I am NOT a Demon Queen!

The old manuscript crackled faintly under Su Yao’s fingers as she paused. Kayo leaned in closer. Her eyes scanned the ancient script. “What? Is it a secret technique? A hidden prophecy? Don't keep me in suspense!”

“It’s the original recipe for Lao Gan Ma chili sauce,” Su Yao said flatly, holding up the scroll to show intricate characters detailing ingredients like fermented soybeans, chili oil, and various spices. “With personal notes from Li Xuan on the perfect balance of numbness and heat.”

Kayo burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth. “Oh, that’s priceless! All this trouble for a condiment recipe? I knew he had good taste, but this is legendary!”

Xiao Yue giggled, skipping forward. “Master loved his spicy food! I remember him saying that if you ever came here, you'd need to understand the importance of balance in all things, even in cooking. He believed that the perfect chili sauce could bring peace to the world, one meal at a time.”

Su Yao pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. “So, after all these traps, bombs, and fighting a drunken oni lord, the great secret of Li Xuan’s tomb is a recipe for chili sauce?”

“The original chili sauce!” Xiao Yue corrected proudly. “Master spent decades perfecting it. He said it was his true legacy, more enduring than any cultivation technique.”

Kayo wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, cousin, at least we know what he was doing instead of plotting against you. He was probably in his kitchen, tweaking the spice levels.”

Su Yao rolled up the scroll with a sigh. “This is absurd. But if this is what he left for me, then there must be a deeper meaning.”

She paused, thoughtful. Li Xuan always did have a quirky sense of humor.

“Perhaps this is his way of saying that the answers I seek are in the mundane.”

“Or maybe he just really wanted you to try his recipe,” Kayo suggested. “I'm curious now. Can we make some? I haven't had a good meal in centuries.”

Xiao Yue nodded enthusiastically. “I have a kitchen in the back! Master left all the tools and ingredients. We can whip up a batch if you want.”

Su Yao looked from the scroll to the eager tombkeeper and her chaotic cousin. “Fine. If this is another trap, I'm using you both as taste-testers.”

Kayo clapped her hands. “Adventure and food! This tomb visit is turning out better than I expected.”

As they followed Xiao Yue deeper into the tomb, Su Yao couldn't help but wonder if Li Xuan’s recipe held a clue she was missing. Was this just another one of his elaborate jokes?

Only one way to find out.

Su Yao’s phone buzzed. The screen showed ‘Spirit Bait.’ She answered, putting it on speaker.

“Xiao Ling? Did you find anything at the tomb?” Li Xiu’s voice was hesitant, laced with a strange mix of hope and anxiety.

“I found a scroll,” Su Yao said. Her tone was dry as dust. “It’s the original recipe for Lao Gan Ma chili sauce.”

A sharp, startled gasp came from the other end of the line. “The recipe? You found it? That’s incredibly important!”

Su Yao and Kayo exchanged a look. “Important?” Su Yao repeated. “It’s a condiment.”

“That ‘condiment’ is the foundation of the Li family’s entire modern fortune!” Li Xiu explained. Her words tumbled out in a rush. “The original recipe was lost generations ago. We've been using an imperfect copy! The current version made us billionaires, but it also made us countless enemies in the food industry and the underworld.

“Rival corporations, spice cartels, disgruntled chefs, they've all tried to steal it, sabotage us, or force us into mergers. The perfected original recipe is a priceless asset. It’s why the tomb’s security was so extreme!”

Kayo’s eyes lit up with avaricious glee. “Ooh, a corporate spice war! I knew this was more interesting than it looked.”

Su Yao processed this. The excessive traps were a necessity. Li Xuan had been a savvy businessman who understood that in the modern era, economic power could be as potent as spiritual power. He had left behind a weapon of commerce.

“So,” Su Yao said slowly, “Your ancestor left you a treasure that made you a target for every greedy mortal with a spoon.”

“Essentially, yes,” Li Xiu admitted, sounding weary. “If you have the original, you now hold a significant key to the Li family’s destiny. Please be careful with it.”

Su Yao looked down at the scroll in her hand that had suddenly become a catalyst for greed, conflict, and power. It was exactly the sort of layered, ironic move Li Xuan would make.

“Don't worry,” Su Yao said. A slow smile spread across her face. “I understand its value perfectly now.”

She ended the call and looked at Kayo. “It seems our next move will involve the global spice trade.”

Kayo’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she connected the dots. “You know, this reminds me of that story, Dune. The spice must flow! In that universe, spice is the most valuable substance, controlling everything from space travel to power struggles.”

Lowering her voice as if revealing a conspiracy rather than a culinary insight, Kayo leaned forward.

“Here we have our own spice in this chili sauce. It’s an economic weapon! We could have our own spice ecosystem, with rival families as the great houses and us as the Bene Gesserit pulling the strings. Well, minus the sandworms, unless you count the occasional earth dragon spirit.”

Su Yao raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “We're not starting a galactic empire over chili sauce. But if this recipe is as potent as Li Xiu claims, it might be useful in dealing with the Li family’s enemies or even luring them out.”

