Dao of Cooking

The wind was gentle, the air silent and peaceful. He couldn’t hear the growling of the monsters anymore, nor could he feel the rotten stench burning through his nose. It felt as though an invisible current had pulled them away from that world and pushed them gently toward another one. Snake closed his eyes as he let the wind move them through the dark tunnel, walls flashing past them.

At first, panic grabbed at his core when the wall caved in. Before he could react, a sudden force sucked them both inside the mountain, hurtling them up toward somewhere beyond their reach. He ducked and shielded his face with both arms, fearing that a wrong turn might have him crash into solid stone.

But though they came close, that invisible force somehow managed to ease them back onto the right path, where they coursed like water in a field canal through the inner parts of the mountain. Everything had a different glint about it here. Everything felt… safe.

He let his feet dangle beneath him as he squinted up at the tunnel. It seemed endless, but bright light glistened somewhere above. He then looked back over his shoulder, smiling when he saw Stone’s eyes slowly open. He was alive.

Wood cracked in the palm of his hand. He raised the little flag high and checked the strange character written upon it. It was a number.

One hundred eight.

His father had once told him that any man who didn’t know how to read or write was looking for trouble. Especially if you were a farmer. "This business is more about selling than growing seed," he’d say, "and you have to know your math to get a good deal for your hard work."

Snake had always been good with numbers, but he didn’t know what to make of this one. His hand had brushed against the hard cloth when he was pushed back by that green barrier. It was hidden in the face of the wall, planted right beyond a big stone that must’ve crumbled when the cave started shaking.

A flag deep into the stone.

It made him curious.

Upwards, through the tunnel, the air whistling by his ears. He couldn’t feel the weight of his body, and for a second, he’d even forgotten the pain gnawing at his arms. He was sore through and through, and this wind was the best medicine he could’ve ever asked for.

Then, slowly, a wrinkled, rotten face flashed in the dark of his lids. That old man was trouble, and now Big Brother Lei and Big Brother Lou were facing him. A cook and a butcher. Strong, true, but still simple mortals against a rotten beast of a man. His heart clenched in worry.

He could only hope this same wind could find its way to them.

The light flashing at the end of the tunnel grew harsh and bright, so much that Snake had to raise his arm to shade his eyes. Then came the chirping of birds. A loud, clear noise that seemed anything but ordinary. The chirping of the birds, the song of the breeze, and the bright light wrapping gently around him.

When he blinked, a sight unlike any other welcomed him. Bright, green bamboo stalks swayed lazily in the wind, surrounded by towering cedar trees with leaves as bright as the sun burning high in the sky. Around the branches, birds chirped loudly against each other. It was a contest, Snake thought, to see who had the strongest voice. The white-feathered ones were winning. Theirs was a dinning, melodic voice that spoke of strength.

“Where are we?” Stone muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He didn’t look like he’d been through a twisted hell. Rather, it felt as though he was waking up from a long slumber.

Snake couldn’t help the wide smile settling on his lips. “This must be Heaven.”

“Are we dead?” Stone frowned across the bright scene.

Snake looked back to the tunnel they came from. The hole in the ground closed slowly as the earth stitched itself back together. Soon, it was gone, and grass patched the tiny wound.

“Only one way to find out,” he said, peering at the bamboo stalks.

They strolled between the long grass, sunlight warm and easy on Snake’s skin. Under the shade of cedar trees stood a serene lake. It was half-hidden by the bamboo stalks surrounding it, but Snake could see a cottage there, a simple, wooden structure with birds perched on its roof.

Somebody lived in that cottage by the wet, white robe hanging on the side of it, left there to dry. They were not alone in this paradise.

Soon, the lake came into view, making Snake blink round at it. A golden gate arced over from its pristine surface, riddled with ancient characters and inlaid with jade. It was the first time he’d seen something this perfect. Green and white jade, rounded into precious jewels, cocked into the arcing gate under which scores of fish swam peacefully.

Right then, a fish broke off from the others, gained speed, and leaped high into the sky, reaching for the gate. Snake thought it would pass over it with ease. But just when it was halfway, the brown-scaled fish suddenly slowed down, as if weighed upon by an invisible power. It started flailing, unwilling to give up, but in the end, it splashed back into the lake, unable to jump over the golden gate.

The lake’s peace was disturbed by the sudden splash, sending shimmering drops of water all around it. Soon, peace was restored and everything went back to normal.

It was then that Snake saw another fish swimming on the other side of the gate. Its golden scales shone brighter than the precious jade jewels on the gate, and it was mighty and imposing. Like a true emperor, it almost seemed to look down upon the others who were shackled to the other side of the gate, stealing envious glances at it.

Snake thought it looked alone. All by itself, it had claimed the other half of the lake, yet it took only a small part of it. And whenever a brown fish jumped high into the sky, Snake could see that golden fish raising its head and staring at the gallant effort, eyes glinting with hope.

But that hope was broken over and over again when the brown fish fell back into the lake.

“The price of a thousand years spent in seclusion,” said a voice, an old voice easing into Snake’s ears, gentle like the morning breeze. “The carp leaps over the dragon gate, dreaming of becoming a dragon, unaware of the price it has to pay. How unfortunate its fate, to stand atop the peak, all mighty and strong, yet to remain alone all throughout eternity. How unfortunate indeed, but such is life.”

Snake raised an eyebrow when they strolled into the backyard and saw an old man sitting cross-legged by the lake, staring sadly toward that golden fish. He had long, gray hair, braided and left dangling over his back, and a similarly colored long beard fluttered in the wind. He stroked it gently before shaking his head and giving them a curious look.

