The morning in the Grave of the Thousand Swords began not with the crow of a rooster, but with the terrifying sound of a broom sweeping the floor.
Swish. Swish.
Su Ling, the former Holy Daughter of the Alchemy Alliance and current waitress-in-training, held the broom with trembling hands. She stared at the bristles.
They weren't straw. They weren't plastic. To her Spirit Vision, every single bristle of this broom was made from the whiskers of a Void-Traversing Dragon.
The Grandmaster uses Dragon Whiskers to sweep dust? Su Ling swallowed hard, her worldview cracking a little more. She looked at the dustpan. It was made of a strange, lightweight grey material (plastic), but it radiated an aura of eternal durability that surpassed even Black Gold (it was high-grade polymer from Earth).
"Su Ling? You okay there? You've been sweeping the same spot for ten minutes," Shen Yu's voice drifted from the kitchen.
Su Ling jumped. "Yes! Yes, Boss! I am just... admiring the Divine Artifacts!"
"Divine Artifacts?" Shen Yu poked his head out, holding a bag of soybeans. "It's a broom, Su Ling. bought it on sale. Two for one."
Two for one? Su Ling's mind raced. Does he mean he traded two minor realms for one artifact? Or perhaps two laws of causality? The price is unfathomable.
"Anyway, come help me prep. We need to soak the beans," Shen Yu said, retreating back to the counter.
Su Ling abandoned the broom (placing it reverently against a pillar) and rushed to the counter.
Shen Yu was currently engaged in his morning ritual: Shopping.
He opened the Food Dao System interface. A holographic blue screen appeared in front of him, invisible to everyone else.
[System Shop]
Premium Non-GMO Soybeans (500g): 5 System Points High-Gluten Flour (1kg): 8 System Points Yeast (Packet): 2 System Points Alum-free Baking Powder: 3 System Points
"Need to restock on basics," Shen Yu muttered, tapping the air. "Buy. Buy. Buy."
To Su Ling, standing on the other side of the counter, the scene was horrifyingly majestic.
She watched as Shen Yu stared into the void, his eyes unfocused. He raised a finger and casually tapped the empty air.
Buzz.
Space rippled. A small black hole opened above the counter—a tear in the fabric of reality itself. From this void, a bag of beans fell out, landing with a heavy thud. Then a bag of white powder. Then small sachets of mysterious granules.
Su Ling clutched her chest. Void Creation! Creation from nothingness! He doesn't even use a storage ring; he simply commands the Heavenly Dao to materialize ingredients!
"Alright," Shen Yu said, tearing open the bag of soybeans. "Time to make breakfast. Do you like soy milk?"
"Soy... milk?" Su Ling repeated the words as if they were a mantra.
"Yeah. It's good for the skin. High protein," Shen Yu said. He poured the beans into a large metal bowl.
The beans clattered like pearls falling onto a jade plate.
Su Ling peered into the bowl. These weren't normal soybeans. Each bean was perfectly round, possessing a luster that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. They didn't look like plants; they looked like condensed stars.
These are the seeds of the World Tree, Su Ling concluded internally. They must be. The vitality coming off them is enough to resurrect a corpse.
"Wash these," Shen Yu ordered, handing her the bowl.
Su Ling took the bowl as if it weighed a thousand mountains. "Yes, Boss! I will cleanse them with my very soul!"
"Just tap water is fine," Shen Yu said, turning to the flour. "Don't overthink it."
The preparation of breakfast was a spectacle that Su Ling would recount in her memoirs as "The Morning of Golden Enlightenment."
She watched Shen Yu knead the dough. His hands moved with a rhythm that defied the standard laws of physics. Push, pull, fold. It was gentle yet firm, like the rotation of the galaxy.
He is molding the chaos into order, Su Ling thought, her eyes wide. That white powder... is it the dust of stars?
Shen Yu covered the dough with a damp cloth. "Let it rest. Patience is key."
Patience, Su Ling noted mentally. The Dao requires stillness.
While the dough rested, Shen Yu fired up the stone mill (a manual grinder he bought because it looked "authentic"). He poured the soaked beans in.
Grind. Grind.
A milky white liquid flowed out. The scent was grassy, fresh, and overwhelmingly pure.
"System," Shen Yu whispered. "Filter out the okara. I want this smooth."
