Chapter 5 — ILK Chapter 5

Rendering Lard and Bubble Wontons (1)

When the warship descended upon the Black Tower Planet military base, violent winds whipped black grit and sand against the hull. A pale blue energy shield enveloped the ship, parrying the aggressive debris while remaining as steady as a mountain.

Sang Ye looked out of the porthole. The sky of Black Tower was overcast and gloomy; not even a sliver of light from the artificial sun could penetrate the haze. As they entered the atmosphere, she realized the entire planet resembled a gargantuan black mine. Gray mist clung to the rolling, endless mountain ranges, and the distant sea was a deep, lifeless gray.

Having grown up in the vibrant, spiritually rich Shifang Grotto, Sang Ye had never seen a landscape so devoid of life. The sight pressed heavily against her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

At the solemn, empty spaceport of the base stood several black figures. From Sang Ye's vantage point, they were mere specks, like ants compared to the colossal warship. Once the gale subsided, Sang Ye prepared to disembark with her escorts.

Su Mo stood beside her. The warship's spatial jump was incredibly fast; as long as a direct spatial tunnel was established between two planets, one could reach the most remote border of the Imperial system in under half an hour. They hadn't had a chance to speak the whole way, until now.

Su Mo lowered his voice, masking it beneath the noise of the opening hatch, using his mental power to whisper a message to Sang Ye: "The current Executive Officer of Black Tower is named Asu Ment. She is iron-willed and extremely difficult to deal with. She was once a high-ranking General of the Imperial Expeditionary Force with legendary military merits. When she felt the first signs of her mental stability collapsing, she chose self-exile here. Her daughter was also a Sentinel who met with an accident during an expedition. A Guide’s improper handling accelerated the death of her spiritual form and mental landscape, and they couldn't save her."

As the hatch slowly opened, Su Mo’s words sank deep into Sang Ye’s heart: "She utterly loathes... that kind of Guide. You must be careful. If trouble arises, it's better to swallow your pride first. You were sent here by Her Majesty, so you are nominally under the Empress's direct jurisdiction. As long as you don't provoke her, she won't go out of her way to harm you. The Empire has legal procedures, but in extreme cases here, the courts have no power—especially against an officer of her rank and record."

He spoke rapidly: "Information on Black Tower is scarce. There are no official documents on which Sentinels or Guides are here or what their spiritual forms are; the Empire suppresses such news. I only know about General Asu because she is so famous. I can't help you with anything else."

Sang Ye nodded and used her mental power to convey her thanks. Su Mo wasn't a bad person; he was just weak.

The Empress's Chamberlain stood at the front, pretending to be oblivious to the fluctuations in mental power, and led the group toward the leader of the figures on the ground.

General Asu Ment was tall, standing at a full 1.9 meters. Pale gold curls hung beside her face, which featured sharp brows, upturned eyes, and cold, hard cheekbones. She wore a black combat suit with a sharp, curved short blade strapped to her left thigh. Perched on her shoulder was a black-and-red creature that looked like a giant eagle with horns, possessing no tail feathers but a long tail resembling that of a fish.

Several people stood behind Asu, all in matching combat suits, but none were accompanied by similar creatures. Unlike normal Sentinels, Asu had mental power visibly leaking from her, yet she seemed indifferent to this sign of imminent collapse.

Sentinels needed to control their mental power to keep their spiritual forms safely stable within their mental landscape; this allowed the forms to provide a steady supply of power for combat. A wandering spiritual form constantly drained the limited energy of the landscape. Releasing a spiritual form externally was a last resort: a gamble on the battlefield where one consumed every drop of mental power to decide victory or defeat.

A spiritual form "escaping" meant the master had either lost the ability to manage it or simply didn't care about stability. Asu was clearly the latter.

"General Ment." The Chamberlain and Asu exchanged military salutes. "As stated in the decree, I have delivered the base supplies along with the Guide, Sang Ye."

He moved slightly, allowing Asu to see Sang Ye standing a step behind him under guard. Asu cast a look of undisguised loathing and gave an almost imperceptible, reluctant nod. She didn't even care to respond verbally to the Chamberlain.

Sang Ye met her gaze briefly before looking away. She wasn't foolish enough to pick a fight with someone who clearly hated her. Instead, she focused on the strange creature on Asu's shoulder.

A Gu-Eagle (Gǔdiāo). Though it looked like an eagle, it lived in water. It was fierce, combative, and often fought to the death. It seemed this was another Ancient spiritual form.

"May I see the Prince today?" Sang Ye heard the Chamberlain ask.

"No. He went to the Lorde Mountains two days ago; the natives there attacked the garrison base," Asu replied curtly. "Even if he were at the base, he wouldn't want to see you."

The Chamberlain, accustomed to Asu's style, replied, "Then when the Prince returns, please inform him..."

"You can send him a message yourselves. Black Tower only blocks civilian communication; for the Royal Family to send word, it's just a matter of moving a finger," Asu interrupted.

The Chamberlain fell silent.

Asu finally shifted her attention to Sang Ye. Fueled by her hatred, her leaking mental power intensified, rolling toward Sang Ye like a physical pressure. "I have prepared a kitchen and a separate rest area for you per Her Majesty's decree. Whether you have business or not, stay out of my sight. Black Tower is not a place for you to act out. If you dare cause trouble, I will tear you to pieces personally."