“Tell me, young ones. Would you be willing to pay the price of eternal solitude if it grants you the power to look down upon the world? Would you have taken the chance to be the dragon amongst men, even if it cost you your long past?”

“Be the dragon amongst men?” Stone said, frowning in thought. “I—“

“I would,” Snake answered without hesitation. “If it means I can protect the ones I love, I would’ve paid the price.”

“Selfless and bold,” the old man said, nodding at Snake. He then slowly rose to his feet and smoothed the side of his white robe before turning to them.

Snake froze. There was a web of green veins throbbing on the other side of the old man’s face, slithering down through his neck and under that white robe. The old man seemed unaware, though, or perhaps uncaring of that fact. He smiled gently and spoke with a mellow voice, “Come, then, you seem to have a story to tell.”

Snake shared a look with Stone, and looked back to the way they came. Beyond the long grass, above the bamboo stalks, stretched the sky, endless and clear. He could see the promise of distant lands from here, and even mountains, small ones that seemed like dots in the distance.

They were on top of a mountain, high and close to the clouds.

The old man guided them through the backyard, careful not to disturb the lake. He had them sit before the cottage, at a wooden table, and served them some tea. When Snake took a whiff of the red tea, he felt something stir in his mind. All the worry clouding his thoughts suddenly felt like they weren’t his own.

“That flag looks rather interesting,” the old man said once he sat across from them, that same smile playing on his lips. “Looks like that old friend of mine hadn’t done a good job of hiding those. I need to replace it.”

“This flag?” Snake glanced at the flag, then back at the old man, confused. “It was well hidden, planted inside the stone walls, but they crumbled because of that Elder Huang.”

“That’s how you two found it, then, eh? Such coincidence,” the old man said, stroking his beard. “Now, tell me. What made you two little carps step into my mountain? I can tell that you weren’t out for a stroll, were you?”

“No, we weren’t,” Snake said, shaking his head. “We were…”

“Kidnapped,” Stone said with his teeth clenched.

And so they told their story, and the old man listened without interrupting them. Snake didn’t know why, but he hadn’t felt a need to hide anything from him. He told him about the cultivator attack that had happened some weeks ago, and how, after that, everything changed, and Big Brother Lei took them into his care.

There were rotten beasts living under the mountain, Snake told the old man. Rotten beasts and a wrinkled man who seemed like a walking corpse. He had the voice of a snake, and he spoke of fate. And now, his Big Brother Lei and Big Brother Lou were trapped with him between the crumbling walls.

The old man listened eagerly, as if he found every word fascinating. He would shake his head, click his tongue, drum his fingers on the table, or scowl at times when Snake mentioned that rotten man. Stone would chime in whenever Snake got caught up with the fury burning in his heart, and go over the details as though he was retelling a nightmare.

When they finished, Snake found his jaw stinging with pain from how hard he had clenched his teeth. His Little Brother was no different, his face flushed with anger. But the old man waved a hand toward them, spreading a much-needed ease into their hearts that somehow relieved them.

“And so they came and reached the inner parts of the wide world,” he muttered in thought. “I suppose you can’t delay the inevitable. Tell me more about this Big Brother of yours. You’ve told me his dishes were heavenly. How so?”

Snake and Stone shared a glance before they burst into laughter. “Because he’s the Heavenly Cook!” they said at the same time.

“After eating that fried rice, I managed to lift a big rock,” Stone said a moment later, greatly proud of himself. “Bigger than the ones I’ve tried to lift before.”

“You fool of a rock.” Snake rolled his eyes at him before turning to the old man. “But he’s right. Big Brother Lei’s dishes are… different. And he knows how to use that ladle. It’s too heavy, and it nearly broke a thug’s nose that time.”

“Mm,” the old man said, smiling at them. “And now they’re under this mountain with that man, is that so?”

Snake nodded right away, grimacing. “He and Big Brother Lou got trapped on the other side of the barrier.”

“From what you told me, this Big Brother of yours seems like a special one. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” the old man said, rising from the table.

Snake clenched his fists as he glanced at the man. “Can’t you do anything to help them?”

“Me?” The old man seemed amused at the words, pointing a finger to his face.

“Yes, you!” Stone pressed on. “You look strong!”

A sigh escaped his lips as the old man shook his head. “I’m afraid my time has passed, young ones. The world beyond this peak knows this old man no longer. It’s forbidden for me to break past my shackles.”

Snake bit his lower lip when the old man turned his back and trudged toward the cottage. He couldn’t help the weakness weighing him down, like a mountain of rock trying to press him flat to the ground. He was about to walk away when his eyes strayed to his own hands.

They were pure and smooth, clean of rot and pus. There was no blood left inside his nails. Not only that, he was clad in a white robe, spotless like the clear sky. Taking a step back, he saw that his Little Brother was the same. He seemed as though bathed and cleaned by deft hands, like that time when Aunt Meilin prepared them for the spring festival.

“How?” they muttered at the same time.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave this old cage of mine,” came the old man’s voice as he turned and glanced gently at them. Two copper rings flashed in the palm of his hand, looking old and worn. “But perhaps you can, eh, young ones? Perhaps I can teach some manners to those old foes of mine, let them once again feel the wrath of this Old Grim even though I’m bound to this mere patch of earth. What do you say? Would you be willing to jump over that gate with the help of this old man, knowing how steep the price you would have to pay?”

Snake and Stone looked at each other and nodded without hesitation.