The Azure Sky Sect kitchen was quiet... for now.
Li Ming carefully carried Lei Shan through the swinging doors, trying to keep him from noticing the stacks of pots, herbs, and boiling cauldrons.
"Little Thunderbub," he said firmly, "we are not here to play with food. Focus."
Lei Shan blinked at him. Then yawned. Then sneezed — a tiny spark lighting the tip of his nose. A cloud of steam puffed from a boiling pot.
Bai Guo hovered behind them, feathers ruffled. "Descendant, is it me, or is this mission already doomed?"
Li Ming gave him a sharp look. "Don’t speak unless you want to clean up molten porridge."
He placed Lei Shan on the counter, giving him a small bundle of herbs. "Just... touch these lightly. We’re refining a Qi-enhanced medicinal broth. Nothing else. Keep your powers in check."
Lei Shan sniffed the herbs, then stared at a nearby ladle as if plotting.
A moment later, he batted it across the counter. It clanged loudly, spilling soup into a pile of carefully sliced ginseng.
Li Ming groaned. "I said ’lightly,’ not obliterate."
Bai Guo’s eyes gleamed. "You realize he’s basically a walking lightning storm, right?"
"I know!" Li Ming yelled, trying to catch Lei Shan before he nudged a pot of glowing Qi broth. Sparks shot out as the liquid trembled.
Before he could reach him, Lei Shan pounced onto a stack of bowls, sending them flying like frisbees. Each bowl bounced, spun, and landed perfectly — mostly. A few crashed into the floor, one narrowly missing Bai Guo.
"Careful!" Li Ming shouted. "Focus!"
The cub blinked innocently and wagged his tail. Another spark of lightning sizzled across the counter, caramelizing a batch of herbs.
Li Ming’s hands shook. "I’m going to need a new stomach after this..."
Bai Guo whispered, "Or a new kitchen."
Lei Shan, clearly proud of his work, nudged a steaming cauldron with one paw. It wobbled precariously.
Li Ming lunged — too slow. The cauldron tilted. Its contents poured over the counter... and over Lei Shan, who sneezed again, sending a tiny bolt ricocheting off the ceiling and perfectly splitting a hanging jar of rare medicinal powder.
Li Ming froze. "...This is... spectacularly bad."
Bai Guo squawked. "Descendant! You’ve created culinary chaos!"
Lei Shan shook himself, sending tiny sparks across the floor. Then, with the calm innocence of a cat, he sat down and licked his paw.
Li Ming pinched the bridge of his nose. "And that’s why I’m never letting him near anything fragile again."
By the end, the kitchen looked like a storm had passed. Herbs were everywhere, bowls shattered, steam and Qi crackled in random corners.
Bai Guo hovered above the mess, wings spread. "Descendant... I think you just invented a new art form. Culinary Qi Disaster."
Li Ming knelt, carefully scooping Lei Shan into his arms. "We’ll... we’ll clean this up. Together."
Lei Shan purred loudly, oblivious.
"...I’m doomed," Li Ming muttered.
Bai Guo tilted his head. "No. The sect is doomed. You’re just the lucky messenger."
Li Ming groaned. But somewhere inside, he felt it — the joy of raising this chaotic little lightning cub. It would be a long, wild ride.
And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The morning sun streamed through the Medicine Hall windows, highlighting the wreckage of the previous day’s kitchen fiasco. Herbs lay scattered like a colorful carpet, broken bowls glittered like crystals in the sunlight, and tiny burn marks traced arcs across the stone floor.
Li Ming carefully placed Lei Shan on a raised platform. "Today, little Thunderbub, we do something simple. Focus on transferring Qi into the herbs — nothing else."
Lei Shan blinked, tilted his head, then yawned. Sparks flickered along his fur.
Bai Guo hovered above, wings twitching. "Simple, he says. I see ’simple’ as a direct invitation to chaos."
Li Ming ignored him, picking up a handful of golden herbs. "Step one: just... infuse these with gentle Qi. No lightning. No sparks. No... spontaneous combustion."
Lei Shan immediately sneezed. A tiny bolt ricocheted off the mortar, vaporizing a few of the herbs.
