The qi. A warm sensation swirled inside his navel as Lin Fan focused on the feeling. He was finally a cultivator.

  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he placed his palms on the wooden counter, his chest heaving. The rough grain of the wood pressed against his callused hands. It felt surreal. Like never before.

  Lin Fan closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation. The qi moved like a gentle stream through his meridians, a subtle warmth that branched outward from his core. His awareness of the stall heightened. The cricket chirps seemed sharper, the lingering petrichor from the ceased rain more distinct, even the colors of his ingredients more vivid when he opened his eyes again.

  The sweet, savory scent of broth spread around the stall, rich with hints of ginger and herbs. Lin Fan knew patrons would flock to him if they caught even a whiff of this aroma.

  The scent stirred a deep hunger inside him. Steam rose from the pot, carrying promises of nourishment. He couldn’t go back to the house yet. He had enough material for five more tries. He would recreate this broth and take it back home.

  Lin Fan tightened his grip on the ladle, determination etched on his face. The aroma of ginger and herbs filled the air, urging him onward.

  After filling a large bowl for himself, he began savoring the goodness of the broth.

  It tasted heavenly. The broth slid down his throat, warming him from the inside. Its heat rushed through his body like liquid gold, and he could feel something changing in his muscles and bones. A pleasant tingling melted away the day's fatigue instantly.

  It was the same sensation he felt when his father fed him herb medicine for the first time.

  For some reason, he could recall that distinct memory clearly now. His father's confident hands preparing the bitter concoction, the same focused expression Lin Fan now wore himself.

  "Lin Fan, you've already started? I brought the things you asked for." Bai Mei rushed across the street, water dripping from the brim of his long hat despite the rain having stopped.

  Lin Fan smiled and poured a large bowl for his friend. "Taste this." His father always said sharing food was the biggest virtue for a cook.

  "It smells so good." Bai Mei leaned forward, inhaling deeply. He took a careful sip and his eyes widened. "Heavens above! This is nothing like your usual broth. It's like... like drinking pure sunlight after a cold winter. How did you make this?"

  Lin Fan smiled, watching his friend's delight with satisfaction. The golden motes in the broth caught the lantern light, swirling like tiny stars. "My father's recipe," he said simply, not ready to explain what he didn't fully understand himself.

  "Well, your father was a genius then." Bai Mei drained the bowl and held it out for more. "I feel like I could work all night and still have energy to spare."

  Lin Fan ladled another serving, noticing how his hands moved with unusual precision. The tremors from exhaustion that normally plagued him after a long day had vanished. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the new steadiness.

  "I want to try making it again," he said, already gathering ingredients. "To make sure it wasn't just a fluke."

  Bai Mei nodded, settling on his usual stool. "I'll help. I'll help you daily if you prepare this every day."

  Lin Fan shook his head with a small smile. "Unfortunately, it needs a special herb. But we can try some other recipes. Less costly ones."

  The second attempt began well. Lin Fan carefully cracked the pork bones as the journal specified, the sharp crack echoing in the quiet stall. He precisely cut the ginger at the required angles, the knife slicing smoothly through the root. He measured the scallions just so, the fresh, sharp scent filling the air. His breathing naturally fell into rhythm with the bubbling broth, and he felt that warm energy in his core responding.

  But when he tried to channel it into the food, something went wrong.

  The liquid darkened, an ominous shift that sent a shiver down his spine. A bitter scent wafted out, making his stomach recoil. When he dipped a tasting spoon, the acrid taste confirmed the recipe had failed.

  "What happened?" Bai Mei asked, wrinkling his nose.

  "The Bitter Disappointment," Lin Fan muttered, examining the ruined broth. "I followed the steps but missed something important. The qi flow was wrong. Too mechanical, without proper intent."

  He dumped the failure and started again. The discarded broth splashed into the waste bucket, its bitter scent lingering in the air. Lin Fan wiped his brow, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the stove.

  This time, he focused more intensely on the energy flow described in his father's notes. He could almost hear his father's voice guiding him. Repeating the steps mechanically wasn't enough; the qi needed to move naturally.

  Lin Fan closed his eyes, feeling the warm energy swirl within him. He visualized it moving through his meridians, guiding it with intent and purpose. His hands moved with renewed confidence, each action precise and filled with meaning.

  His third attempt went even worse.

  As he focused on adding more qi into the broth, the liquid started bubbling rapidly. Golden energy built up too fast, swirling in restless patterns like a tiny whirlpool.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Lin Fan, that doesn't look—"

  The pot erupted with a startling pop, spraying both of them with scalding liquid. Bai Mei yelped and jumped back, while Lin Fan instinctively raised his arms to shield his face.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, grabbing a cloth to help his clean up.

  "I'm fine." He dabbed at the spots on his tunic. "But what in heaven's name was that?"

  Lin Fan stared at the mess, processing what had gone wrong. "The Exploding Surprise," he said ruefully. "Too much energy, too little control. Like filling a water skin until it bursts."

  "Can you do it on collector Zhao's face?" Bai Mei smirked.

  Lin Fan rolled his eyes. This little bastard couldn't think of something better?

  Strangely, where the hot broth had splashed his skin, the redness faded almost immediately. He rubbed his forearm, marveling at how quickly the minor burn had disappeared.

  They cleaned up in silence, and Lin Fan prepared for his fourth attempt with greater caution. He measured each ingredient meticulously, stirred with precise movements, and tried to maintain a steady, gentle flow of qi from his core to his hands.

  This time, the broth developed beautifully, taking on a promising amber color.

  The aroma seemed right too, rich and inviting.

  "I think you've got it," Bai Mei said, leaning forward eagerly.

