That bowl of noodle soup was like a beam of light, tearing through the gloom in my heart.

I sat by the bed, quietly gazing at the empty bowl, feeling a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. Ashen... How did he remember the exact way my favorite noodle soup tasted from my childhood? That homely flavor, the broth my father used to prepare—how did he manage to recreate it?


Wait, hold on...

Suddenly, I remembered something and quickly picked up the bowl to sniff it carefully.

The flavor of this broth... It's not just chicken soup. There's a faint, almost imperceptible aroma of medicinal herbs—angelica root and goji berries, and a hint of ginseng's sweetness. These ingredients were perfectly balanced, nourishing the body without overpowering the soup's deliciousness.


Whoever made this broth is definitely no ordinary cook.

And... I closed my eyes, carefully recalling the sensation from the taste moments ago. That mild medicinal aroma, that precise blending ratio—this wasn’t something Ashen could have made. Though Ashen was highly skilled in martial arts, he knew nothing about cooking; even boiling a plain egg would end up burnt.


Then, who exactly made this bowl of noodles?

A strange feeling suddenly surged within me. It was like... like something dormant was slowly awakening.

Right, I almost forgot... I possess a unique talent for taste. Since childhood, I’ve always been able to discern flavors in food that others couldn’t. Father said this was a special ability passed down through generations in the Hawthorne Family.

I picked up the bowl again and gently licked the remnants of the broth at the bottom.

Instantly, a warm current surged through my entire body. It was as if I could see the person who made this bowl of noodles—a pair of gentle yet firm hands, meticulously preparing the broth, tasting it repeatedly until it reached perfection.

This person... truly cared for me. No, it wasn’t just care—it was a deep, heartfelt affection, like the tender love an elder holds for their younger kin.

But who could this person be?

I put the bowl down and began to carefully recall everything my parents had taught me.

"Lin'er, the Hawthorne Family's sense of taste is extraordinary," my father's voice echoed in my memory. "Ordinary people can only taste the basic flavors—sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy—but we can perceive so much more."

"More?" I had asked curiously as a child.

"The human heart," my father gently patted my head, "when someone prepares food, their emotions are infused into it. When happy, the dishes made are particularly sweet; when angry, they carry a hint of bitterness, and when prepared with love and care..."

"What happens then?"

"There is a special kind of warmth, like the spring sunshine, capable of healing the heart."

My eyes instantly welled up with tears.

So, what my father said was true. I really could sense the emotions of the maker through the taste. And that bowl of noodles just now was filled with warm affection, brimming with the intention to protect and heal me.

So, who could it be, aside from Ashen and Starson, who loves me so dearly?

I continued to reminisce.

"Apart from sensing emotions, does our Hawthorne Family have other abilities?"

Mother smiled and continued, "Of course there is. We can identify the origin, age, and quality of all spices and medicinal herbs. We can prepare the most suitable medicinal meals for each individual's constitution, and even..."

"Even what?"

"We can create special dishes that influence a person's mood and willpower." Mother's expression turned serious. "But this ability is dangerous, Lin'er. You must use it cautiously—only to help others, never to harm them."

I remember my young self nodding half-understandingly and then asking, "Do we have any secret manuals or something? Like in storybooks?"

My parents exchanged a glance and laughed.

"Indeed, we do," Father said. "Our Hawthorne Family has a secret recipe book passed down through generations. It contains various miraculous culinary techniques developed by our ancestors. When you grow a little older, I will pass it on to you."

But before I could grow up, disaster struck our family...

I found myself standing up involuntarily and began pacing around the room.

That secret recipe book—was it surely confiscated during the raid? Or was it burned?

No, wait... If it had been confiscated, why would the imperial court never have mentioned it? If the book truly contained such miraculous cooking methods, the court would have surely been interested.

Unless... unless it was never discovered at all?

My heart raced faster and faster. Could it be, could it be that someone secretly hid the book? Was there someone who knew my family's impending doom and rescued the book beforehand?

But who would do such a thing? Who would risk saving something from a "traitorous" household?

Wait a minute... The person who made that bowl of noodles earlier, the one who cared for me like family...

Suddenly, I thought of someone.

Scarlet.

Master Scarlet of the Imperial Kitchen. She was always particularly strict with me, but sometimes I could sense a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. Moreover, her culinary skills were exquisite, and she was highly knowledgeable about medicinal cuisine...

Could it be her?

The more I thought about it, the more possible it seemed. But if it really was Master Scarlet, why would she help me? Why would she care about me?

There was only one way to find out.

I took a deep breath and walked to the door.

"Someone!" I knocked on the door, "I wish to see Master Scarlet!"

The guard at the door seemed puzzled: "Miss Feng, haven’t you been refusing to see anyone these past few days? It’s already very late..."

"I know it’s late, but this is important. Please ask Master Scarlet to come, tell her I have urgent matters to discuss."

"But the Emperor’s orders..."

"I’m not trying to leave, I just want to see Master Scarlet. And I believe she can arrange it."

The guard hesitated for a moment but eventually went to report.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, I heard familiar footsteps. That steady and powerful stride was distinctly Scarlet's unique rhythm.

The door opened, and Scarlet walked in.

She still wore that stern expression, but in the dim candlelight, I saw the complex emotions in her eyes clearly for the first time. There was care, heartache, and a hint of... guilt?

"Liner," she said softly, "you’re finally willing to see someone."

I stared straight into her eyes: "Scarlet, you made that bowl of noodle soup earlier, didn’t you?"

Scarlet paused for a moment, then let out a sigh.

