Chapter 4 — ILK Chapter 4

Tomato Scrambled Eggs and Scallion Oil Noodles

The Chamberlain led Sang Ye out of the study. As they walked, he tapped and swiped on his tablet, unlocking the restrictions on Sang Ye’s terminal and identity—save for the electric shock shackle on her ankle.

"Your terminal is unlocked, but the ankle shackle stays for now. Once you land on Black Tower Planet, it will detach automatically," the Chamberlain explained. "Your records have been moved from the prison to the Imperial Special Forces. The files of everyone sent to Black Tower are sealed here; their families receive an annual subsidy from the Imperial family. Since you have no family, that subsidy will be paid to you personally, though you won't have much use for it on Black Tower. Your rank remains unchanged—you are still a Colonel—but don't expect the comfortable life you had in the First Military District."

The Chamberlain’s tone was neutral, merely stating facts without sarcasm. Sang Ye kept her eyes forward, her expression unreadable. As she had done all along, she calmly accepted the arrangements. In reality, she breathed a huge sigh of relief, and the Parasol Tree in her pocket dimension swayed happily: Staying alive is the best thing that could happen!

As they rounded a corner, they encountered a smiling man—the Head Chef of the Outer Kitchen whom Sang Ye had met earlier.

"Sir, why are you here?" The Chamberlain’s tone softened into something resembling respect.

The Outer Head Chef smiled genially. "I'm waiting for her to come back and cook for me. She promised earlier. It seems she returned safely."

Sang Ye’s thoughts snapped back to the present. She smiled and said, "I'll go prepare it for you now."

The Chamberlain didn't stop them, allowing Sang Ye and the Outer Head Chef to walk back to the rear kitchen. The rich aroma of the high broth and the savory scent of the fried pork still lingered, but the place was empty; there was no sign of the Imperial Head Chef or Su Mo.

Sang Ye wanted to make something for herself as well, but not just Yangchun noodles. "How about I make you Scallion Oil Noodles and a serving of 'The Setting Sun'?"

Now that she felt relaxed, she didn't care if the Outer Head Chef had heard these names before and let them slip out naturally. He hadn't, of course, but he found them intriguing. "Anything you make is fine."

"The Setting Sun" was a poetic culinary name for Tomato Scrambled Eggs, an allusion to its colors. Sang Ye made a show of rummaging through the kitchen before pulling out some small scallions, eggs, and tomatoes. She preferred small scallions; their flavor was lighter and more delicate than large green onions, making them suitable for most palates. These scallions were freshly plucked from her pocket dimension, vibrant and still glistening with morning dew.

Scallion Oil Noodles is a simple, quick dish suitable for any season. She cut the white parts of the scallions into sections and finely minced the green parts. She heated oil in the pan—chefs often say "generous oil won't spoil the dish," which is true for beginners, but for Scallion Oil Noodles, too much oil results in a greasy, sickening mess that fails to absorb the scallion's essence.

Sang Ye used just enough oil to cover a section of her pinky finger—perfect for two people. Simultaneously, she prepared the seasoning bowl: oyster sauce, MSG, light soy sauce, a hint of sesame oil, and dark soy sauce. Proportion was key; too much soy or oyster sauce would make it salty, too little would leave it bland. Too much MSG would make it cloying, and too much sesame oil would be greasy. After years of training, her hand was like a precision instrument; she stopped exactly when needed, never a drop too many.

Once the oil was hot, she quickly added the scallions—whites first until soft, then the greens. The moment they hit the pan, a unique pungent aroma spread. She added a few shrimp at the right moment to fuse in a distinct seafood fragrance. Once the scallions were fried dark, she fished them out and poured the hot scallion oil into the prepared sauce. The moment they touched, a wonderful fragrance erupted. The most important part was using a low flame to fry slowly; otherwise, the scallions would burn instantly, making the whole batch of oil inedible.

Scallions weren't plants that absorbed much worldly spiritual energy, so their aura wasn't strong. However, due to the clever preparation and versatile taste, even cultivators were willing to try them.

She didn't rush to cook the noodles, as they tend to clump if left to cool. Instead, she processed the tomatoes as she had before, though she didn't mince them as finely this time—Tomato Scrambled Eggs required visible chunks. She also didn't separate the yolks and whites, opting for the integrity of the ingredients. She whisked the eggs thoroughly until tiny bubbles appeared on the surface. When she lifted the whisk, the mixture was silky and flowed smoothly.

When the oil reached the right temperature, she sautéed the tomatoes until the juice became pulpy, then set them aside. Next, she poured in the beaten eggs. Once they were fried to a bright, golden yellow, she added the tomatoes back in. The shaped eggs, soaked in sweet and sour tomato juice, looked so appetizing that Sang Ye wanted to feast immediately, but she suppressed the urge for the sake of the person waiting.

She served the Tomato Scrambled Eggs first—the kitchen had a small table for chefs to eat—and handed the Outer Head Chef a pair of chopsticks. "Eat this first; I'll be there as soon as the noodles are done."

The Outer Head Chef looked at the never-before-seen delicacy with undisguised eagerness but restrained himself. "I'll wait for you."

