Ye Jun watched, and slowly came to understand why Spirit Chefs were considered a path of cultivation in their own right.
Old Lan moved like someone who had done his work ten thousand times, and yet not a single motion felt routine. Every chop, every pour, every twist of the wrist was measured, as if he was performing a ritual rather than cooking a meal.
'For Spirit Chefs, it might as well be a ritual,' Ye Jun thought in amusement.
Old Lan's Qi flowed in and out of his palms in steady streams, sometimes coating the knife, sometimes sinking into the cauldron, sometimes wrapping around an ingredient before it even touched the heat.
'He's using Qi for everything.'
It wasn't the wasteful, showy kind either. Each application had a purpose. When he sliced the Ember Fox's meat further into thin medallions, his blade was wrapped in a faint layer of cold Qi, which Ye Jun realised was meant to keep the meat's spiritual essence from leaking out at the cut.
