The Dragon Bone Broth had not only healed their wounds but whispered truths into their souls.
As the trio descended from the Celestial Wok's trial, the mist that cloaked the Thousand Flame Basin began to part, revealing a quiet temple nestled deep within the canyon walls—hidden beneath a veil of steam, as if it waited only for them.
Bai Xue narrowed her eyes. "Was this here before?"
Flame Duck tilted his head. "Nope. Either we're hallucinating… or we're finally being invited to the real menu."
Lin Feng stepped forward, his heart strangely heavy with anticipation. "No. This… this is something else."
As they crossed the charred stone path toward the temple, each step seemed to echo beyond the veil of reality. The wooden gate opened of its own accord with a soft creak, releasing a plume of fragrant steam. Inside, incense burned with a scent of osmanthus and grilled scallion. The stone walls bore murals of celestial chefs battling not with blades, but with woks, chopsticks, and steaming ladles.
At the center stood an old man in golden robes, one hand resting on an ancient iron pot with nine locks engraved upon its lid.
"I've been waiting," the elder said, voice calm as warm soup. "For one who carries the flavor of forgotten destinies."
Lin Feng's brows furrowed. "Who are you?"
The elder smiled. "My name is unimportant. I am the Keeper of the Ninth Seal."
The room fell into silence.
"Wait," Flame Duck whispered. "You mean—that Ninth Seal? The mythical seal said to hold the original recipe of the First Sacred Dish?"
The old man nodded. "Nine Heavenly Seals were scattered across the world, each representing a different aspect of cultivation, cuisine, and cosmic balance. Eight have revealed themselves—some disguised as dishes, others as techniques. But the Ninth… the Ninth Seal is unlike the rest."
He ran his fingers gently across the lid of the pot. "It is the Flavor of Truth."
Bai Xue narrowed her eyes. "And you want Lin Feng to claim it?"
"No," the elder said. "I want him to understand it. The Ninth Seal does not submit to power. It responds only to sincerity. Heart. And hunger—not of the body, but of the spirit."
---
The Flavor of Truth
The old man placed a small wooden bowl in front of Lin Feng. Inside was a single dumpling. It shimmered faintly, as if formed from mist and memory.
"Eat this," he said. "And face your truest self."
Lin Feng hesitated, then brought the dumpling to his lips. The moment he bit down, the world fractured.
He stood in a void of stars, floating above an endless kitchen. Thousands of versions of himself flickered into being—each one wearing different robes, wielding different weapons, different chef tools. One was a tyrant, cooking armies into submission. Another was a monk, using noodles to bind spirits. A third was broken, hollow, cooking only for survival.
"You are every possibility," said a voice—his own, yet deeper, ancient. "The Ninth Seal does not choose a path for you. It reveals them all—and demands that you choose."
The images shifted—his mother's face. His village burning. Master Yu's laughter. The Dumpling Beast's sacrifice. Bai Xue's silent support. Even Flame Duck's ridiculous bravery.
"You carry so many ingredients… but what will you become?"
The voices faded. The stars disappeared.
Lin Feng woke in the temple, gasping for air. The bowl was empty.
The elder nodded solemnly. "You've tasted it. You are now bound to the Ninth Seal."
A faint symbol appeared on Lin Feng's right palm—nine arcs forming a spiral, glowing with golden light.
Flame Duck blinked. "So… what does it do?"
The elder smiled. "That's the mystery. Unlike the other seals, this one grants no technique—at least, not in the way you expect. It allows you to see the truth behind things. Behind people. Behind yourself. Whether that is a gift or curse… is up to you."
---
Rumblings of War
Later that night, as they prepared to return to the Dim Sum Sect, Bai Xue stood beside Lin Feng beneath a hanging paper lantern.
"That dumpling changed you," she said.
Lin Feng met her gaze. "It showed me who I could become. Not all of it was good."
"That's what makes you different." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You care. That's rarer than any sacred recipe."
Before Lin Feng could reply, a blast of wind scattered the lanterns. A figure landed before them—clad in robes black as scorched sugar, face half-covered by a porcelain mask shaped like a cracked bao.
"Found you," the intruder rasped. "The Ninth Seal belongs to the Eclipse Order now."
From the darkness, dozens more appeared—masked warriors wielding blades shaped like cooking tools, their presence warping the air.
Flame Duck squawked. "I knew we were on someone's menu!"
The masked leader unsheathed his weapon—a twin pair of skewers glowing with violet flame. "Hand over the seal, Lin Feng. Or I'll serve you on a silver plate."
Lin Feng drew his chopstick-sword, steam coiling around his hands. "You'll have to pry it from my sizzling spirit."
---
Battle Beneath the Steam
The fight erupted like oil on fire.
Flame Duck rolled forward, tossing chili grenades that burst into clouds of blinding spice. Bai Xue danced between enemies with her twin blades, cutting down masked warriors with precision and fury.
Lin Feng engaged the leader directly, every strike of his sword harmonizing with pulses from the Ninth Seal. He began to see—the slight hesitation in the masked man's left wrist, the false weight in his step, the flicker of fear behind the mask.
"You've never tasted truth," Lin Feng said. "Only power."
He unleashed Pinch of Purpose, aiming not to kill, but to disrupt. His finger jab struck the masked man's chest—and the mask cracked completely, falling away.
The face beneath it was familiar.
It was Su Ren.
The former head disciple of the Dumpling Sect. Believed dead years ago in the Great Food War.
"You?" Lin Feng whispered.
Su Ren's eyes were wild. "I learned that cooking is domination. And the Eclipse Order agrees. You think these dishes bring peace? They're weapons. And with the Nine Heavenly Seals, we'll rewrite the recipe of the world."
He lunged again, but Lin Feng sidestepped.
"Then you've already lost," Lin Feng replied. "Because true cooking—true power—brings people together."
With a final burst of Qi, Lin Feng channeled the Soul of the Sauce, infusing his blade with every lesson he'd learned. The strike struck Su Ren's blade, not breaking it—but purifying it. The dark Qi unraveled. Su Ren fell to his knees, clutching his head, his madness dissipating like burnt steam.
The other Eclipse warriors fled into the mist.
---
Return to the Dim Sum Sect
Back at the Sect, Master Zhou listened silently to Lin Feng's account. When it ended, he spoke only one word.
"War."
The Nine Seals were awakening. And now the Eclipse Order had revealed itself. Their goal: collect the Seals and cook the ultimate dish—one that would reshape reality itself.
"But they're missing one," Bai Xue said. "Lin Feng has the Ninth."
Zhou nodded. "Which means we still have hope. But it also means they'll come with everything they have."
Lin Feng stood on the edge of the Sect's cliff, the symbol of the Ninth Seal glowing faintly on his palm.
He didn't know how all the ingredients of his journey would come together yet—but he knew this:
He was no longer just a disciple.
He was a chef of destiny.
---