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墨書 Inktalez
The sky was overcast, thick clouds looming as if ready to pour down at any moment.
Shi Mo got up early in the morning, gritting his teeth as he spent a small fortune on a taxi to the job market. The market was adjacent to a morning market, with vendors occupying most of the space, leaving only a narrow passage along the wall for job seekers. Recruiters and applicants mingled together, creating a scene so crowded that even bicycles couldn't pass through.
He was dropped off at Gate One. Initially thinking the market wasn't large, he was taken aback when he asked for the location of Gate Three. He stood at the northernmost end of the market while Gate Three was at the southernmost end; to get there, he had to traverse the entire market. Fortunately, the early autumn morning wasn't cold. Dressed in his newly bought coat, Shi Mo hurried toward Gate Three, feeling a bit warm along the way.
Halfway there, he bought a sesame pancake to eat on the go when he suddenly noticed a crowd gathered around a garbage point, shouting excitedly. Out of curiosity, he pushed closer to see what was happening and discovered that a crow was trapped under an old netting. The crow's feathers were glossy and sleek, but it seemed too weak to struggle against its confinement. Its bright black eyes looked helplessly at the surrounding crowd, exuding a sense of profound sadness.
Shi Mo thought to himself that such a well-groomed crow was unlikely to be wild. If left for the crowd to gawk at, someone might cruelly kill it for sale. He didn't want to meddle but couldn't bear to stand by and watch it suffer. So he squeezed into the crowd and carefully examined the bird, noticing that it had a leg band. Due to its position and lighting, the band was obscured by feathers, and no one else seemed to have noticed it.
The people around him expressed their dissatisfaction with his actions; someone asked him harshly if he knew this bird. Shi Mo swallowed his pancake and didn’t turn back. He carefully pulled out the leg band through a gap in the netting and displayed it for everyone to see. "Whatever you plan to do, stop right now. This bird has an owner. Look at this leg band; it has a tracking number. If you cut it off forcibly, it will trigger an alarm. Let it go."
His words convinced most of the crowd, but a few still believed he was just bluffing and trying to claim the crow for himself. A menacing-looking man pushed through the crowd and approached him, slapping Shi Mo hard on the shoulder with his large hand like a fan, causing Shi Mo's pancake to drop from his grip. Angrily turning around, Shi Mo glared at him; fortunately, they were about the same height and neither backed down in intensity.
The man jabbed his finger into Shi Mo's chest and opened his mouth; the foul breath nearly made Shi Mo choke. "Where did you come from? You talk about alarms like you've seen everything! Are you trying to bully me because I haven't seen much?"
Shi Mo shrugged off his hand and nodded toward a nearby stall where an Aunt selling pigeons had rolled up her sleeves and was also looking over. "This Aunt sells birds; she must know about leg bands too. If you don’t believe me, ask her if this is high-tech."
Upon hearing her name mentioned, the Aunt immediately dropped her curious demeanor and tried to retreat behind her stall but was grabbed by the man and dragged in front of the netting. He demanded she confirm whether this leg band was indeed high-tech. Clearly frightened by him, she cautiously stepped around Shi Mo for a better look before nodding in agreement. "I’m not making this up; my husband loves raising parrots, and he just got one with this kind of leg band this year. This thing seems connected too; it really can trigger an alarm."
Her words reassured Shi Mo; unexpectedly, he had guessed correctly by chance. With confirmation from her, the man lost interest in pursuing further confrontation, and soon enough, the crowd dispersed. The Aunt shot Shi Mo an angry glare before muttering something under her breath as she left, leaving only Shi Mo and the crow behind.
"Alright, let’s go," Shi Mo said as he untangled the netting. Seeing that the crow didn’t move, he took out some of the clean filling from his pancake and held it up to its beak. "I’m going to be late. Eat this and head home; don’t come back to places like this."
This delay meant that when he finally reached Gate Three, he encountered a car preparing to leave. He waved it down but was met with an earful of scolding from the driver. Fortunately, the driver still let him in so that he could squeeze into the back seat with two other people. Shi Mo wasn’t familiar with cars but noted that everything inside was leather—suggesting it must be quite an expensive vehicle.
The talent market was located on the outskirts of the city. Shi Mo curled up next to the car door, gazing out at the fleeting scenery, realizing that the vehicle was slowly leaving the city. Besides the driver, there were three others in the car, all seemingly chefs like him, preparing for interviews at the same place. The one in the front passenger seat was dressed in a chef's uniform, his hat nearly touching the roof of the car.
The interior was silent, and Shi Mo could even sense the dissatisfaction radiating from the young man beside him. It was a vague hostility, mixed with disdain and annoyance at his tardiness. Shi Mo appreciated this silence, allowing him to quietly take out his phone and type away.
