Chapter 2 — ILK Chapter 2

Pork Cutlet, Yangchun Noodles, and a Mixed Cocktail

The understanding of fine cuisine in this Interstellar world was truly impoverished. Sang Ye did not intend to serve "grand dishes" that were time-consuming and difficult to appreciate, such as Cabbage in Consommé. Such dishes required a certain level of culinary literacy to savor their subtle brilliance. Nor did she intend to make anything requiring hours of fermentation or refrigeration—her time was extremely limited.

Sang Ye prepared to give the Emperor a direct, effective sensory shock.

She would serve a sweet, spicy, and fragrant side dish: Fried Pork Cutlet, paired with a refreshing staple: Yangchun Noodles.

Most importantly, she wanted the Emperor to feel the mental energy emanating from the ingredients. This was Sang Ye’s ultimate goal and the only leverage she currently held.

From her storage ring, Sang Ye carefully selected a thick piece of pork tenderloin. This came from a ten-month-old spiritual pig in her Master's pocket dimension. It had been the sturdiest of its litter and nourished by her Master's spiritual power; just taking it out released a dense wave of mental energy. The reason the cultivation world treated Shifang Grotto’s food as high-grade elixir was entirely due to the quality of their raw materials.

Since the spiritual pigs ran free in the pocket dimension, the connective tissue was perfectly integrated into the meat. The texture was firm, saving her the trouble of tenderizing it.

Sang Ye finely minced ginger, onion, and garlic, mixing them with a special cooking wine. She poured this over the tenderloin, along with salt water, black peppercorns, and apple puree. She continuously massaged the marinade into the muscle fibers, then let it sit.

Ideally, it would marinate overnight to ensure full flavor, but she didn't have that luxury.

Next, she pulled out a few white steamed buns, peeled off the smooth outer skin, and crushed the insides into fine breadcrumbs. She also separated the yolks of ten Fusang eggs.

She poured a generous amount of oil into a wok. Unfamiliar with the setup, she nearly failed to ignite the burner. Once small bubbles appeared in the oil, she threw in a piece of fat to fry; this made the resulting oil even more fragrant.

The stoves of the Interstellar Era were quite handy, allowing for easy heat control, but the knives were terrible. Sang Ye grumbled inwardly; if she got the chance later, she would forge her own set. A professional chef always had personalized tools tailored to the width of their palm and the length of their fingers. They didn't use a single chipped blade for every delicate task like this place did.

This lack of variety was simply due to a lack of demand. With no culinary culture, there was no drive for innovation. The tools Sang Ye saw were no different from those of several centuries ago, save for the power source.

Sang Ye glanced toward the door. The four men only peeked in occasionally to ensure she was still there before ignoring her again.

Following the order of starch, egg wash, and bun crumbs, she coated the entire tenderloin and lowered it into the hot oil.

With a loud sizzle, the aroma of the pork cutlet erupted alongside the splattering oil. Fried scents were the most distinct and loud. Following the fragrance was the inherent mental energy of the ingredients, which instantly filled the entire room.

The people outside were startled by the sound. Whether Sentinel or Guide, they were all exceptionally sensitive to mental energy.

"What's going on?" The Head Chef was the first to lose his composure and rushed inside.

External release of mental energy usually only occurred during a "group channeling," but that was an immense drain on a Guide. Only S-rank Guides or above could support a group session. The last time one occurred was when the Emperor personally treated the returning Expeditionary Force.

As Sang Ye’s direct superior, Su Mo knew her rank better than anyone. As a B-rank Guide, Sang Ye could channel a maximum of seven or eight low-level Sentinels a day; a group release was far beyond her current level.

Yet the mental energy flooding the kitchen was undeniable. Not just him, but the Sentinel guards who had escorted her felt a surge of vitality upon contact with the energy.

Beyond the rich mental energy, a strange, mouth-watering aroma permeated the kitchen, triggering their primal instincts.

The Head Chef took a deep breath. Even though Interstellar cuisine was long dead, he felt that since he held the title of Head Chef, he should occasionally study it. However, the ancient recipes he found on the Star-Net didn't suit modern ingredients. The results were usually indescribable—smelling like the stagnant stench of a Sentinel's festering wound on a rainy day.

But in Sang Ye’s hands, the food had found a different kind of "vitality."

Su Mo and the Head Chef looked at Sang Ye with complex expressions, each calculating their own thoughts.

Sang Ye acted as if she noticed nothing, focusing solely on the work at hand.

Frying a thick cutlet required precise temperature control. It was easy to burn the outside while the inside remained raw. Once the exterior turned golden, the temperature had to be lowered immediately.

Since Sang Ye wasn't familiar with the equipment and didn't know how long it would take for the oil to cool, she chose a different method.

With lightning speed, she fished out the cutlet. Once the surface temperature dropped, she sliced it into pieces of nearly identical thickness. The sliced meat showed a hint of fresh pinkness, with steam billowing out. She then coated them in the remaining egg wash and returned them to the wok for a second fry.

