80 He understands

"What's with this guy," Li Yangyi shouted, angry. He glanced at the sleeping Lan Jiu and considered if he should strangle him. What kind of attitude was that, to waltz through the world with such bloodthirsty, that he did not mind even assaulting an old man?

Zhang Yong was also infuriated by the wanton actions of that long-haired man. Of course, he would not stand for such unjust behavior. "That is the problem with these dark faction people. They are arrogant and ignorant of reason. As long as it furthers their path, they do not care about the measures they have to take."

Mei Xue did not reply. She had her own thoughts. For one, people supposedly siding with what is right are not free of sin either. Just look at Magistrate Wi, who threatened to pull his sword just because things did not go his way. No, on the contrary, she was interested to see the elusive martial arts used by those from the Waning Principle sect.

For people like Li Yinyi or the two store clerks, they held no ulterior feelings and only wished to satisfy their curiosity for drama.

Lan Jiu did not care about the judging eyes of the customers. He understood by now that these people have also come to this store to gain strength, just like him, so there was no reason to be humble anymore. 

The old chef twirled with his beard. He appeared nonchalant, even a little amused. "That's a little aggressive, don't you think? Are we enemies of the past life, or what?"

Lan Jiu squinted his eyes. Was this the wrong course of action? He thought for sure this was some kind of martial art hall, where he continued fighting his way up. "But you said you were strong?"

"But not in fighting," the chef spoke. "I am a cook, I use my hands to make food, not beat people down, ya' see?"

"A cook?" The man with a ponytail grew confused. He lowered his guard. "My apologies then. I suppose this is a misunderstanding." Lan Jiu bowed down. Well, that certainly was embarrassing. He may be from the Waning Principle sect, but he did not follow the ideas of destruction as they did.

"Are you hungry," the old man chef asked, "If you have nothing else to do, why not get some food."

"Is it even possible for me to eat while in this state?" As far as he understood, the current him was only a thought, not connected to his body, and this was all an illusory world, though he did not know the kind of effects it would have on him yet. "Oh well, only one way to find out. I haven't eaten for quite a while, running away and hiding all the time."

Li Yangyi watching this, grit his teeth. "So he was offering his food to everyone, not just me, huh? What a traitor!"

"What are you? Some jealous missis?" Zhang Yong gave him the side-eye.

Lan Jiu took his well-deserved rest at the chef's home. It was the first time in a long while since he was able to take a relaxing break, even though it wasn't a truly real one. But within this small little house, he felt the warmth of the chimney, the resistance of the floor, the creaking of old wood and chirping wind, the smell of aromatic flowers, and the sound of nature outside. All this together created an unbelievable realism that he may as well regard this place as real. It made him wonder if all these people like the chef weren't maybe souls trapped through evil means, doomed to entertain the guests for eternity. It was so authentic, he was at a loss for words.

"Is there anything you cannot eat," the chef asked.

"If it were the old times, I'd have told you I didn't like the smell of lamb." Lan Jiu paused. "But by now, even if you presented me with dried dirt, I think I wouldn't complain."

The chef glanced at him. "We all come from different backgrounds, with all our own stories, what?" He placed a cup of tea in front of his guest.

Lan Jiu smiled. It had been a while since the warm vapor of tea basked upon his face. He felt his eyelids lighter, and the dark circles around his eyes seemed just a little brighter. "That is true," the man replied, not elaborating.

"I'll make steamed cabbage soup, is that fine?"

"It's more than I could ever bargain for," the man replied. "Take your time, I have waited for years, I can wait a few hours more." After all, in all his life, he had never been treated with true hospitality.

"I won't let a man stay hungry, at least not while he is in my presence. Make yourself comfortable, the whole thing won't take long." The chef laughed, and he took out one of the knives in his drawer. To the unknowing, they looked clean, as if just brought.

Lan Jiu stood up. He was unsure of the social cues. Was he supposed to help prepare the food? All he learned within the sect was how to cut and kill, not to serve. Things such as friends, family, or freedom were not ideals he associated himself with.

Most did not understand, but those from the Waning Principle sect were almost all orphans (Some were abducted from their parents and sold, but these kids never made it far). After their adoption, they'd train their whole lives to become the perfect killing machine. They were guided in torture and killing, their morals were systematically whittled down, while only their poison immunity was strengthened. It was like the parable of 'Gu' where numerous poisonous insects are thrown inside a vase, and only one would survive, creating the most toxic poison.

From age 5 to 16, only 10% survive the group, and most of them hated each other, as, without a doubt, they had betrayed each other within their journey. Every few years, a new generation was born, and if it weren't for their eventual destruction by Lan Wu, they'd go on to create many more.

Lan Jiu, as his surname went, was of the Lan (Lan is Chinese for 'blue') generation. They all went for colors, and their titles were numbers (Jiu means 'nine', while Wu means 'five'). They held no true identity of their own.

A tantalizing aroma wafted through the kitchen, then the whole room. In all his life, he had never smelled such a beautiful, mesmerizing smell. It was evident, even with his limited knowledge of good food, that this chef knew what he was doing. Now, he was even more curious about what he was doing.

The chef, just like the other guest remembered, moved in an expertly, almost supernatural manner. With a single cut, the cabbage became many different pieces, thin enough to hold against the sunlight. They were sure he did many feats which deserved recognition, but as combatants, they only had the right to analyze his knife skills.

For Lan Jiu, it was as if lightning struck him. His eyes glimmered with excitement. "You are a fighter after all."

The chef turned around. "Oh? You can't wait, huh?"

The sect member looked around and took one of the many knives. He checked their quality and spoke to himself. "I should have known. Such incredible quality. One look tells me their story. No ordinary person could have used them this well. You really fooled me."

The chef stopped cutting. He faced Lan Jiu, the knife still in his hands. He did not say anything.

"But, if I were to use a weapon, I would surely die in your hands, no?" He placed the knife back down. And before anyone could react, he attacked the chef, a slicing motion with his hand.

The old man also put his blade away. "Smart boy. A knife is used for cooking after all." He moved opposite of Lan Jiu, turning his inertia against him. With a swift motion, the chef circled around himself, and threw Lan Jiu far away, without even touching him.

The long-haired man flew for a long time until crashing into an empty shelf, causing it to collapse. Anyone watching would cringe, imagining his pain. However, all he did was smile. He smiled, so genuine, and full of exhilaration, it was hard to imagine he got his beaten up. "This is it!" His breath was uneven, and his cheeks flushed red. "This was what I was looking for!" 

The chef offered to help him up, but he did not take it. Instead, he attacked him once more, this time with a kick. Unlike ordinary ones, it curled around, again, just like a snake, but the chef flipped him over once more.

No matter what he tried, Lan Jiu did not get through to him. But he did not despair. He stabilized his breathing. "Thousand Viper Destruction," he spoke, using his ultimate attack, a flurry of unpredictable punches.

Yet, the chef dodged all of them with ease. He grabbed Lan Jius's head and slammed it on the table. "Whoops, sorry, this may have been too much."

Lan Jius' face remained buried in the wood. His head bled. "I knew it. All these abilities from the sect were utter trash after all." He stood up, wood splinters decorating him. The man staggered around. "In comparison, the martial arts you use is the real deal. I am humbled." He clenched his fist and got into a fighting stance. Though he seemed on the verge of passing out, the spiritual essence around him ran wild. "This is truly what the Dao entails. I understand now. Chef, I thank you for your lesson." 

He moved forward.