Li Ming groaned. "Gentle Qi! That does not mean vaporize!"
Bai Guo shook his feathers. "And here I thought yesterday’s performance was impressive. He’s clearly upping the ante."
Li Ming took a deep breath, trying to focus. He guided his own Qi into the herbs, creating a soft glow. Then, carefully, he nudged Lei Shan’s paw toward the mixture.
Lei Shan looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Then, with the speed of a lightning flash, he slammed both paws into the mortar. The herbs shot upward in a glowing arc, landing on the ceiling. Some stuck, some fell back into the mortar — some fused into unidentifiable sparkling clumps.
Li Ming’s mouth opened. "...You—why?"
Bai Guo squawked. "Artistic expression, I presume."
Lei Shan blinked and purred, completely satisfied.
"Alright," Li Ming muttered, pinching his nose. "We can fix this. Step two: stir carefully."
He handed Lei Shan a tiny pestle. "Just... one rotation. Slowly. Follow my rhythm."
Lei Shan gave a single nod. Then swung the pestle wildly, hitting the side of the mortar so hard that the glowing herbs leapt out in a spinning vortex.
Bai Guo ducked. "...Descendant. That’s not stirring. That’s summoning a storm."
Li Ming sighed and lunged to steady the pestle. Sparks flew everywhere, igniting a faint blue glow on the ceiling. Lei Shan yawned innocently and nudged the mortar again.
The herbs shot into the air, spinning around like a miniature cyclone, sticking to Li Ming’s robes, Bai Guo’s feathers, and even the walls.
Li Ming groaned. "I cannot believe this."
Bai Guo tilted his head. "I believe it. But I also believe we might never eat here again."
By the time step three arrived — "Pour the infused mixture into the cauldron" — the situation had escalated. The mortar floated slightly, guided by Lei Shan’s Qi. Li Ming grabbed the edges, but Lei Shan leapt onto his shoulder. His tiny claws sparked, sending a pulse of energy that levitated every pot and pan in the room.
Li Ming’s eyes widened. "...Flying cookware. Of course."
Bai Guo squawked, narrowly avoiding a ladle aimed like a missile. "Descendant, he’s turning the kitchen into a battlefield!"
Lei Shan yawned again, hitting the cauldron with a paw. The mixture inside shimmered violently, then... miraculously stabilized.
Li Ming stared. "...It worked?"
Bai Guo fluttered cautiously around them. "...Somehow. Don’t ask me how."
Lei Shan purred, hopping down and curling up on the counter, looking entirely proud of himself.
Li Ming wiped his sweat and surveyed the chaos. Herbs floated midair, the cauldron hummed with energy, and a faint blue glow clung to everything.
Bai Guo hovered over a floating spoon. "Descendant... you’ve just created a Qi-infused kitchen tornado." Orıginal content can be found at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵⚑𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⚑𝓷𝓮𝓽
Li Ming groaned. "I think it’s technically fine. The medicine is perfect... but I might never set foot in a kitchen again."
Lei Shan rolled over, glowing eyes half-closed. He sneezed again, sending a tiny spark that lightly toasted a stack of recipe scrolls.
Li Ming pinched the bridge of his nose. "...Absolutely not."
Bai Guo’s wings drooped. "I’m starting to think this is his way of parenting — chaos as life lessons."
Li Ming stared at the cub, who purred like a tiny storm cloud, curling around his satchel. "...I’m doomed."
By the time the kitchen was semi-stable, Lei Shan had claimed a pot of herbs as his own, perched on the edge, and began batting at stray Qi tendrils. Li Ming could only watch, torn between marveling at the medicine he’d produced and slowly realizing he’d just signed up for a lifetime of pet-induced calamity.
Bai Guo tilted his head, feathers ruffled but eyes amused. "Descendant... congratulations. You’ve adopted not a child, not a pet... but a walking, purring, furniture-destroying storm."
Li Ming sighed. "I just hope he grows out of this."
Lei Shan yawned again, sparks flickering harmlessly across the room, clearly intending to prove otherwise.
Somewhere deep inside, Li Ming already knew — this was only the beginning.
And somehow... he was already terrified.