Last night before bed, he had chatted with Xiao Zhi about Immortal-Retrieving Pavilion, recalling that he had heard of this place during his childhood. Back then, there was only one family in the village that handled weddings and funerals; everyone referred to them as Chef Niu, while the children called him Uncle Niu Liu. The sweet-talking kids could often snag some food while he cooked. Uncle Niu Liu had once mentioned, after a night of heavy drinking, that he had worked in the city when he was young as a chef for a private company called Immortal-Retrieving Pavilion.
However, he hadn’t elaborated on what kind of place it was. All Shi Mo knew was that someone had gone to search for it in the city but returned empty-handed, telling villagers that it might have closed down or perhaps never existed at all. Because Uncle Niu Liu's culinary skills were so exceptional, everyone preferred to believe that it had indeed gone out of business.
"That's quite surprising. But do be careful; after all, it's a company so obscure that even city folks haven't heard of it—most likely dangerous. Get some rest early; report back to me anytime tomorrow. Don’t try to tough it out if something goes wrong," their conversation had abruptly ended with a goodnight message. Shi Mo rubbed his nose and began pondering what Immortal-Retrieving Pavilion could possibly be like.
He searched online but found nothing but strange novel content or meaningless spam posts. Occasionally, he stumbled upon threads with similar questions from years ago that had no replies whatsoever. It seemed this place had never advertised itself; there wasn't even a hint to be found.
The vehicle soon hit a bumpy stretch of road, jolting violently into a pothole before bouncing back up again. The chef’s hat in the front seat was instantly crushed beyond recognition. Shi Mo managed to brace himself against the handle and avoided being tossed around, but the young man in between suffered a blow as his head hit the roof of the car with a thud that made one wince.
A curse floated over from beside him as the young man shouted at the driver to drive more steadily. The driver didn’t indulge him either; they began arguing back and forth. Shi Mo considered intervening but felt a hand patting his shoulder from beside him. Turning to look, he saw a middle-aged man sitting on the other side.
The man wore a black Tang Suit, his short hair neatly slicked back, and he had a black mask covering his face, making it hard to discern his features—only his calm black eyes were visible behind gold-rimmed glasses. The man’s hand reached over from behind the young man and gently shook his head at Shi Mo, signaling him not to get involved.
Thus, what had been a quiet car ride devolved into a shouting match between two people. The driver seemed irritated by the bumpy road as well and hurled insults back at the young man while also complaining about something else—he appeared to be speaking towards Tang Suit Man from an angle.
The bickering continued until they reached their destination. Once Shi Mo saw that the car had come to a stop, he looked around and found nothing but barren land and mountains surrounding them; both sides of the road were lined with dry yellow grass, giving off an atmosphere reminiscent of a crime scene.
The desolate setting cast an eerie shadow over the building ahead—a deep gray structure marred by countless black stains, with several high windows shattered; its most recent feature was an eye-catching vermilion gate protruding from its gray façade.
The gate looked freshly painted; as they approached, he could still smell the lingering scent of paint. A plaque hung above it with gold edges on a red background, inscribed in cursive from right to left: Immortal-Retrieving Pavilion.
Yet despite its opulence, when paired with the grim gray building behind it, it appeared quite bizarre. Shi Mo stared at this structure and couldn’t shake off the feeling that it resembled an extravagant tombstone built atop an ordinary grave mound.
The sky was overcast today, casting a dim light that made the building feel eerily unsettling, with only the first floor illuminated. Shi Mo couldn't help but shiver as he turned to look at the others, who all appeared remarkably calm. The man in the Tang suit had already stepped inside, while the driver remained in the car. The tall chef walked confidently at the front, and the young man beside him wore a sullen expression, clearly still angry.
Crossing the threshold, Shi Mo noticed two young women in red qipaos with their hair styled in buns standing by the door. They looked youthful and strikingly beautiful. With cheerful smiles, they bowed slightly to greet them and closed the door once they confirmed no one was behind.
As the heavy wooden door creaked shut, Shi Mo instinctively turned back, startled by a sudden flash of lightning outside. Thunder followed closely, rumbling ominously overhead.
Inside was the main body of the building, square in shape and consisting of sixteen floors. There were no connections between floors one to fifteen; instead, there was a vertical void in the center leading up to the ceiling, where a massive chandelier hung like an upside-down lily of the valley, with each flower representing a different floor. Each level had four sides, and Shi Mo could see lights on every floor along with many people in professional attire moving about.
The first floor had only three rooms apart from the entrance, each guarded by a service staff member. In the center were three tables set with various warming boxes, where the man in the Tang suit stood straight, waiting for them to approach.
"The three of you are invited to apply for chef positions at Immortal-Retrieving Pavilion. Today we will conduct a simple assessment of your culinary skills. Inside each warming box are prepared ingredients and cooking requirements. You will have fifteen minutes to cook; please feel free to choose any box you like. Once selected, enter the corresponding room based on the pattern on top of the box to begin your cooking. There is a timer inside; regardless of whether you finish or not, please exit before time runs out; otherwise, it will be deemed a failure."
