do with whatever he had.

He prepared a simple Kung Pao Chicken, a pitifully shabby dish without chili peppers, sugar, rice vinegar, or even scallions or ginger. It was so simple that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

 The yellow chicken fat sizzled as it entered the hot wok, sending wisps of green smoke billowing out. The black bottom of the pot slowly coated in oil. While the oil was simmering, Du Heng began preparing the ingredients.

He cut off two fist-sized chicken breasts, then diced them evenly. He was actually an avid fan of chicken skin. Looking at the large flakes of skin, Du Heng gulped. From such a large chicken, the skin would surely be a feast for the eyes if grilled on skewers.

As he diced the chicken, Du Heng also stirred the chicken fat in the pot. The fat had shrunk, and liquid appeared around the edges.

Du Heng placed his chopsticks on the bowl in admiration. He liked the chopsticks Fu Zhuan created; they were more comfortable than the ones at home.

After dicing the chicken, Du Heng sprinkled some salt and wine on the chicken and tossed them together. He should have added some starch to make the chicken even more tender, but with limited resources, he didn’t bother with that. After the diced chicken became somewhat sticky, Du Heng placed the bowl next to the stove and looked at the fire.

The wood in the stove was created by talismans. Du Heng pulled out some of the larger logs to keep the flames at the bottom of the pot smaller and prevent the chicken fat from burning.

Soon, Du Heng had used the fat scraped from the Brahma Chicken to make a large bowl of golden, scalding chicken fat. He collected the excess liquid oil in a jar and added a spoonful of salt.

If this were lard, adding salt and sugar would solidify the fat to make it whiter and less likely to spoil. After adding the salt, Du Heng remembered that this was chicken fat, and it seemed unnecessary. Chicken fat solidifies yellow, so what did it matter if it was white?

He poured peanuts into the pot and gently stirred them with a spatula. The heat caused the skin of the peanuts to crack, making a subtle crackling sound. When the crackling became more intense, Du Heng removed the peanuts. Peanuts should be put into the pot and the oil cold to prevent them from burning. Again, the conditions were not favorable, so Du Heng could only rely on experience. The sizzling peanuts sat rosy red on the plate, exuding a nutty aroma.

The peanuts were still soft at this point, but once they cooled, they would become fragrant and crispy.

From the moment Du Heng began to simmer the chicken oil, a strong, overpowering aroma of fat filled the cave. This aroma dispelled the chill of the cave, permeating every corner with a powerful and overbearing intensity, overpowering the aroma of the medical practitioners refining their elixirs and awakening the sweet dreams of those who slept soundly.

Yun Zhonghe had unknowingly appeared behind Du Heng, but Du Heng, completely absorbed in his pot, didn’t notice his presence.

Du Heng stirred the pot and turned up the heat. The rice was already cooking, so he pulled the heat from the bottom of the rice cooker to the bottom of the cooking pot. The flames grew, and smoke rose from the oil. Quickly, Du Heng dumped the diced chicken into the pot.

 There was no sauce, no onions, ginger, garlic, or chili peppers. He’d made the most unauthentic Kung Pao Chicken in the world! But he was still eagerly anticipating it. When the chicken in the pot turned pale, he poured a little soy sauce into it. This was the last bit of tenderness he could offer himself—though without chili peppers, the chicken wouldn’t have a vibrant red, the soy sauce would at least add some color!

However, he failed miserably. The moment the soy sauce was added to the pot, the chicken turned black. Du Heng nearly cried as he looked at the pot. Still, he persevered, stirring the chicken until it was cooked through. When the chicken was done, Du Heng added peanuts, stir-fried them for a few seconds, and removed them from the pot.

Looking at the dark plate of Kung Pao Chicken, Du Heng consoled himself: it was good to have something to eat at this time, and it smelled quite good too. A closer look revealed that the color wasn’t so bad after all. His previous impression of dark colour was simply due to the black pot and the dim lighting. Now, the Kung Pao Chicken on the plate had a rich, red sauce. 

A closer look revealed the diced chicken to be a reddish-brown with shiny peanuts nestled amidst it. While lacking the garnish of scallions and ginger, and the aroma of chili peppers, it still had the comforting feeling of a home-cooked meal. It smelled quite good too, like braised chicken.

He opened the rice pot and poured himself a bowl of rice. Just as he was about to dig in, he heard Yun Zhonghe’s voice: “What…are you doing?”

Du Heng turned his head to see Yun Zhonghe standing behind him with a complicated expression. Du Heng felt a little weak. He smiled awkwardly, “Eating, have you eaten yet? Let’s eat together?” Yun Zhonghe frowned. “Are you out of Qigong Pills?” Du Heng nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Yun Zhonghe looked at the naked, dismembered Brahma Chicken in the wooden basin beside him. “Thank you for your help.” Du Heng, puzzled, echoed Yun Zhonghe’s words. “It’s not difficult, it’s not difficult.” Yun Zhonghe sighed, “You don’t have to anger the Demon Lord so much. Even though he’s the Demon Lord, he wouldn’t trouble someone of your level. He would have let you die easily…”

Du Heng asked, puzzled. “It would have been a quick death? What about now?” Yun Zhonghe pointed at the naked, dead chicken in the basin. “I can’t guarantee that now. You might end up like that chicken.”

Du Heng’s face nearly broke. “Brother, how can you say such terrible things so calmly?” But it made sense. The Brahma Chicken was the Demon Lord Yan Buhui’s spiritual pet. If Du Heng saw his pet on someone else’s table, he’d go mad too!

Du Heng sweatdropped. “So… what should I do?” Yun Zhonghe said sympathetically, “Eat more. A full stomach will help you get going.”

Du Heng: !!!

At that moment, a suffocating sensation emanated from the cave entrance. Du Heng, holding his bowl, stared at the entrance in horror. A strikingly imposing man in a red robe flashed through the cave. His face was filled with rage, and every fiber of his being read: “I am the Demon Lord!”

Du Heng’s throat choked with blood. Oh my god, what sin had he committed! A man eating a pet had been caught in the act by its owner. Du Heng’s mind went blank in a state of panic, and his hand automatically picked up a piece of chicken and peanuts and brought them to his mouth.

He took a bite. The chicken was tender and springy with a hint of sweetness that made up for the lack of sugar. The salty taste of soy sauce mixed with the crunchy peanuts made Du Heng feel like he could finish three bowls of rice. It was so delicious that he wanted to cry, but Du Heng’s eyes were filled with tears: “You came too fast, you didn’t even give me time to eat a full meal!”