  But as Lin Fan lifted the lid for a final check, a strange buzzing sound filled the air. Insects began appearing from every direction, swarming toward the pot with unnatural determination.

  "What the..." Bai Mei swatted at mosquitoes and flies suddenly thick around them. "Lin Fan, what did you put in there?"

  Lin Fan quickly covered the pot, but insects continued gathering, crawling over the lid and around the stove.

  "The Insect Attractor," he groaned, shooing away a persistent beetle. "I think the broth is calling them. But how? Something went wrong. Let's keep it out and move away for some time."

  They had to abandon the stall temporarily, retreating down the street until the swarm dispersed. When they returned cautiously, Lin Fan disposed of the ruined broth, pouring it down a drain at the farthest corner of the street.

  He stood at his counter, staring at his remaining ingredients with frustration. Three failures, each different from the last.

  System: Quest Progress: 1/5 Spirit-Infused Dishes Created System: Time Remaining: 2 Days, 18 Hours

  Lin Fan frowned at the floating message. The countdown pressure didn't help his concentration.

  "Maybe that's enough for tonight," Bai Mei suggested gently. "You look tired."

  "One more try," Lin Fan insisted, already reaching for fresh herbs. "I need to understand what I'm doing wrong."

  As he washed his hands in preparation, he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. A small garden snake slithered onto the counter, its scales glistening in the lantern light. It was thin, no thicker than his finger, with distinctive pale green markings.

  "Shoo!" He waved at the creature. It only coiled itself more comfortably near his prep area, watching him with unusual intensity. It even licked the spilled liquid on the counter.

  "It seems interested in your cooking," Bai Mei observed, keeping a cautious distance.

  The snake's tongue flicked rapidly, almost as if it were tasting the lingering qi in the air. Its eyes, unusually bright for such a creature, followed Lin Fan's movements with clear focus.

  Lin Fan tried to brush it away with a cloth, but the snake simply moved to another spot on the counter. After several failed attempts to remove it, he sighed in resignation.

  "Leave it be. It's harmless," Bai Mei said.

  "Fine. Just stay out of the way." Lin Fan turned away.

  For his fifth attempt, Lin Fan used a new method. Instead of forcing his qi into the food, he created a gentle flow between himself and the ingredients. His father's notes mentioned "harmonizing intent with the water's movement," which he now saw in a new light.

  As the broth simmered, he saw the snake watching closely, its body shifting slightly as if copying the energy flows Lin Fan was making. Strangely, its presence no longer bothered him. It even seemed to help him focus, its stillness contrasting with his careful movements.

  This time, when golden specks appeared in the liquid, they formed steady, gentle patterns instead of chaotic swirls. The color deepened to a rich amber, and the aroma carried hints of ginger, scallion, and something more fleeting—a touch of sunlight and vitality.

  Lin Fan carefully filled a bowl, his heart pounding with hope. The first sip confirmed his success, the warmth spread through his body just as before, invigorating instead of merely nourishing. He felt his meridians respond, the qi circulation becoming smoother, more natural.

  "I did it," he whispered, passing a bowl to Bai Mei. "This is right."

  As he tasted it with evident delight, Lin Fan noticed the snake stretching toward the pot, its body extending with clear purpose.

  On impulse, he poured a small amount into a shallow dish and placed it near the creature. The snake approached cautiously, tasting the liquid with its tongue before lapping at it with surprising enthusiasm.

  "Should you be feeding it?" Bai Mei asked dubiously. "What if it's poisonous?"

  Lin Fan shrugged. "It helped me focus somehow. Besides, my father always said cooking is about sharing."

  The snake finished its portion and looked up at Lin Fan, its eyes holding an awareness that seemed almost unnatural. For a brief moment, he could have sworn he felt something. A flicker of gratitude or connection between them, like a thread of qi stretching from the creature to himself.

  System: Spirit-Infused Dish Created: Heart-Warming Broth (Basic) System: Quest Progress: 2/5 Spirit-Infused Dishes Created

  Lin Fan smiled with quiet satisfaction as the message appeared. He had succeeded twice now, proving the first wasn't just luck. More importantly, he was beginning to understand his father's methods, the balance between intent and technique, the circulation of energy rather than forced infusion.

  "You're different," Bai Mei said suddenly, studying his face. "Your movements are more... precise. And your eyes. They seem clearer somehow."

  Lin Fan hadn't noticed until he mentioned it, but he could see better in the dim light of the stall than ever before. The lantern's glow seemed brighter, colors more distinct. Even his body felt different. Lighter, more responsive.

  He got containers ready to bring broth home to his mother and sister, saving another portion for tomorrow's customers. The failed attempts had been frustrating but informative. Each mistake had taught him something crucial about the cultivation process.

  As he cleaned his workstation, he noticed the snake still hadn't left. It had coiled itself near the warm stove, watching him with what seemed like expectation.

  "You can't stay here," he told it firmly, though without much conviction. "I'll get in trouble if the health inspectors find you."

  The snake didn't move, its pale green scales catching the lantern light. Instead, it seemed to settle more comfortably, as if it had found its new home.

  "I think you've made a friend," Bai Mei said, gathering his things to leave.

  Lin Fan sighed, eyeing the persistent creature. "Let's hope it's gone by morning."

  But somehow, he suspected it wouldn't be. And stranger still, he wasn't entirely displeased by the thought. The snake had appeared just when his cultivation journey began, perhaps that wasn't coincidence.

  As he closed the stall for the night, the warm current of qi continued to flow through his meridians, a constant reminder of the change that had begun. Three more spirit-infused dishes to create before the deadline. The task seemed daunting, but not impossible.

  Not now that he had taken his first steps on the path his father had laid before him.