Yu

[Code Name] Yu

[Gender] Male

[Combat Experience] None

[Place of Birth] Yan

[Date of Birth] Dec 12

[Race] Undisclosed

[Height] 160cm

[Infection Status]

Medical tests have confirmed that no infection is present.

[Physical Strength] Standard

[Mobility] Excellent

[Physical Resilience] Standard

[Tactical Acumen] Normal

[Combat Skill] Normal

[Originium Arts Assimilation] Flawed

Yu is an experienced chef from Yan who is currently visiting friends and family at Rhodes Island, offering culinary support during his stay.

Imaging tests reveal clear, normal outlines of internal organs, and no abnormal shadows have been detected. Originium granules have not been detected in the circulatory system and there is no sign of infection. At this time, this operator is believed to be uninfected.

[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 0%

[Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.00u/L

[Classified Log]

For this particular family, our examinations are not so much health checkups as the curious medical staff crowding around the instruments to see what kind of absurd data is being recorded this time.

Everything went smoothly, and the young man, who must be many times my age, was very cooperative. Once we were done, he gave each of us a bun with a sweet filling. None of us had tried it before, but when I bit into the bun and my tongue touched the black sesame filling, I was reminded of my childhood spent honey-hunting, when the sweet taste of honey numbed the pain of the bee-stings...

—Anonymous Medic

Soon after Yu arrived at Rhodes Island, Nian went into the kitchen and gave the perfectly functional facilities a complete makeover before dragging her little brother in.

Later that day, as Nian was digging into a spicy hotpot, she was joined by the typically reclusive Dusk, and Yu prepared several small dishes for her. Shu, Chongyue, and Ling soon joined the party, and all the family members on Rhodes Island came together to enjoy a fine meal at the same table—a sight that made the Yanese operators tasked with monitoring them quite nervous.

When they were done, some of them disappeared immediately, while the rest cleaned up, did the dishes, and apologized to the logistics operator on duty, drawing this little event to a close. The logistics operator swallowed his complaints at the sight of the bags of rice Yu offered him, and the bowl of rice balls in sweet wine soup on the table.

He did not realize that doing so even once would make it that much harder to refuse Yu in the future.

The next day, Yu showed up in the kitchen again as though he were meant to be there, showing off his Yanese cooking.

By day three, he started walking around while cooking, observing how others cooked.

By day four, he started arguing with people over whether a dish needed more scallions or more salt.

By day five, he could be seen engaging the other cooks in shouting matches that were only a little less heated than his cooking wok.

In just a few days, he had blended in with the rest of the kitchen. Although the food served at the cafeteria was not affected, none involved will forget the chaos in the kitchen at the time. However, the operator who was supposed to be in charge seemed to have little interest in reigning things in, largely because of the osmanthus cake he was munching on.

'Mm... jushleddembee... mm,' he said.

After a rather hectic adjustment period, the 'Young Chef' has become a constant presence in the kitchen. In addition to Yanese cuisine, he is also making forays into other areas, trying his hand at baking bread, searing steaks, and rolling sushi, which he said was important for satisfying the palates of Rhodes Island's diverse population.

'Is that why you stole the pizza and custard tarts?'

'Hey, how am I supposed to make them if I haven't tried them before?'

A package from Baizao lay before Yu. At first, he took it into the kitchen thinking it was the ingredients he had procured from Yan, only to hurry back to his room with it after opening it up.

At the top of the package was a letter from Jiang, the only employee of Savors at Yu's, and the restaurant's acting chef and manager in Yu's absence. The usual complaints: how hard it is running a tiny operation, how tight the budget is, and imploring Yu to return. He made a mental note to tell Jiang to be more creative about his pleas the next time he is back in Baizao.

At the end of the letter, however, Jiang mentioned something else: An old ledger hidden in a space in the walls, which the workers discovered while they were renovating the kitchen. Jiang made a copy and sent the original to Yu, per usual practice.

Yu silently praised Jiang for being on top of things, and put the letter aside to look at the ledger, which was pitch-black from years of being smoked. He had tucked it away because it was practically being marinated, only to forget about it when he left.

Being a tiny operation, it was also Yu's job to keep track of transactions, something that became a habit over time. He wiped the soot off the cover and flipped it open.

It was a record of daily income and expenses. There was a mark next to outstanding accounts, which are checked off as they are paid.

