---
Lin Feng had three simple goals when he descended from the Spirit Realm:
1. Find a quiet village.
2. Eat breakfast without ghost commentary.
3. Not get roped into any more spirit nonsense.
So naturally, within ten minutes of arriving at Maple Root Village, he was standing in the middle of a pancake-based holy war.
---
An Innocent Breakfast… or So He Thought
The village seemed quaint enough. Birds chirped. Old ladies watered spirit herbs. No flaming ducks, no ghostly chanting—just how Lin Feng liked it.
They entered a small teahouse. Bai Xue ordered rice porridge. Flame Duck asked for "one mildly cursed egg, please." Lin Feng? He wanted pancakes.
"I'll have the village special," he said. "With syrup."
The waiter went pale. "Sir… are you sure?"
"I literally judged ghost dumplings made from soul jelly. Yes. I'm sure."
The waiter hesitated, then whispered, "Very well… but if the sects come, you didn't hear it from me."
---
Enter the Pancake Cults
The moment the plate arrived—four golden pancakes stacked with spirit syrup—an explosion rocked the street outside.
A group of cultivators in orange robes stormed in. "That pancake recipe belongs to the Syrup Sect!"
Behind them, another group in maroon cloaks countered, "Nonsense! That is clearly the sacred stack of the Pan-Fried Path!"
Bai Xue blinked. "Why are there sects for pancakes?"
Flame Duck sipped tea. "Food-based cultivation is more popular than you think."
"Seize the thief who dared consume the Enlightened Syrup Stack!" one cultist shouted.
Lin Feng stood, syrup dripping from his chin. "Guys. It's just breakfast!"
Too late. Pancake war had begun.
---
The Battle of Breakfast Peak
Villagers ran. Tables flipped. Cultivators launched spirit-infused utensils at each other. Syrup flew through the air like a sticky storm of doom.
Lin Feng dodged a flying butter knife. "I just wanted carbs!"
The leader of the Syrup Sect pointed dramatically. "You've consumed the forbidden stack, heretic! Your taste buds are now marked with divine fluffiness!"
"What does that mean?!"
The Pan-Fried Path leader stepped forward, voice calm but intense. "It means... you must now choose a side."
"I'm not joining a breakfast sect!"
"You already have," said Flame Duck solemnly. "Your aura smells like cinnamon now."
---
The Great Debate
Cornered between two cults, Lin Feng raised his hands.
"Okay. Let's solve this like civilized cultivators. A duel? No. A sermon? Definitely no. How about…"
He flipped the last pancake from his plate high into the air.
"…a cook-off."
Gasps echoed.
"If I win," Lin Feng said, "you all go home and stop attacking me over breakfast."
"And if you lose?" Bai Xue whispered.
"I get recruited into another sect, obviously."
Flame Duck nodded. "Classic."
---
Cook-Off Chaos
Within minutes, a sacred stove was summoned. The cultists cheered as Lin Feng approached with only one ingredient: a single, slightly squished peach he found in his sleeve.
The Syrup Sect prepared divine golden batter mixed with starlight essence.
The Pan-Fried Path infused their cakes with fire qi and ancient flour.
Lin Feng? He just mixed what he could find in a villager's kitchen, humming to himself.
"What is your technique called?" asked a young disciple.
Lin Feng blinked. "Uh… Desperate Improvised Peach-Flip."
The villagers took cover.
---
Taste of Peace
The judges—three very tired elders from the Neutral Noodle Monastery—tasted each pancake.
The Syrup Sect's stack shimmered with elegance. The Pan-Fried Path's cakes radiated spicy defiance.
Then came Lin Feng's.
It was lumpy. Slightly burned. And missing one corner.
One elder bit into it… and cried.
"I taste… my childhood."
Another murmured, "The spirit of breakfast harmony…"
The final elder stared at Lin Feng. "You have no technique. No style. And yet… you've reminded us of why breakfast matters."
He slammed a spoon down. "Victory goes to the outsider!"
The cults stared. Then, slowly, they began to bow.
"Pancake Sage," they whispered.
Lin Feng buried his face in his hands. "Not again…"
---
Later That Day…
The village was calm again. Lin Feng sat quietly with Bai Xue and Flame Duck, sipping tea.
"Well," Bai Xue said, "you ended a century-old food feud. That's kind of noble."
Flame Duck added, "Also, you're invited to the next Sect Chef Conference."
"No," Lin Feng said firmly.
Just then, a messenger pigeon landed with a scroll. Lin Feng opened it.
> "To the Pancake Sage:
Your culinary aura has been detected by the Moonlight Tofu Alliance.
Please report to the Golden Griddle Summit for peace negotiations.
P.S. Bring a spatula."
He sighed.
"I am going to scream."
Bai Xue patted his back. "Maybe tomorrow. We've got sect entrance exams ahead. You did say you wanted normal cultivator problems again."
Lin Feng looked toward the mountains, where flags waved and sect banners shimmered in the wind.
"Fine. But if someone throws a dumpling at me, I'm setting something on fire.