“Another failed attempt,” Mei Lin sighed, staring at the scorched baking sheet before her. The aromatic remnants of burnt immortality peaches wafted through her celestial kitchen, a bitter reminder of her inadequacy as the youngest disciple of the Heavenly Culinary Sect.

Why can’t I get it right? Her thoughts drifted like morning mist. Master Liu makes it look so effortless - the way she channels spiritual energy through the ancient cookware, infusing mundane ingredients with celestial essence.

“Still struggling with the basics, I see.” A familiar voice cut through her reverie. Senior Brother Wei materialized by the marble counter, his silver robes pristine as always.

“I don’t understand,” Mei Lin’s voice quivered. “I follow every step precisely, yet the spiritual energy disperses before binding with the ingredients.”

Wei picked up the baking sheet, examining the blackened surface. “Perhaps that’s exactly your problem. You’re too focused on precision, on following rules. Baking celestial delicacies isn’t about rigid formulas - it’s about feeling the flow of qi, letting it guide your hands.”

Flow. Guide. Like water finding its path downstream. Like thoughts meandering through consciousness…

Her mind wandered to childhood memories: helping grandmother prepare moon cakes, the old woman’s weathered hands moving with natural grace, never measuring, always knowing. Was that what Wei meant?

“But Master Liu always emphasizes proper technique,” Mei Lin protested weakly.

Wei laughed, the sound like wind chimes in a spring breeze. “Technique without spirit is like a sword without a wielder. Watch.”

He placed a fresh baking sheet on the counter. His movements became fluid, almost dance-like, as he prepared a new batch of immortality peaches. Mei Lin observed, transfixed, as spiritual energy swirled around him not in controlled streams but in natural patterns, like leaves in an autumn wind.

The energy… it’s not being forced. It’s being invited.

Acting on instinct, Mei Lin closed her eyes. She felt the familiar pulse of qi within her, but instead of trying to direct it, she simply… let go.

“Now you’re beginning to understand,” Wei’s voice seemed to come from far away.

When she opened her eyes, the kitchen had transformed. Every utensil gleamed with otherworldly light, the ingredients floating gently above their containers. The baking sheet before her hummed with potential.

“I think,” she said slowly, “I’ve been approaching this all wrong. It’s not about mastering the tools - it’s about letting them master me.”

Wei’s expression shifted from satisfaction to surprise as Mei Lin began to bake. Her movements were no longer calculated but intuitive, spiritual energy flowing naturally through her and into the celestial confections taking shape.

The result was beyond anything she’d achieved before - peaches that seemed to capture sunset’s glow, their surface crystalline yet soft.

Master Liu chose that moment to enter. Her stern features registered shock, then understanding, and finally… pride.

“Well done, little one,” she said softly. “You’ve learned what I could never directly teach - that true mastery comes not from controlling, but from becoming one with your art.”

Mei Lin bowed deeply, joy bubbling up inside her. Then she noticed something odd about Wei’s reflection in the polished counter - or rather, his lack of one.

“Senior Brother Wei?” she turned, but he was gone. In his place lay a single silver feather.

Master Liu smiled mysteriously. “Ah, so the Kitchen God himself chose to guide you. Consider yourself blessed, dear disciple.”

Mei Lin picked up the feather, understanding dawning. Sometimes the greatest teachers appear when we least expect them, in forms we never anticipate. She placed it carefully beside her baking sheet - no longer just a tool, but a bridge between mortal craft and celestial art.