"You are welcome, Ji'an!" Zechuan beamed, effortlessly picking the four-hundred-pound iron wok back up. "Shall we continue? I am becoming quite hungry. Do you think we could find a beast that tastes like chicken?"
"Yeah," Ji'an murmured, a soft, reluctant, deeply fond smile finally breaking through her tough exterior. "Yeah. I'll find you a chicken. Let's go."
The first day of the tournament passed in a blur of erratic fog movements, frantic beast encounters, and the bizarre, burgeoning camaraderie between a cynical, transmigrated chef and a hopelessly overpowered, cute puppy-brained abyssal prodigy.
As they moved through the realm, Ji'an actively dropped her villainous act.
She stopped making unreasonable demands.
When Zechuan offered to carry her gear, she let him, but she made sure to point out the poisonous plants so he wouldn't try to eat them.