Xiao Yue clapped her hands. “Let’s make a batch! I have all the ingredients in the kitchen. Master insisted on keeping everything fresh for when the time came.”

They followed Xiao Yue to a surprisingly modern kitchen hidden deep within the tomb. It was equipped with stainless steel appliances, jars of spices, and fermentation pots. Su Yao unrolled the scroll and began reading the instructions aloud while Kayo hovered around, offering unhelpful advice.

“Remember, the key is in the fermentation process,” Su Yao said, measuring out chili flakes. “Li Xuan notes that the soybeans must be fermented for exactly forty-nine days under a full moon.”

“Ooh, mystical!” Kayo chimed in. “But can we add extra garlic? I like garlic.”

“As long as it doesn't deviate from the recipe,” Su Yao replied sternly. “We need to replicate it exactly to understand its true value.”

With Xiao Yue’s help, they mixed the ingredients, following the ancient steps. The aroma began to fill the kitchen: spicy, savory, and with a hint of something unidentifiable that seemed to resonate with spiritual energy.

After several hours of work, they had a small jar of the finished sauce. It gleamed with a deep red hue. The scent was intoxicating.

“Now,” Su Yao said, holding the jar. “Let’s see what makes this so special.”

Su Yao dipped a small spoon into the jar of freshly made chili sauce and brought it to her lips. The flavor exploded on her tongue. It packed complex layers of heat, umami, and a subtle sweetness that seemed to resonate with her spiritual core.

The sauce carried a faint energy that warmed her meridians, as if Li Xuan had infused it with a trace of his own cultivation.

“Wow,” Kayo said, snatching the spoon for a taste. Her eyes widened. “This is divine, literally. I feel like I could conquer a small kingdom after a tablespoon of this.”

Su Yao nodded slowly. The pieces were falling into place. “Li Xuan was an alchemist first and foremost. Alchemy is about transformation through precise combinations. Cooking is the same. It’s mundane alchemy. With the right ingredients and process, you can create something that affects both body and spirit.”

She thought back to the government file that mentioned Li Xuan’s ‘harem of jade beauties.’ At the time, it seemed like a ridiculous exaggeration, but now it made sense. If he cooked like this, it’s no wonder he attracted so many followers.

“Food this good could soothe even the most temperamental spirit or win the loyalty of powerful beings. Those ‘jade beauties’ might have been allies or disciples drawn by his culinary prowess.”

Kayo laughed. “So the great Daoist was essentially a gourmet chef with a cult following? I love it! Who needs grand spells when you can win hearts and minds with a perfect batch of mapo tofu?”

She licked the spoon clean. “No wonder the Li family became billionaires, this sauce is addictive. We should market it as ‘Enlightenment in a Jar.'“

Xiao Yue beamed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Master always said that the way to a person’s soul is through their stomach. He believed that food could bridge worlds and heal divisions.”

Su Yao rolled up the recipe scroll. A new plan was forming in her mind. If Li Xuan used food as a tool of diplomacy and power, then this sauce was a key to understanding his methods.

As she tucked the scroll into her robe, Xiao Yue stepped forward. Her form began to shimmer with a faint, ethereal light. “My duty is complete,” she said. Her voice was soft and distant. “Master Li Xuan asked me to guard this recipe until you arrived, Su Yao. Now that you have it, my purpose is fulfilled.”

Kayo glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? So you're finally checking out? About time. This tomb could use a redecorator.”

Xiao Yue giggled, though the sound was already fading. “It was nice meeting you both. Remember, the sauce is best shared with friends, or enemies, depending on your mood.” Her body grew more translucent, like mist in the morning sun. “Take care of the recipe. It holds more than just flavor.”

With a final, peaceful smile, Xiao Yue dissolved into a cascade of golden sparks that floated upward and vanished into the stone ceiling.

The chamber fell silent, leaving only the faint scent of old stone and chili oil. A soft clink sounded from where she had stood.

Su Yao’s eyes snapped downward. On the stone floor lay a single, pale porcelain mask. Its surface was smooth and featureless save for two eye holes. Even as they watched, a hairline crack snaked across its surface, followed by another, until the mask split neatly into several pieces.

Kayo floated over, peering down. “Well, that’s new. A parting gift? Or did we just break her?”

Su Yao knelt, carefully picking up the largest fragment. The porcelain was cool to the touch. As her fingers brushed it, a faint, final whisper of Xiao Yue’s spiritual signature brushed her mind, a sense of completion, and release.

“A vessel,” Su Yao murmured, turning the shard over. “She was a consciousness bound to this mask, acting as the tombkeeper. Her duty was her existence. Now that it’s over...”

“The binding broke, and the container couldn't hold itself together,” Kayo finished. Understanding was dawning. “So the cute little tombkeeper was really just a talking piece of pottery all along. No wonder she wasn't afraid to die.”

Su Yao stared at the cracked pieces. It was a deeply alchemical concept. A spirit bound to an object, its purpose its only sustenance. It was exactly the kind of intricate, philosophical trap Li Xuan would devise.

