The air in the room was stagnant, smelling of moldy straw and the cheap, cloying scent of "Red Plum" brand cigarettes.
Lin Xi opened her eyes, but all she saw was a blur of crimson. A rough, itchy fabric was draped over her head a bridal veil. But this wasn't a celebration. Her hands were bound behind her back with coarse hemp rope that bit into her wrists.
"Is the tractor here yet?" A woman's voice hissed outside the door. It was her eldest aunt, Zhang Cuifang. "If that girl wakes up and starts screaming, the whole village will know we sold her to the disabled widower in the next valley!"
"Keep your voice down!" her uncle, Lin Dazhu, grumbled. "The widow paid three hundred yuan. That's enough to buy our Jiaojiao the leather shoes and the radio she needs for the city. Lin Xi is just a parentless brat; she should be grateful she's useful for once."
Lin Xi's head throbbed. Memories not her own slammed into her mind.
She was a top-tier executive chef from 2024, a woman who had fought her way up from poverty to run a global culinary empire. Now, she was trapped in the body of a 19-year-old "cannon fodder" in a 1980s period novel. In the original plot, this girl would be dragged off today, live a life of domestic abuse, and eventually die in a winter storm while her cousin, Lin Jiaojiao, lived a life of luxury.
Not on my watch, Lin Xi thought, her eyes narrowing under the red veil.
She didn't panic. She felt around the floor with her bound hands. Her fingers brushed against a discarded ceramic shard likely from the bowl of drugged water they'd forced on her earlier.
She gripped the shard, the sharp edge slicing into her thumb. Ignoring the pain, she began to saw at the hemp ropes.
Saw. Saw. Snap.
The tension gave way. Her hands were free.
The door creaked open. Zhang Cuifang walked in, a greedy smirk on her face. "Time to go, you little..."
Before the aunt could finish, Lin Xi ripped the veil off and lunged. She didn't use her fists; she used her knowledge of anatomy. She struck the woman's pressure point at the base of the neck with the heel of her hand.
Zhang Cuifang didn't even make a sound as she crumpled like a sack of potatoes.
Lin Xi quickly stripped the aunt of her heavy padded coat. She found the three hundred yuan crisp, rare bills tucked inside a hidden pocket.
"Consider this my back pay for five years of slave labor," Lin Xi whispered.
She climbed out the back window, her feet hitting the frozen mud. She knew she couldn't stay in the village. She needed to get to the main road where the military supply trucks passed on their way to the provincial capital.
The wind howled, cutting through her thin shirt. Behind her, she heard the roar of a tractor and her uncle's enraged shout. "She's gone! The brat ran away with the money! Catch her!"
Lin Xi ran until her lungs burned like fire. Just as her legs were about to give out, two beams of light pierced the darkness.
A dark-green military Jeep was idling near the bridge, its engine a low, rhythmic growl. Standing beside it was a man. He was tall easily six feet wearing a long, fur-lined officer's coat. The glowing tip of a cigarette illuminated a face that looked like it had been carved from cold marble.
This was Gu Shaozheng. The man known in the novel as the "Ice Mountain Commander."
Lin Xi didn't beg for help. She knew men like this didn't value weakness; they valued utility.
She stumbled toward him, stopping exactly three feet away. "Commander Gu, I presume?"
Gu Shaozheng's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, swept over her. She was covered in dirt, her hands were bleeding, and she was holding a wad of cash. "You know me?"
"I know you're looking for the man who sabotaged the Northern Railway line last week," Lin Xi said, her voice steady despite the shivering of her body. "And I know he's currently hiding in the cellar of the Lin family home the very house I just escaped from."
The air around Gu Shaozheng turned even colder. He stepped forward, his shadow looming over her. "That information is classified. If you're lying, girl, the consequences are worse than whatever you're running from."
"I'm not lying. My uncle is the one who took the bribe to hide him. If you take me to the city, I'll give you the map of the cellar and the names of the other two men involved."
Gu Shaozheng studied her. Most village girls couldn't look him in the eye for more than a second. This girl was staring at him with a gaze that was ancient and calculating.
"Get in," he commanded, flicking his cigarette into the snow.
The Jeep's heater was broken, but the interior felt like a sanctuary compared to the forest. As they drove, the silence was heavy.
Gu Shaozheng finally spoke as they reached the outskirts of a military checkpoint. "Why tell me? Why not the local police?"
"The local police drink tea with my uncle every Sunday," Lin Xi replied, leaning her head against the window. "You're the only one in this province with enough power to make sure they don't follow me."
Gu Shaozheng pulled over near a small, dilapidated roadside canteen. "I have a meeting. Wait here. Don't try to run, or my men will find you before sunrise."
He left her with a junior soldier, a young man named Xiao Wang who looked like he hadn't slept in days.
Lin Xi's stomach let out a thunderous growl. She looked at the canteen. It was nearly empty, serving only grey, tasteless buns to the soldiers on duty.
"Is the food always this bad?" Lin Xi asked Xiao Wang.
The soldier sighed. "The chef quit last week. We're surviving on old flour and salt."
Lin Xi stood up. "Move."
She walked into the tiny, soot-stained kitchen. She didn't have her Michelin tools, but she had her hands. She found a bowl of leftover pork fat, a jar of dried chilies, and some coarse flour.
She worked with a speed that made Xiao Wang's jaw drop. She kneaded the dough until it was elastic, then pulled it into thin, translucent ribbons. She rendered the pork fat until it was golden and crispy, tossing in the chilies and a dash of vinegar she found in the back of a cupboard.
By the time Gu Shaozheng returned from his meeting, the entire checkpoint was covered in a scent so spicy and fragrant that the guards were practically salivating.
He walked into the canteen to find his men huddled around a table, eating bowls of "Oil-Splashed Noodles" that looked like something out of a dream.
Lin Xi stood by the stove, a bowl in her hand. "You look like a man who hasn't had a decent meal in years, Commander."
Gu Shaozheng took the bowl. The first bite was an explosion of flavor the heat of the chili, the richness of the fat, and the perfect 'al dente' texture of the noodles. It was a level of skill that shouldn't exist in a remote village.
He finished the bowl in silence, then looked at her, his expression unreadable. "What do you want, Lin Xi?"
"A permit to open a food stall in the Capital's central market," she said, wiping her hands on a cloth. "And your protection until I can afford my own guards."
Gu Shaozheng stood up, his tall frame dwarfing the small kitchen. "You've got a week to prove those noodles weren't a fluke. If they aren't, I'll give you the permit. If they are... I'll send you back to your uncle."
Lin Xi smirked. "Deal."
In the distance, the first rays of the 1980s sun began to rise. The "cannon fodder" was gone. The Queen of the Kitchen had arrived.