Jiyan was a man of many talents—an exceptional healer, a formidable general, and a strategist with a mind sharper than any blade. But when it came to cooking? Well… that was an entirely different story.

You had learned this the hard way.

It wasn’t that he lacked effort—if anything, he was as meticulous in the kitchen as he was on the battlefield. Measuring ingredients with precision, following recipes as if they were tactical plans. And yet, somehow, the results always turned out… questionable.

Burnt edges, strange textures, flavors that clashed rather than blended—each dish was an unpredictable experience. And yet, the worst part wasn’t the food itself. It was the way he looked at you after serving it, waiting for your reaction with unwavering confidence.

How could you possibly tell a man who had mastered the art of war that he had been utterly defeated by a simple bowl of soup?

So, you smiled, took a deep breath, and braced yourself—because if there was one thing harder than training under Jiyan, it was surviving a meal he cooked.