Ji’an snapped back to reality.

She was surrounded by a horde of screaming ghosts, had a fake-sick assassin screaming in the corner, a jealous servant yelling at her, and a literal Demon Lord treating her life-or-death struggle like a Netflix special!

Something inside Lin Ji’an, a very deep, very tired core of patience, finally snapped.

"I am so tired of you people," Ji’an whispered, her voice eerily calm.

She gripped the handle of her Black Iron Spatula with both hands. She didn’t just channel her Yang Qi; she channeled her sheer, unfiltered frustration with the plot, the characters, and the absolute absurdity of her situation.

The iron spatula began to glow. It wasn’t just hot; it was incandescent. The air around the metal warped and distorted from the sheer thermal output.

Ji’an blurred.

She bypassed the Yin-Demons entirely. She didn’t engage in elegant martial arts.

She charged directly past Chi Yun, slipping under his guard with the slippery agility of a greased pig, and launched herself at the Ghost Cultivator.

"Out of the way, edgelord number two!" Ji’an yelled, shoving Chi Yun aside with her shoulder.

The Ghost Cultivator raised his Soul Banner to block.

SMASH!

Ji’an didn’t strike the banner. She stepped inside the Cultivator’s guard, grabbed the front of his rotting robes with her left hand, and brought the flat, glowing-hot face of the spatula directly across the side of the corpse’s skull.

CRACK!

The impact was devastating. The golden fire exploded, searing away the death Qi. The Cultivator’s jaw unhinged with a sickening snap.

"You want my flesh?!" Ji’an screamed, her eyes manic. Whack! She hit him on the other side of the head. "You want a vessel?!" Whack! She drove the spatula into his ribs.

She treated the centuries-old, terrifying Ghost Cultivator like a particularly tough cut of flank steak that desperately needed tenderizing.

She beat him with a rhythmic, brutal efficiency. Every strike was infused with blazing Yang fire, burning away the dark magic holding the corpse together.

"This is for ruining my sleep!"

Smack!

"This is for making my squad cry!"

Thwack!

"And this is for the fact that I am stuck in a realm surrounded by psychotic, emotionally stunted walking red flags!"

Chi Yun stood frozen, his crescent blades lowered. The elite, cold-blooded demonic servant was staring at the gray-robed cook with genuine, bewildered horror. He looked up at the roof.

Yan Lie had stopped chewing his apple.

The Demon Lord was leaning forward, his glowing red eyes wide, a look of absolute, psychotic delight plastered across his face. He was practically vibrating with amusement.

’Lord Yan is pleased,’ Chi Yun realized, his fists clenching tight. ’He is watching this feral chef with the same look he gets when he finds a rare, violent beast. I must eliminate this boy. He is a distraction.’

The Ghost Cultivator, utterly battered and stripped of his protective aura by the relentless culinary assault, shrieked in agony.

He tried to summon his remaining Yin energy for a self-destruct blast to take Ji’an down with him.

"Ah! Senior Brother! A rock!"

From the sidelines, Wuchen suddenly tripped, flailing wildly. He kicked a large, heavy stone across the courtyard.

It was an "accident." But the stone skipped across the cobblestones and struck the base of the Soul Banner at the exact, microscopic angle required to snap the already weakened wooden staff in half.

The banner broke in half. The trapped souls inside, suddenly freed from their bondage, erupted outward in a blinding flash of spectral light.

They didn’t attack Ji’an; they swarmed the Cultivator, tearing his remaining spiritual energy to shreds in their bid for freedom.

"Nooo!" the Cultivator wailed, as his desiccated body finally crumbled into a pile of gray, lifeless ash.

The oppressive, freezing domain of the village was shattered. The Yin-Demons dissolved into mist, and the wailing of agony finally stopped.

Ji’an stood over the pile of ash, her chest heaving, her spatula cooling rapidly in the damp air.

Silence descended on the courtyard.

From the roof, a slow, deliberate sound broke the quiet.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Yan Lie stood up, tossing the apple core over his shoulder. He applauded, a wide, feral grin on his face. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"Magnificent," Yan Lie’s deep voice boomed. "I haven’t seen a beating that thorough since the Northern Campaigns. You tenderized him to perfection, Grandmother."

Ji’an glared up at the roof, flipping her spatula to point directly at the Demon Lord.

"I told you," Ji’an panted, wiping sweat and ash from her forehead. "I don’t cook trash."

Yan Lie threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing into the approaching dawn.

With a swirl of his dark crimson cloak, he vanished into the shadows, leaving behind the chilling promise of his absolute attention.

Chi Yun didn’t say a word. He simply glared at Ji’an, his gray eyes promising a slow, painful death, before melting into the shadows to follow his master.

"Oh, Senior Brother Lin! You were so amazing!"

Ji’an turned to see Mo Wuchen running toward her, his amber eyes wide and shining with manufactured awe.

He threw his arms around Ji’an’s waist, burying his face in her chest, trembling like a frightened leaf. "I thought we were going to die! You saved me! You are my hero!"

Ji’an stood perfectly still, looking down at the incredibly dangerous, manipulative assassin clinging to her like a limpet.

She looked at the pile of ash, then looked at the spot where the Demon Lord had been.

The first rays of sunlight began to pierce through the fog, signaling the end of the 72-hour trial.

The green jade Lifeline Token at Ji’an’s belt began to glow with a soft, pulsing white light, indicating the exit portals were opening.

Ji’an let out a long, soul-weary sigh.

’I survived the trial,’ Ji’an thought, staring blankly into the distance. ’But I am pretty sure my peaceful life in the kitchen is officially over.’

’Magnificent, my ass!’ Lin Ji’an thought, her teeth grinding together so hard her jaw ached.