The sky over the Golden Wok Clan glowed like the surface of a hot pan. Lin Feng had just returned, dusty and tired, from the Cursed Forest of Condiments. His hands still smelled faintly of chili vinegar and ancient soy, but he clutched the Golden Wok Spice like a treasure.
Elder Bai didn't wait for him to catch his breath.
"You made it back!" the old man exclaimed, eyes practically glowing. "Perfect timing. There's something big coming."
Lin Feng frowned. "Unless it's a month-long nap or a full-body massage, I'm not interested."
Elder Bai ignored him and thumped a thick scroll on the table. "The Culinary Tournament of the Gods. You're entering."
Lin Feng blinked. "...The what?"
"The most sacred cooking battle in all the realms. Where chefs from across the continents compete to win the Divine Ladle!"
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. If I win, I get some ancient utensil that glows, floats, and judges people?"
Elder Bai nodded. "Exactly."
"Sounds cursed."
"Definitely is."
Lin Feng sighed and rubbed his face. "Why do I feel like the duck's gonna enjoy this more than I will?"
The flame duck, perched smugly on his shoulder, let out a low crackle-quack and belched a small flame into the air.
"I rest my case."
---
Arrival at the Tournament Grounds
The arena was massive—bigger than any battlefield Lin Feng had ever seen. Huge stone kitchens were arranged in circles, like war camps for gourmet generals. Banners flapped in the wind, each one bearing the crest of a different culinary school.
Chefs bustled around in custom aprons, some sharpening knives, others meditating over cauldrons.
And then there was Lin Feng—nervous, underdressed, and walking beside a fire-breathing duck.
"Tell me again why I'm doing this," he muttered.
The duck flapped onto his head, ruffled its feathers, and made a sound that was either encouragement or indigestion.
The announcer's voice boomed across the sky:
"Welcome, contestants! Round one begins now! Signature ingredients only! One hour! GO!"
Lin Feng stepped into his cooking circle and looked over the mystical ingredients piled on the table. Dragonfruit. Moonvine Leaves. Spicy Lotus Pods. And something that looked suspiciously like it had just blinked.
"Okay," he muttered. "No pressure."
---
The Rival: Chef Golem
A massive shadow loomed over Lin Feng. He turned to see a hulking man with arms like rolling pins and a beard that could shelter small birds.
"Chef Golem," the man rumbled, crossing his arms. "I grind bones for broth."
Lin Feng stared. "Wow. Do... do you want a hug, man? You seem tense."
Golem grunted. "I use molten rock as my signature ingredient."
Lin Feng blinked. "Is that even edible?"
"It is when I cook it," the man growled.
"Well," Lin Feng said, backing toward his station. "That's horrifying."
---
Time to Cook
"Alright, duck," Lin Feng whispered. "Let's try not to set the place on fire."
The duck immediately dove into the ingredients and began flash-roasting lotus pods with its flaming beak.
Lin Feng worked fast. He wrapped fire-baked dragonfruit in Moonvine Leaves, layered in spicy lotus paste, and stirred the entire mixture using the Golden Wok Spice. Sparks burst around him as he flipped the wok like a symphony conductor.
Across the arena, Chef Golem was punching lava into shape. His rock-stew sizzled and bubbled ominously.
"I hope you brought a fire extinguisher," Lin Feng called out. "Because my duck is about to roast your ego."
The duck flared its wings and let out a showy stream of fire, drawing gasps from the crowd.
---
The Tasting
The judges floated toward him—three ancient beings with mustaches made of steam and expressions like disappointed grandparents.
They took bites of his dish: Flame-Roasted Dragonfruit Glazed in Moonfire.
The first judge paused, blinked, then burst into tears. "It tastes like... the first time I fell in love!"
The second judge clutched his chest. "My taste buds are ascending!"
The third simply passed out.
Lin Feng looked at his duck. "...Too much spice?"
The duck puffed up smugly.
---
Victory
The announcer shouted over the roar of the crowd:
"And the winner of Round One is—Lin Feng of the Golden Wok Clan!"
Golem slumped beside his bubbling stew. "How...?"
Lin Feng offered him a tissue. "Next time, try seasoning with something other than vengeance."
---
Aftermath
That night, Lin Feng lay back in his tent, staring at the stars. The duck snored quietly beside him, occasionally releasing a little puff of flame.
He'd won the first round. Barely. And ahead of him were even more bizarre chefs—rumored users of legendary food arts. One supposedly fought using noodles like Spider-Man's webs. Another had a soup so sour it could dissolve metal.
Lin Feng closed his eyes.
"Great," he muttered. "Tomorrow, I might have to fight a sushi samurai."
The duck crackled softly.
And somewhere, the Divine Ladle waited.
---