The Gu-Eagle on her shoulder let out a piercing shriek like a baby's cry, a clear threat to Sang Ye.

"General!" the Chamberlain frowned in warning.

Asu snorted, turned, and strode away, throwing back a final word: "Take her to the back. No need for a send-off!"

After hearing Su Mo’s warning, Sang Ye wasn't surprised by Asu’s hostility. She didn't even need to settle her emotions; she immediately began inspecting the kitchen the base had provided.

It was located in the most remote southwest corner of the base, an insignificant spot. However, it was over three hundred square meters, not counting the warehouse, and fully equipped with cookware and utensils.

Her rest area—a term that did it an injustice—was a two-story small building with a garden, tucked behind the kitchen at the very edge of the base. Beyond it was a cliff and the gloomy black sea, a view that looked treacherous.

The garden was just a patch of bare ground. The soil was dead—no smell, no life, just a void. The building was equally empty, with only a bed and a set of bedding on the second floor. It lacked any other furniture, making it worse than her prison cell.

However, finally free from surveillance, Sang Ye sat down against the wall and buried her head in her knees. If her Master were still here, she would have praised her for being brave and clever, stuffed her pockets with fresh snacks, and filled her purse with gold trinkets. But here, she had nothing.

She immersed herself in her pocket dimension. Beneath the Parasol Tree, the branches lowered and patted her gently. Sang Ye finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When she woke up, Sang Ye had cast aside her melancholy. She had to live well to honor her Master's teachings and sacrifice. As for her boast to the Empress about curing Lin Changli, she snorted inwardly: I have to actually meet the man to cure him. Even his own people can't see him, let alone a nobody like me who's already hated by the General.

She checked her terminal. Behind the name "Sang Ye" hung a blood-red tag: "9999-year sentence." Compared to that, the massive debt seemed trivial—though still worth noting, as she realized her entire salary and subsidies were being docked for a "Compensation Account," leaving her only 2000 star-credits for "minimum living expenses."

Beneath her sentence, a helpful tip read: Guides can earn sentence reductions through meritorious service or by channeling Sentinels. Reductions are determined by the Black Tower Executive Officer, the Imperial Court, and Her Majesty. It was like the carrot dangled over the heads of cultivators: work hard, and if fate allows, you'll ascend.

Sang Ye walked into the kitchen to make herself something to eat. She decided on Bubble Wontons.

This was a dish that was tedious to make but delightful to eat—you could practically "drink" them. The skins were thin as a cicada's wing, transparent enough to read text through, yet strong enough not to tear or dissolve in water. The broth required a high-quality stock paired with snow-white, delicate lard.

Children loved these wontons. Their mouths were small, and unlike larger wontons where the filling might fall out, Bubble Wontons were just right. One bite released the air bubble, letting the savory broth rush in, followed by a fine, pure meat filling. The filling had to be lean meat mixed with secret seasonings—no fat or vegetables allowed, or it would ruin the delicate skin.

Sang Ye pulled flour and about five kilograms of pork belly from her storage ring, along with ingredients for a chicken, duck, and bone broth. A benefit of Asu's loathing was that she didn't have to sneak into the base warehouse to hide her ingredients.

She placed matsutake mushrooms, shrimp, and white fish slices at the bottom of a pressure cooker, then added a whole chicken, a duck, and four or five marrow-heavy bones. She never skimped on her own meals, pouring in spiritual spring water from Mt. Peach Blossom, which carried a fresh peach scent. She wanted to see if modern pressure cookers could speed up the rendering of high broth.

While the broth cooked, she made the dough with flour, two eggs, and water, letting it rest. She then separated the fat and lean portions of the pork belly. She preferred lard rendered from pork belly fat; it was more fragrant and had less of an odor than leaf lard.

She rendered the lard using the water-method to prevent it from becoming too greasy or sticking to the pan. She boiled the fat in plain water first to remove impurities, then boiled it a second time with cooking wine to remove any gamey scent. This resulted in lard that was snow-white and exceptionally smooth.

Finally, she added three or four bowls of spiritual spring water, large sections of scallion, and slices of ginger to the lard pieces, simmering them slowly. She used a metal strainer to press the fat, collecting the oil in a ceramic jar until the pork bits became crispy. Rendering the lard was complete.

Just as she was snacking on a crispy pork crackling, she spotted a small head peeking through the kitchen window. It was a girl of about five or six with intricately braided hair. Her posture was odd; while most kids would stand on tiptoe to look, she was stretching her neck as if her lower body couldn't move.

Sang Ye lowered her guard. She was confused—why was there a child this small at the base? She pretended not to notice, took a bowl of pork cracklings, and quietly walked around the island to the door.

"Ah!" The little girl let out a yelp of surprise and let go of the windowsill, falling back into her wheelchair.

Yes, a wheelchair.

The girl wore a bright yellow ruffled dress. On her wrist, beside a terminal, were two golden bracelets with tiny bells that tinkled with every movement. She was clearly a cherished child.

But for a child so young, everything below her knees was... missing.