The [Lv.3 Flying Courtyard Carriage] glided smoothly across the upper cloud layer of the Cloud-Abyss. Below the Star-Iron keel, a bottomless sea of dark gray mist churned and howled, its wind-blades breaking harmlessly against the courtyard’s warm golden shield.
Up on the wrap-around wooden porch, however, the air smelled of boiling beef tallow, toasted sesame, and crushed garlic.
Gu Changsheng sat comfortably on a low rattan chair at the head of the brass table. Both sides of the [Ever-Boiling Copper Hotpot] were bubbling away—crimson chili oil rolling on the left, milky hundred-herb bone broth steaming on the right.
Ten-year-old Gu Nian stood beside his father’s elbow, wearing his bright yellow bunny apron and holding a pair of long bamboo serving chopsticks. “Dad, the red broth is at a full boil. Should I put the mutton rolls in now?”
“Count to seven after they hit the oil, Nian’er,” Gu Changsheng said, taking a slow sip of roasted barley tea. “Seven seconds keeps the spirit-mutton tender. Eight seconds and your Grandpa Yao starts crying about ruined texture.”
“Seven and a half seconds is the true alchemical peak!” Grandpa Yao shouted from the kitchen window. His Rank 4 Wood-Lotus Chef Body gleaming with a faint green sheen as he chopped green onions at lightning speed.