The man in the Tang suit seemed to be in charge here. As they approached, he directly stated the requirements in a deep and steady voice with clear enunciation. After finishing, he kindly asked if they understood everything. Only Shi Mo nodded earnestly; the other two immediately moved toward the tables to grab their warming boxes.
Since they couldn't open their boxes to see what ingredients were inside, Shi Mo lost his competitive spirit. He waited until both had chosen before approaching the last box. Upon picking it up, he noticed that it bore a snake design, and there was indeed a door marked with a snake directly opposite the main entrance.
Curiosity piqued about what ingredients he might find inside while feeling a twinge of self-doubt about his culinary skills. If he drew something bizarre or challenging, it would truly be about participation rather than success. As he pondered how to make do while fearing embarrassment from failure, Shi Mo trudged toward the door with his box in hand. Just as he entered, he heard a crow cawing behind him and turned just in time to see a sleek black crow land on the shoulder of the man in the Tang suit.
The appearance of a crow here was hardly surprising. A service staff member helped him open the door and sweetly thanked him for his efforts. This was Shi Mo's first experience being treated this way; flustered, he returned her greeting before stepping into the room under her bright smile.
Inside was a brand-new stainless steel stove gleaming under the lights, complete with all necessary knives and utensils. Shi Mo set down his box and examined the impressive knives hanging on the wall. At the beginning of the knife rack sat a black timer that lit up as he approached it, starting its countdown without warning.
Shi Mo hurriedly opened his warming box and was taken aback by what he found inside. In that spacious container lay only a palm-sized steak alongside a sprig of rosemary and a bottle of store-bought black pepper sea salt seasoning. They hadn’t even provided a piece of butter! Shi Mo stood there with his hands on his hips, speechless as he confirmed that these were indeed all his ingredients. Reluctantly, he removed an envelope stuck inside the lid.
[Culinary Requirements: Rich yet subtle flavors; more rare than well-done; emphasize natural herbal taste; hot on the outside but cold within.]
I came here to solve a riddle. Shi Mo was so furious that he burst out laughing, tossing the paper aside. He glanced at the luxurious kitchenware and then at the pitiful ingredients, before opening a cabinet and pulling out a frying pan to place on the stove. After confirming for the third time that there were no hidden ingredients in the room, he turned on the heat and tossed the steak into the pan.
"Medium rare, huh? I'll make it one degree rare for you," he thought, achieving that perfect contrast of hot outside and cold inside. He generously sprinkled rosemary all over, its earthy flavor dominating. Then, he sifted black pepper and salt, adding a hefty amount of black pepper but only tossing in two grains of salt. Whether the judges liked it or not was up to them.
Shi Mo's self-destructive attitude allowed him to finish his dish in less than two minutes. To express his dissatisfaction with this competition, he carelessly used a stainless steel plate he had randomly grabbed. With tongs, he placed the rare steak on it, and beside it lay a pair of chopsticks.
Feeling quite satisfied with his creation, he walked out. The waiter guarding the door widened his eyes in disbelief upon seeing him emerge. Meanwhile, Tang Suit Man, who remained standing in the center of the hall, seemed equally surprised. After a moment of shock, he quickly approached and placed a hand on Shi Mo's shoulder, whispering to ask why he had come out.
"I’m done," Shi Mo shrugged nonchalantly. "The requirements were simple; the ingredients were basic. It didn’t take much thought to prepare. As for whether I pass or not, I don’t care."
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard a strange noise coming from inside—the sound of something heavy rolling on wheels. Turning around, he noticed that the door had closed behind him and that the young girl at the entrance had already run away, her face tense as if she were afraid of what was inside.
Shi Mo was puzzled but couldn’t help but swallow hard when he saw fear and tension reflected in Tang Suit Man’s eyes. It felt as though something monstrous might emerge from within.
The three of them stood like statues, staring intently at the door adorned with a snake design until the rolling sound echoed again and quickly faded away. Only then did Tang Suit Man slowly approach, casting a complicated glance at Shi Mo before pushing open the door.
When it opened, no monster leaped out as Shi Mo had imagined. Tang Suit Man clearly hadn’t expected this either; his steps quickened as he entered. The young girl sighed in relief, lightly patting her chest with her delicate hand before skipping back to stand at the door, smiling brightly at him.
"Congratulations, you passed," Tang Suit Man soon emerged holding the paper with the requirements. Shi Mo took it and looked down to see an odd imprint next to the requirements—like someone had smeared it with an oily hand. Leaning closer, he could even smell the aroma of the steak he had just cooked.
"What??" This was truly an unexpected delight.
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