Most of the time, the outstanding accounts were for tiny sums—patrons who had forgotten their wallets. The next time they came back, be it hours or days later, they would either place the money they owed on the table, or discreetly pass it to the waiter along with the bill for the current meal, along with a little gesture to keep it quiet.

A few pages later were the banquets held over the course of a year, from weddings to funerals, to celebrations for promotions or winning competitions, ranging anywhere from a few tables to a few dozen. These are expensive affairs, and Yu's typical practice is to ask only for necessary expenses to be paid up front; the rest can be paid in due course, as the customer's circumstances permit. In cases of hardship, Yu has even footed the up-front bill, allowing the banquet to go ahead first, and the debt paid later. Many customers choose to pay their debts in kind, be it in the form of ingredients, kitchen utensils, furnishing, or advertising. If he really dug into things, he might very well find that he is the one who owes a favor now.

Yu flipped through a few more pages.

So many people come and go. Some debts are settled, some are not. Ji had criticized his lackadaisical attitude towards bad debts, when profits were slim to begin with. 'This was why the restaurant remains so tiny and unknown, despite being around for so long,' he said.

Well, Yu was a chef, not a businessman. He flipped through the ledger, checked off a few old accounts based on the note that Jiang had sent along as well, and put it down next to a notebook with the Rhodes Island logo on the cover.

The connections between people were not measured in numbers, after all.

For most families, it would be perfectly normal for siblings to run into each other and sit down for dinner. Yu would love to have this kind of normalcy, but could hardly help it, being what he is.

Therefore, he does his best whenever his siblings come to Baizao for whatever reason, whether they are taking up a new position, making a report to the Sui Regulator, or simply passing through.

Shu's tastes are light and simple. She always brings plenty of rice, sometimes even insisting on cooking for her little brother herself. White rice with steamed meat and vegetables—a simple meal that brings out the natural flavor of the ingredients.

Ji is always about efficiency. If he is just passing by, he would be content with a simple and inexpensive meal. If he wants to sit down for a full course, though, one would be in for a long day, forced to listen to him review each and every dish, one by one. On the other hand, when he does, there will be no need to worry about rent for the month—it is Ji who owns the building, after all.

Nian is the biggest eater of the bunch, and the place is liveliest when she is there. One could smell her favorite hotpot from a hundred meters away, and she likes to invite the other patrons to join her, even Sui Regulator agents. Yu encourages those who cannot handle spicy food to decline the offer—he has seen such patrons carried out on stretchers after sampling Nian's hotpot.

Dusk is always picky, right down to the timing of the meal. Take too long, and she is no longer in the mood when it is served. Fortunately, Yu knows a trick: a particular combination of fine appetizers, fruits, and desserts that even the mercurial Dusk is always in the mood for, though this will not stop her from complaining.

Ling's visits are usually about booze. A warm pot of wine, a plate of appetizers, let her drink to her heart's delight, and she's gone before you know it.

One would imagine Chongyue preferring the stockbeast meat of the north, given that he has spent most of his life guarding the borders, but he always asks Yu to serve him something he has never tasted before. From north to south, from east to west, all that flies, all that walks, all that swims, and all that grows from the ground—Yu must constantly try out new ingredients and new cooking methods just to satisfy his oldest brother. It was for Chongyue that Yu made his first pizza and Siracusan dumplings.

The one who tends to the gardens outside Baizao likes his dishes matched in complementary manner. Occasionally, he will bring delicacies from afar and ask Yu to find a match. The results may be a pleasant surprise even to Yu himself.

The musician is easy to tend to: she asks for the menu and orders from it like anybody else, sparing Yu from needing to think about it. Once she has finished the meal, however, she always takes out her instrument and starts singing, turning the restaurant into an impromptu opera house, with more patrons listening than eating.

...As for Wang, all Yu remembers is that he had the same tastes as the sister who was once at the academy. Neither were picky: serve the normal four dishes plus soup, and they were perfectly content. But Yu's memory grows fuzzy... Yu was always happy eating with her. She was never picky, and always complimentary, every comment highlighting Yu's thoughts as he was cooking the dish. But Wang... He always ate in silence.