"You noticed it after tasting it..." She shook her head with a bitter smile. "I knew I couldn’t hide it from you. You children of the Hawthorne Family have such a natural talent."

"You... how do you know about the Hawthorne Family’s talent?"

Lady Scarlet did not answer immediately but instead sat down on the only chair in my room. Her movements were light and cautious, as if she were afraid of disturbing something precious.

"Lin'er, do you really want to know?" Her voice was soft and gentle, completely unlike the usually stern Chief of the Imperial Kitchen. "Some things, once known, might bring even more pain."

"I want to know," I said without hesitation. "No matter how painful, I want to know the truth."

Lady Scarlet gazed at me for a long time, then let out a deep sigh.

"Very well... I’ll tell you everything." A complex light flickered in her eyes. "Lin'er, I knew your mother. No, I should say, your mother and I were once very close friends."

My eyes widened. "You... you knew my mother?"

"Not just acquainted, we once served together in the palace. Your mother, Wisteria Hawthorne, was one of the most outstanding medicinal chefs in the palace at that time. And I was her most trusted assistant and friend."

I felt the entire world spinning around me.

"Then... what happened after that?"

"Later, your mother married your father and left the palace. We still kept in touch, and she often wrote to me, telling me about you. Did you know? When you were just born, she wrote to me, saying that you would surely inherit the talents of the Hawthorne Family, and might even surpass her in the future."

Master Scarlet's voice grew even gentler: "She always said that if she were no longer around one day, I must take care of you, guide you, and help you become someone truly capable of protecting yourself."

My tears began to fall: "Then... when my parents had the accident..."

"I know your father was wronged," Lady Scarlet's voice grew angry, "I know better than anyone what kind of person Uncle Wenyuan is. He was gentle and kind, and never involved himself in any political struggles. How could he possibly have conspired to rebel?"

"If you knew, why didn’t you speak up for him at the time?"

Lady Scarlet lowered her head, "Because... I didn’t have the courage. The situation back then was too complex, involving too many people. I was just a minor palace maid—my words carried no weight. And... I had more important things to do."

"What things?"

Lady Scarlet stood up and walked toward the door. I thought she was leaving, but instead, she bolted the door to ensure no one could eavesdrop on our conversation.

Then she took out a small bundle from her bosom and carefully unwrapped it.

Inside was what appeared to be an ordinary culinary notebook, its cover slightly yellowed and the corners worn.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Your mother's keepsake," Scarlet handed me the notebook, "When your family was raided that year, I risked my life to sneak into your house and saved it from the flames. All these years, I've been waiting for the right moment to give it to you."

My hands trembled as I took the notebook. On the cover, the words "Culinary Records" were written in elegant calligraphy, likely my mother's handwriting.

I opened the first page, which documented various common culinary practices and medicinal herb pairings. The handwriting was neat, and the content detailed—it indeed appeared to be an ordinary culinary manual.

But...

I suddenly noticed something strange. Some parts of the paper had slightly different hues, and some writings were so faint they were almost illegible.

"Scarlet, why are these characters so faint?"

Scarlet smiled mysteriously, "Try holding the pages close to the candle flame. Be careful not to burn them."

Following her instructions, I carefully held the pages near the candle flame.

A miracle occurred!

Those faint words began to slowly appear, just like invisible ink revealing itself when exposed to heat. And the content that emerged left me so shocked that I was almost speechless.

These invisible words did not record ordinary culinary practices, but rather an array of miraculous recipes!

"Calming Soup: Brings peace to one's heart, dispelling hostility and anger..."

"Clarity Powder: After consumption, it clears the mind, shielding one from external temptations..."

"Forgetfulness Tea: Temporarily erases painful memories, but harmful if taken in excess..."

This... this is the Hawthorne Family’s secret, heirloom recipe passed down through generations!

My hands trembled with excitement:"Lady Scarlet, this... this really is..."

"Indeed, this is the secret recipe of the Hawthorne Family," Scarlet's eyes flashed with a complex light. "Your mother anticipated the danger and hid these secrets in ordinary dietary records using a special potion. Only when exposed to sufficient heat would the true contents reveal themselves."

I could hardly believe what I was seeing. This seemingly ordinary dietary journal concealed such an astonishing secret!

"Why are you giving it to me only now?"

"Because you weren't strong enough before," Scarlet said earnestly, looking at me. "This book holds not only miraculous recipes but also a heavy responsibility. The Hawthorne Family's secret recipes can save lives, but they can also harm. If they fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be unimaginable."

I understood now. No wonder Scarlet had always been so strict with me. She was tempering my will, honing my character, ensuring I had the virtue and capability to carry on this legacy.

"Liner," Lady Scarlet held my hand, "Now you know the truth. Your father was framed, and your family was the victim of political struggles. This book is the foundation for you to rise again. But remember, revenge is not the goal; protecting the innocent is the true meaning of the Hawthorne Family."

I tightly hugged this precious manuscript, feeling as though I was embracing the final gift my parents had left for me.

"Lady Scarlet... no, Aunt Scarlet," I changed my address, "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I understand now. I will never fail the legacy of my parents, nor will I disappoint your expectations."

Lady Scarlet's eyes also moistened: "Good child... Your mother would surely be very comforted to see you like this today."

I carefully stored the manuscript away, and the fire in my heart burned once again.

This time, it was not the flame of anger, nor the flame of revenge, but the flame of hope—a fire of determination to use my own abilities to protect those precious to me.

The phoenix rises from the ashes, reborn through fire.

From today onward, I am that phoenix, spreading its wings once more.