The Chef's Trial

Today, Jiawei has decided that he will end his lazy-fest and come out of his room to check out the hotel and perhaps meet another contestant.

Jiawei remembered hearing about the almost mythical facilities housed within this hotel—proof that the cloud palace truly lived up to its reputation as the paradise everyone spoke of.

One of the first places that came to mind was the communal kitchen, stocked with ingredients from all realms. It is, without a doubt, already bustling with activity since day one, a magnet for participants eager to showcase their skills or scout the competition.

But Jiawei hesitated. That space would likely be teeming with ambitious individuals. And in his experience, ambition doesn't often lend itself to genuine camaraderie. It wasn't that he believed everyone there would be cutthroat, but finding someone who won't be driven by the need to outshine everyone else seemed... unlikely. He is sure kind-hearted people existed among them, but filtering through the crowd to find such a rarity sounds exhausting.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to the second remarkable place he'd heard about: the master library. They said it held all the knowledge one could ever need.

"Smart people know that before practical skill comes knowledge," Jiawei murmured to himself, recalling a lesson from... well, who, exactly, he couldn't place. But it is true. A strong foundation of knowledge often paved the way to mastery.

The master library seemed like the perfect retreat. Sure, intelligent people could be cunning—Jiawei had seen that plenty of times—but in his opinion, they also tend to not be too defensive. If he were to make a connection with someone here, it would likely be in the quiet halls of the library, surrounded by the wisdom of countless generations.

Jiawei stepped into the master library and immediately understand why people spoke of it with such praise and pride. It isn't just a library—it is a place that feels alive with knowledge and wonder.

The air was faintly scented with something delicate, a mix of fresh paper and a floral note that lingered just enough to feel comforting. It was quiet, but not the kind of quiet that pressed on your ears. This was the kind of stillness that made you feel safe, as if the world outside didn't matter once you were inside. Only a sound of pages being flipped can be heard.

The room stretched endlessly, or at least it felt that way, its size so vast it was hard to tell where it ended. The books weren't just books. They glowed softly, their covers shimmering with a translucent light, as if each one held something magical, too precious to remain ordinary. 

The shelves that held them were crafted from wood so polished and rich it seemed to absorb the light around it, with intricate gold inlays that caught your eye. They stand impossibly high, disappearing into a ceiling that wasn't quite solid—soft, drifting clouds hovered above, moving just enough to make you feel like you were in some dreamlike place.

There were cozy nooks tucked into every corner, each with chairs that seemed designed for hours of uninterrupted reading. The cushions looked so inviting Jiawei could already imagine sinking into one, the kind of seat that wouldn't let you go until you finish an entire book. The lighting is perfect—soft and warm, illuminating everything just enough to make every detail clear without being harsh.

Jiawei walked over to one of the empty reading nooks and noticed a small, transparent device with a screen and some writing on it. He sat down and began fiddling with it, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

It turned out that this was a device used to search for books within the library. To Jiawei's surprise, it also provided access to various library amenities—coffee, heavenly pastries, and snacks that seemed as light and airy as the clouds of this realm, perfect for enjoying while lost in a book.

To the side of the nook was a small platform covered by a translucent, shimmery canopy. Jiawei guessed that whatever book or item he selected on the device would appear there, waiting for him to retrieve it.

Jiawei began to browse through the titles available in the library, his fingers swiping across the screen as he read through the endless list. Titles like The Art of Cloud Cuisine, Whispers of the Forgotten Realm, and Ethereal Recipes of the Divine caught his eye, sparking a mixture of excitement and curiosity. But then, his gaze fell on one particular title that made him pause: The Emperor's Guide to the Soul's Diet.

Jiawei's hand hovered for a moment before pressing the Read button beneath the title The Emperor's Guide to the Soul's Diet. In an instant, the book materialized on the empty platform with a soft woosh, as though carried by a gentle, purposeful breeze.

The cover was striking—a grand circular table laden with an assortment of dishes, each rendered in vivid, mouthwatering detail. But what sent a chill down Jiawei's spine was a single dish tucked toward the edge of the spread. Dark, spiced, savory noodles. They looked eerily similar to the shadow-fried noodles he sold every day just to keep himself afloat.

Within the pages of The Emperor's Guide to the Soul's Diet lay stories of the enigmatic figure known as the Emperor of All Living Souls, a man whose true name was Wei Chen.

He was the son of the Grand Emperor, a lineage steeped in power and legacy. Yet, as Jiawei read on, he furrowed his brow. "Strange... some pages seem to be missing," he murmured to himself.

The book bore no page numbers or signs of torn edges, yet the narrative leaped abruptly, leaving gaps that felt almost intentional. One moment, it described Wei Chen's upbringing; the next, it skipped to seemingly random details about his care for the Sky Gardens—a floating patch of fertile cloud where food for the Cloud Palace, which was known as the Cloud Realm back then, was cultivated.

These gardens were a marvel. Using techniques lost to time, the celestial farmers captured dew and sunlight in translucent crystal spheres, creating a near-perfect irrigation system. These spheres radiated a gentle glow, casting light onto the lush vegetation and infusing every plant with an otherworldly vibrance. 

Rows of golden grains swayed in ethereal breezes, while fruits glistened like gemstones, their skins infused with the essence of the skies. Wei Chen had not only overseen their growth but had personally refined methods that ensured the Sky Gardens remained abundant and sustainable for millennia with his power and wisdom.

Pushing aside the mystery of the missing pages, Jiawei pressed on.

Wei Chen, the Emperor of All Living Souls, emerged from the text as a figure of both warmth and compassion.