Whenever the siblings leave, a few plain-clothes patrons would write something down in their notebooks, then pay the bill and follow them out the door. They are undoubtedly here on official business, but they are also paying customers, and he never confronts them. It is just like their family, whose powers keep the officials of the imperial court up at night. But here at the restaurant, sitting at the table, they are no different from any other family getting together for a meal.

Late at night, when the restaurant is closed, Yu and Jiang have supper together before the stove using whatever ingredients are left, wash the dishes, and call it a day. He knows what Jiang likes, so their supper is always something that he does. One day, as they were having noodles in the kitchen, Jiang suddenly asked Yu what he liked to eat. Yu takes in a mouthful of noodles and answers without giving it much thought:

'Everything. Can't be a cook if you don't like to eat, after all.'

Some time has passed since the first piece of selfhood fell.

Fragments fall off the source and find new life on this land.

It continues to dream in Its eternal slumber.

Ages pass, and the fury has gone to rest with sleep. The proxy born carrying Its most violent wish has devoted himself to the path of martial arts and cut off his connection with It.

It does not understand.

Why do the consciousnesses born of It now defy It?

Each fragment's identity has been shaped by their contact with mankind. They have become like mankind.

It does not understand.

They have joined forces to break free of Its influence, just as the mortals who received Its blessings did centuries ago.

It does not understand.

I do not understand. That is why I must seek, try, experiment. That is the first step to understanding.

Have I said this before? Turn one's eyes towards mankind, and what one sees is a ball of fire.

I cannot let fear stay my steps. Look. People gather around a fire, and place the prey they hunted above it.

Why do they do that? But I smell a pleasant aroma.

I shall understand.

I will begin with fire, which I am most curious about, and which I fear the most.

Pick up firewood and place it in a pile. I have lit my own fire. Put a skewer through the meat, and roast it on the fire. People come to me, drawn by the scent, and sit by my side. They have brought food with them. We share food with each other. It is of a different taste. The more I share, the more I sense the difference. And so, I became a chef—it is what they call those who make a living through cooking. I want to know all the tastes of that past, and what these tastes can bring others.

Cooking does not necessarily require a stove. A pot and a fire is all it takes. But people come back when there is a stove, and connections are built when people come back.

Where there is fire, there is smoke. Those who see the smoke and fire know that there is food here. Some eat here all their lives; others buy a snack once and never return. Even if everything outside is covered in ice and snow, they feel less cold once they sit down here and have something hot to eat. Perhaps they will remember the warmth of the fire and the flavor that filled their mouths, and come back to this place again.

I have seen people of all kinds and made cuisine of all kinds. The more I made, the less I understood, and the less I cared. I wanted an answer, but it was a question without one. Seek not perfection; joy lies the mundane journey of everyday life.

It seems I have no use for my powers. They should be returned to Me. Sleepy-head needs this 'vitality' more than I do. There are worse things than having this fire that never goes out light the room and warm my bed, but I cannot return my meaning so easily.

That little speck of doubt, that curiosity that created the future for mankind and sowed the seeds of suffering for myself, needs to be put back in the wok and fried again.

A beast glints jet as glaze, meal made—

The engraver put down his chisel after the first few words.

The inscriptions on the other eleven steles were written by him. He had lived a long life and seen the living myths, and should have had no difficulty writing the dedications.

But in Yu's case...

He wiped his chisel on his sleeves a few times, and finally decided to erase the words he had carved.

No one had seen Yu's Sui form.

But the first eleven used the same format. Surely the twelfth... no!

Form and order had been broken, like a candle in the middle of an incense burner, a most jarring sight.

He could imagine Yu's form, based on his hair, arms, and tail, but the rest...

The engraver fiddled with his beard, but could not come up with a good way to summarize Yu's deeds.

The rest of the family have the ability to move mountains and seas. He couldn't very well write 'It cooks real good' for this one!

Even the legend that Yu had cooked for the True Lung seemed far-fetched and unsophisticated compared to the deeds of the other eleven. But if one were to truly record Yu's deeds, one would also find them too numerous to be listed on one little stele.

He had been working on this for months already. The Sui Regulator was pressing him for updates every two or three days. If he cannot finish the stele by the end of the month... A penalty from the Sui Regulator is one thing. His fame, his reputation as a master poet, which he had spent a century building, would be ruined.

Sigh...

'How's the stele going, old man?' The young chef picked a most inopportune time to show up. 'So much easier than my siblings, isn't it?'

'Not in a million years!'