The oil crackled again, and the fragrance intensified.

Rather than making a complex sauce, Sang Ye decided to make a simple tomato paste, as she had found a tomato-like species in the warehouse.

She blanched five tomatoes, scored the skins with a cross, crushed them into a pulp, and added them to a pot with rock sugar. She stirred constantly over low heat until it became a thick, viscous liquid. A simple ketchup was born; by balancing the sugar and tomato, she achieved a perfect sweet and sour profile.

The ketchup perfectly cut through the greasiness of the pork, making it taste light and refined.

The back kitchen where Sang Ye worked was specifically for the Imperial family. The palace staff and guards were fed by the "Outer Kitchen" located in front. It was currently evening—a shift-change period. The quality of nutrient solutions provided by the palace was superior to the commercial market, so many people waited for the Outer Kitchen's evening service.

The aroma of the fried pork was too dominant. As soon as the back kitchen door opened, the scent drifted through the air and spread to the Outer Kitchen.

A commotion soon broke out. Some loud-voiced individuals began shouting: "What is the back kitchen doing? Why does it smell so good?"

If it weren't for the rules forbidding unauthorized personnel from entering, the crowd likely would have swarmed in already.

Sang Ye ignored the chaos and focused on the Yangchun Noodles.

She had secretly pulled a soup base from her storage ring. This was a rich broth simmered from ten-year-old spiritual pheasants and pig bones raised near the spiritual veins of Shifang Grotto, seasoned with white fish, mushrooms, and shrimp roe.

The simmering of the broth was meticulous; even the vessels were made of spiritual vein pottery to lock in the energy. During the process, Fire-element disciples had to watch the flame constantly, simmering it slowly so it boiled without overflowing. Eventually, the bones became soft enough to crumble, and the solids were strained out. All the spiritual energy was concentrated in the broth.

The soup base was stored inside a piece of glowing, translucent jade marrow.

Outsiders often criticized Shifang Grotto for using spiritual tools to store food just to satisfy their palates, calling it a "waste of god's gifts." But only Shifang Grotto disciples knew that this was the only way to preserve the original flavor and spiritual essence of the ingredients.

She added some water to the broth and heated it, throwing in a handful of thin noodles. This allowed the noodles to soak up the richness of the high broth.

A spoonful of lard, a spoonful of sesame oil, a dash of chopped green onions, and a splash of light salt soy sauce—once the broth was poured over, the aroma was instantaneous.

Sang Ye lifted the noodles out, swirling them into the broth. Green onions, yellow oil, and white soup—the sight alone was enough to stir the appetite.

With that, the simple main course and staple were ready.

Sang Ye had originally planned to pair it with wine, but after tasting the local alcohol, she found it bitter and strange-tasting.

Seeing how enthusiastically they drank earlier, she had assumed there was at least one palatable thing in this era. Apparently, she had expected too much.

Thinking of the raw materials in the warehouse, she took out a high-proof spirit from her storage ring. This was a liquor fermented from rye and potatoes by her Senior Sister in her spare time. It tasted as sharp as an arctic wind, stinging the throat like ice crystals.

She added ice, the liquor, and a small splash of milk, then topped it off with freshly squeezed grape juice to mellow the bite. A simple dinner drink was complete.

Su Mo and the others looked at her with expressions that felt like silent interrogations. Su Mo was especially conflicted; as her direct superior, he had no idea she possessed such skills, let alone that she could release mental energy externally.

The Outer Kitchen's Head Chef, who had followed the scent, didn't have such complex thoughts. Despite the harsh Interstellar environment, he had managed to keep himself plump. He was now staring fixedly at the leftover broth: "It smells so good... can I have what's left?"

Not everyone working in the palace was a Guide or Sentinel. According to employment protection laws, over 80% of non-military jobs had to be given to "Ordinaries” to prevent the gifted from monopolizing the labor market.

The Outer Head Chef was an Ordinary. He couldn't feel the mental energy filling the room; he only saw the delicacies he hadn't encountered since birth.

Sang Ye paused, feeling a brief flash of pity for them. But it vanished quickly—she was the one on death row; who could be more pitiable than her?

"When I come back, I'll make you a bowl," she promised.

The Emperor of the Gamma Empire, Lin Shuangxu, was a Guide and one of the Empire's five current S-ranks.

Her perception of mental energy far exceeded anyone else in the palace. The moment Sang Ye pulled out the pork tenderloin, she captured that sliver of leaking energy. She paused her pen while reviewing official documents.

An overflow of mental energy in a Guide meant group channeling, but in a Sentinel, it meant a riot.

However, this strand of energy was incredibly stable, lacking any of the violent frenzy she was familiar with.

She remembered her attendant's report today: the Guide who had maliciously caused the deaths of several Sentinels wanted to cook her dinner. It seemed some variable had shifted.

Originally, she had agreed out of mere curiosity toward such a bizarre request. But now, she felt this Guide might bring her a massive surprise.