Sang Ye raised an eyebrow as she turned away; that was unexpected. She added a little water to the high broth and brought it to a boil, letting the spiritual energy spread once more. She took a deep breath, using the energy to soothe the day's fatigue.

She threw two handfuls of noodles into the broth. Normally, Sang Ye wouldn't stack high-energy foods like this; everything requires balance, as absorbing too much spiritual energy at once can cause adverse reactions. But now, she simply didn't want to waste anything. Broth of this caliber was hard to make in an Interstellar environment, especially since her pocket dimension lacked many of the required spiritual beast ingredients. Her stored broth was a finite resource.

Seeing that the Outer Head Chef looked healthy and had a good appetite, she didn't boil the noodles until they were mushy. She fished them out, drizzled them with scallion oil and the fried scallion sections, and used a clever flick of her wrist to toss them quickly. She plated two bowls of noodles and served two bowls of the broth, garnished with minced scallions and a pinch of MSG.

A simple meal was ready.

As soon as Sang Ye sat down, the Outer Head Chef eagerly took a bite of the noodles, his face filling with pure satisfaction. The scallion oil noodles were so fresh they practically danced on the tongue, and the shrimp added a perfect finish. The tomato scrambled eggs were sweet and sour, with the eggs beautifully soaked in juice.

Just as Sang Ye finally managed to eat a decent meal, the man across from her spoke.

"I didn't think you had such skill," he said between bites, ignoring his table manners. "I've seen your trial records. You're very different from how you were then. I thought you really had a death wish."

Sang Ye paused her chewing and looked at him. Though the Outer Head Chef was plump, he wasn't greasy; he radiated a cheerful, kind aura.

"What, did you think that just because I'm an 'Ordinary,' I wouldn't be able to tell?" he asked with his usual smile.

"I haven't asked how to address you yet," Sang Ye replied, pivoting to a different topic.

"I'm Lin Tengyuan," he answered.

At the mention of the surname, Sang Ye stopped eating entirely. "You and Her Majesty..."

"We're family, though our relationship is quite distant," Lin Tengyuan continued eating. "I was a Sentinel once, but after a mental riot, my mental power vanished completely. Even my spiritual form, which used to pester me to play, fell into a deep sleep." He pointed to his head. "I can still go in and see it lying there, but no matter how I call, it won't wake up. Without mental power, I retired. I couldn't stand being idle, so I took a titular job to stay in touch with my old comrades."

This was the first time Sang Ye had heard of mental power disappearing. It was likely the same as having one's spiritual veins or Dao-bones shattered in the cultivation world—becoming a total mortal.

"Even the Empress couldn't cure me. As powerful as she is, she was helpless regarding both me and Changli," Lin Tengyuan added.

At the mention of the name "Changli," Sang Ye became fully alert. Lin Tengyuan gave a sly smile. "Want to know about him?"

Sang Ye didn't deny it. "I do. The Empress pardoned me and exiled me to Black Tower specifically so I could cure him."

"Changli's situation is complicated. His spiritual form is the hardest kind to channel—we call them 'Ancient Mythical Beast' spiritual forms." Lin Tengyuan took a sip of soup and fell silent for a long moment. "Usually, a Guide channels a Sentinel by playing to their form—using a ball of yarn for a feline form or throwing a frisbee for a canine one. It all depends on how much mental power you have. But what do Ancient Mythical Beasts like? No one knows. That era is too far removed from us. Our galaxy has seen destruction, rebirth, migration, and war... so much time has passed that records are lost and can no longer be verified."

Lin Tengyuan slowly put down his fork. "Among Sentinels with Ancient Mythical Beast forms, every single one—except me—has died from a mental riot."

Sang Ye’s heart stirred. "What does your spiritual form look like?"

"Like a tiger, but with horns, colorful patterns on its body, and a tail longer than its entire frame," Lin Tengyuan described.

Zhuowu, Sang Ye thought. She had the answer.

(The Zhuowu is a legendary auspicious beast in ancient Chinese mythology, renowned as a symbol of righteousness, benevolence, and good governance. It is said to appear only during the reign of a virtuous and sincere monarch, signaling a period of prosperity and moral order)

"The Empress takes this very seriously. If you really can cure Changli, why worry about a prison sentence?"

"You seem to have a lot of confidence in me?" Sang Ye questioned.

"I didn't before, but I do now." He looked at the simple meal. Inside his mental landscape, the gray, decaying gas—like an eggshell—that had shrouded his spiritual form for years suddenly leaked a tiny wisp of air. After years of despair, fate had suddenly opened a crack for him.

"If Changli's situation weren't so urgent, I'd definitely keep you here," Lin Tengyuan laughed. "But it's okay. I can wait. There will be a chance. Maybe I'll even apply to be exiled to Black Tower myself later."

Sang Ye looked at him, speechless. Who in their right mind requests exile to Black Tower?

"I'm curious—what is the Marshal's spiritual form?" Sang Ye asked again.

But Lin Tengyuan gave the same smile the Empress had. "You'll know when you get there. Also, a word of advice." He stood up to leave. "If you manage to see Changli, do not mention the Empress. His mental riot is related to her. And he is by no means a gentle or tolerant person."