Chapter 261 - 161: An Evil Cultivator in a Righteous Sect?

Chapter 261: Chapter 161: An Evil Cultivator in a Righteous Sect?

"Exactly! We come back every year."

"Next time, let’s get all our senior brothers together. We’ll set a time in advance, and no matter how busy we are, we’ll all come see our master."

The disciples all chimed in in agreement.

Kong Qingfeng looked at the group, a gratified expression on his face. He smiled and said, "What’s so interesting about an old man like me? What would make me happiest is seeing you all perfect your craft and teach even more, even better disciples."

Zhou Yan watched the scene, deeply moved. ’The word ’master’ really is short for ’a master for a day is a father for life,’’ he thought.

Kong Qingfeng was three years younger than their Master, Kong Huafeng, and was already eighty years old himself.

Just as he’d said, gatherings like this were numbered.

Zhou Yan figured that the editors at *Sichuan Cuisine* magazine must have considered this when they were discussing topics.

In terms of the Kong Sect’s lineage, Kong Huafeng was the more representative figure, but he had already passed away.

In recent years, Kong Qingfeng had been teaching culinary training classes, cultivating many Chefs in Jiazhou and playing a vital role in carrying on the Kong Sect’s legacy.

Having Kong Qingfeng speak about the Kong Sect’s legacy couldn’t be more fitting.

The exchange session that afternoon had completely changed Zhou Yan’s perceptions and biases.

For the first time, he felt a sense of belonging as a disciple of the Kong Sect.

He could feel his martial uncles teaching him everything they knew, holding nothing back.

This open-hearted generosity—this was true inheritance.

"Second Master Kong, shall we begin then? Perhaps you could start by telling us about your apprenticeship under Grandmaster Kong Rui?" He Zhiyuan suggested.

"My apprenticeship..." Kong Qingfeng’s gaze fell on the lidded teacup on the table. His fingertips tapped lightly against the wood, like the ticking of a second hand, and his eyes gradually lost focus.

After a long silence, he began to speak, his voice low and deep. "It all started back in 1918. I was fourteen. My old man caught tuberculosis, and we sold everything we had for his medicine. Our family was so poor we couldn’t even afford to keep a fire going under the pot. I was just a half-grown boy, nothing but skin and bones. You could’ve used a piece of straw to tie up my pants.

One day, my uncle came back from Rongcheng to visit my father. He gave our family ten silver dollars and asked if I wanted to go with him to learn to be a chef.

I didn’t know what ’learning to be a chef’ meant, so I asked him, ’Uncle, if I learn to be a chef, will I get to eat my fill?’

My uncle said, ’You will. And there’s dried meat, too.’

I hadn’t even smelled meat in half a year. The moment I heard ’dried meat,’ my eyes practically glowed green. I agreed without a second thought.

Our old home was in Lijiang Town. My uncle took me and my twelve-year-old little brother to Jiazhou City, and we started our apprenticeship at the Le Ming Restaurant..."

The conference room was silent, save for the low drone of Kong Qingfeng’s voice and the SCRATCH SCRATCH of Li’s pen on paper.

Zhou Yan listened intently. The "uncle" Kong Qingfeng spoke of had to be the founder of the Kong Sect, Kong Rui.

[DING! Memory Fragment from Kong Qingfeng detected!]

[Entering may trigger a random inheritance reward!]

[Pick up and enter? Yes/No]

Just then, a line of text popped up before Zhou Yan’s eyes.

Zhou Yan froze.

’What? What the hell?’

He glanced left and right.

Everyone was still listening intently to Kong Qingfeng’s story.

After a moment’s hesitation, he made his choice.

’What’s there to be afraid of! I have to see what the true inheritance of the Kong Sect really is!’

"The apprenticeship ceremony was simple, but we still invited several famous Jiazhou chefs of the time to act as witnesses. The master had someone write the apprenticeship pledge for us, and it took my brother and me three days to memorize it. I still remember the last lines: ’I vow to follow my master’s teachings, to learn with a sincere heart, to treat my master as a father, and to never waver in my devotion...’"

Kong Qingfeng’s voice faded in Zhou Yan’s ears, and his vision suddenly went black.

...

His vision gradually cleared, revealing a spacious and brightly lit main hall.

In the center were two reddish-brown Reishi Chairs. A refined middle-aged man in a gray long-robed gown sat on the left, and a middle-aged woman in a cheongsam sat on the right.

Kneeling on the floor were two skinny, half-grown children, holding lidded tea bowls. They were haltingly reciting, "I vow to follow my master’s teachings, to learn with a sincere heart, to treat my master as a father, and to never waver in my devotion. I humbly pray you accept."

They raised their teacups and respectfully offered tea to the middle-aged man.

Standing to the side was a boy with an upright posture, holding a tray. His features were clear and bright, and he bore a slight resemblance to the middle-aged man.

’Is that... the Founder and my Master?’

Zhou Yan looked up, staring in astonishment at the middle-aged man and the young boy beside him.

...

(PS: As for this memory fragment part, no matter how many words it takes, I’ll write and post it all in one go tomorrow. I promise!)

(The inheritance of Sichuan Cuisine is the soul of this book. I thought long and hard about these memory fragments and decided this was the best way to unfold the story—by letting Zhou Yan witness it firsthand. Thank you for your understanding.)