[Affirmative. Impurities removed. Spiritual Essence Concentration: 200%.]
Shen Yu poured the raw soy milk into a pot on the stove. He lit the fire.
"Now, the Youtiao," Shen Yu said.
He uncovered the dough. It had risen beautifully. He rolled it out into long strips, stacked two together, and pressed a chopstick down the middle.
Stretch.
He dropped the long strip of dough into the hot oil.
Sizzle!
The sound was like a sudden rainstorm. The dough strip expanded instantly, floating to the surface, turning from pale white to a brilliant, mouth-watering golden brown. It grew large, airy, and crisp.
"Golden Deep-Fried Dough Sticks," Shen Yu announced, fishing it out with long wooden chopsticks. "Or as I like to call them, the Crutches of the Hungry."
Su Ling stared at the golden stick. To her, it looked like a Golden Dragon shedding its mortal skin and ascending. The oil glistening on its surface was like dragon scales.
"Breakfast is served," Shen Yu said.
He placed a bowl of hot, steaming soy milk and a plate of golden Youtiao on the counter. He added a small dish of pickled mustard greens and a dash of chili oil.
"Sit," Shen Yu commanded.
Su Ling sat. She felt unworthy.
"Eat. You're too skinny. Customers won't trust a restaurant with a skinny waitress."
Su Ling picked up the bowl. The steam hit her face, opening every pore. She took a sip of the soy milk.
It was smooth. So smooth it felt like drinking silk. The flavor was subtle—a slight sweetness, a rich bean aroma—but the effect was instantaneous.
Whoosh.
A warm current rushed through her body, but unlike the violent breakthrough of the Egg Fried Rice, this was gentle. It was a cleansing wave.
Su Ling gasped. She could feel the "Pill Poison"—the toxic residue accumulated in her liver and meridians from years of testing her own imperfect alchemical pills—dissolving.
Black sludge began to seep out of her pores.
"Ew," Shen Yu wrinkled his nose. "I told you soy milk is detoxifying, but that's fast. Go wash your face, you're sweating soot."
Su Ling ignored the embarrassment. She took a bite of the Youtiao.
Crunch.
The outside was shattered glass crispy. The inside was fluffy, airy, and chewy. It soaked up the residual soy milk in her mouth, creating a symphony of textures.
This isn't food, Su Ling cried silently, tears mixing with the black sludge on her face. This is the Elixir of Marrow Cleansing! A single bowl of this is worth more than my entire sect's treasury! And he eats this... for breakfast?
"Is it good?" Shen Yu asked, dipping his own Youtiao into his bowl.
"It is... the taste of the Heavens," Su Ling choked out.
"It's a bit bland," Shen Yu critiqued. "I should have added more sugar."
While Su Ling was undergoing a biological and spiritual rebirth in the corner, a disturbance occurred outside.
The mist of the Grave of the Thousand Swords parted.
Two figures approached.
One was Li Changfeng, the Sect Leader of the Cloud Soaring Sect, now radiating the powerful aura of a Nascent Soul cultivator. He wore fresh, opulent blue robes and carried a heavy wooden box.
The other was an old man with a long white beard, wearing robes embroidered with golden cranes. His face was etched with skepticism and arrogance.
This was Elder Yan, the Grand Elder of the Cloud Soaring Sect.
"Changfeng," Elder Yan grumbled, his voice like grinding stones. "You dragged me out of seclusion for this? A roadside stall in the forbidden zone? You claim you met an Immortal who broke your bottleneck with a bowl of noodles? Have you gone mad from qi deviation?"
"Grand Elder, please," Li Changfeng whispered urgently, sweat beading on his forehead. "Keep your voice down. The Senior prefers a low profile. You must not offend him. His cultivation is unfathomable. Even his dog is terrifying."
"A dog?" Elder Yan scoffed. He looked ahead.
He saw the "Peace Tavern." It looked like a rickety shed. He saw the young man behind the counter, eating dough sticks. He looked like a mortal. No spiritual fluctuations whatsoever.
"Changfeng, you've been duped," Elder Yan sneered. "That is a mortal. And that dog..."
He pointed at Meatball, who was currently lying on its back, exposing its belly to the sun, snoring.
"...is a fat mongrel."