After successfully convincing his junior sister to permanently retire from her culinary adventures, Xiang Yu returned to his training ground with renewed purpose. Each swing of his practice knife cut through the air with increasing precision, his movements gradually shedding their awkwardness like a snake molting its old skin. The afternoon sun tracked its slow arc across the azure sky as he repeated the fundamental forms countless times, each repetition building upon the muscle memory of the last.
By evening, when the sun began its descent behind the jagged mountain peaks, painting the clouds in brilliant shades of amber and crimson, Xiang Yu finally allowed himself to pause. His earlier collapse had served as a harsh reminder that unlike true cultivators, he couldn't sustain himself on spiritual energy alone. His mortal body had mundane needs that required attention, regardless of his cultivation ambitions.
As he straightened from his stance, muscles protesting after hours of continuous exertion, an unmistakable odor assaulted his nostrils. Turning his head slightly to investigate the source, Xiang Yu made the unpleasant discovery that the offending smell emanated from none other than himself. After two straight days of intensive training without bathing, he had developed what could only be described as an aura of his own—one that would certainly not enhance any dining experience.
"I can't cook like this," he muttered, grimacing at his own fragrance. "Bath first, then food."
Gathering a fresh set of robes and some bathing herbs from his humble dwelling, Xiang Yu made his way to a secluded river spot nestled deep within the mountain's embrace. The water ran clear and cool, fed by melting snow from higher elevations. As he shed his sweat-soaked garments and waded into the bracing current, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.
The natural bathing herbs he'd collected released their essence when crushed and mixed with water—not the artificial chemical perfumes he'd been accustomed to in his previous life, but something far more pleasant. Their subtle, earthy fragrance seemed to harmonize with the surrounding forest, cleansing both body and spirit without masking his natural scent entirely.
Refreshed and properly attired in clean robes, his damp hair still clinging to his neck, Xiang Yu made his way to the pavilion's communal kitchen. To his surprise, Li Yao had already arrived, another unfortunate wild boar laid out and ready for preparation.
"Brother, do you know how to cook?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement and curiosity.
A confident smile played across his lips as he rolled up his sleeves. "Just wait and see."
Inwardly, he tempered his own expectations. He was no professional chef—his culinary skills were utilitarian at best, developed merely for survival during his former life's bachelor days. Yet compared to whatever eldritch cooking technique his junior sister employed, his basic competence would surely seem like heavenly craftsmanship.
With practiced motions that belied his modest abilities, Xiang Yu selected the most promising portion of meat—a well-marbled section of loin that promised tenderness and flavor when properly prepared. His hands moved with deliberate confidence as he trimmed away excess fat and sinew, preparing the cut with methodical precision.
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