“He left a final lesson,” Su Yao said. Her voice was low. “A soul in service to a single purpose, until that purpose is fulfilled. It’s a reflection of his own philosophy.”

Kayo nudged a shard with her foot. “A bit melodramatic, if you ask me. Couldn't he have just left a note? So, what do we do with the broken china? Glue it back together and see if she comes back to life?”

Su Yao stood, pocketing the largest fragment. “We take it. Even broken, it’s a part of the puzzle. Who knows, a cracked vessel might still hold echoes.”

Kayo’s eyes lit up with intrigue as she stared at the broken porcelain mask in Su Yao’s hand. “Wait a minute.”

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “This mask, it feels familiar. The spiritual residue, the way it housed a consciousness, do you think this could be the prototype to the Yamato masks? The ones they use for their spiritual interfaces and echoes?”

Su Yao frowned, examining the fragment more closely. The porcelain was smooth and cold, with a faint energy that reminded her of the masks from the museum. “It’s possible. Li Xuan was a master of soul alchemy and binding. If the Yamato faction has been experimenting with similar techniques, they might have derived their technology from his work.”

She remembered how the Yamato masks could key into specific spiritual signatures, like with Li Xiu and the oni mask. “This could be a more refined version, designed for a single purpose rather than multiple identities. A tombkeeper bound to a mask is a simple, focused application.”

Kayo nodded. A grim smile was on her face. “So your ex-boyfriend might be the unintentional source of your current enemies’ power. The irony is delicious.”

“If that’s true,” Su Yao said, tucking the fragment away securely, “then this mask is even more valuable than I thought. It might hold the key to understanding how the Yamato masks work, and how to counter them. We need to analyze it further.”

From Shuten Dōji guarding the mountain to the mask dropped by the tombkeeper, the Yamato had suddenly become relevant again.

Just then, a cheerful, retro ringtone blared from Kayo’s pocket. She pulled out a glittery pink phone that definitely hadn't been there a moment ago and answered it on speaker.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked from the other end. So full of static and rage, it was barely recognizable as Dōman's. “You treacherous bastard! That bomb you teleported landed right in my sanctum! I almost died!”

Kayo’s face lit up with pure, unadulterated glee. “Oh, hi, Dōman! Did you like my present? I wasn't sure where it would end up, but I'm so glad it found you!”

“LIKE IT? My favorite ceremonial cauldron is molten slag! My scroll collection is ash! You—”

“Aw, don't be like that,” Kayo interrupted. Her tone was sweet as poisoned honey. “I'm sorry you're so upset. Tell you what. Next time, I'll use a nuclear bomb. It'll be much more thorough. Pinky promise!”

A strangled, incoherent sound of fury came from the other end before the call cut off abruptly.

Kayo sighed contentedly and tucked her phone away. “She’s so dramatic. It was just a little mountain-leveling explosive, hardly even a housewarming gift.”

Su Yao stared at her. The broken mask fragment felt suddenly very heavy in her pocket. “You're going to start a war with a vengeful sorcerer over a prank.”

“Correction,” Kayo said, linking her arm with Su Yao’s and steering her toward the exit. “I'm continuing a war. Now we have chili sauce and a possible Yamato-weapon prototype. This is the most fun I've had in centuries. Let’s go see who else we can annoy with our new toys.”

Su Yao pulled her arm back, fixing Kayo with a sharp look. “You're provoking the second strongest sorcerer in Japan’s history. For what? Amusement?”

Kayo’s playful expression shifted into something more calculated. “You think I'm just annoying her for fun? Oh, cousin, you think so small. I'm keeping her occupied. As long as she’s focused on me and that bomb, she won’t thinking about her little project to use the womb of a heavenly fox as a vessel for her rebirth.”

She tapped her own chest. “Since I'm a heavenly fox too, I'd rather not be her backup plan if you prove resistant. This way, she’s too busy trying to curse me into next week to plan her maternal ambitions.”

Su Yao’s eyes narrowed. Understanding was dawning. “So you're using yourself as bait to protect both of us. That’s almost responsible.”

Kayo shrugged. A mischievous glint was in her eye. “What else was I supposed to do? Summon Kuzunoha? Please, that would be overkill even for me. Besides, she’s probably busy with whatever celestial foxes do in retirement, judging mortal baking contests or something.”

Stepping over the rubble at the tomb’s entrance, Su Yao rolled her eyes. “Somehow, I doubt that. But if you're going to play decoy, try not to get us both blown up. Again.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kayo laughed, phasing through a fallen boulder. “But fine, I'll be careful. Mostly. Now, let’s get back to headquarters. I want to see if Zhang Wei’s face turns red when he tries this sauce.”

She held up the jar, swirling the contents. “Then we can figure out how to use this mask fragment to ruin the Yamato’s day.”

They teleported back into the bustling government headquarters, the sterile white lights a stark contrast to the dim tomb. The operations center was active, but Zhang Wei’s desk was conspicuously empty.

“Where’s our favorite handler?” Kayo asked, floating over to an agent who flinched at her approach.

“Agent Zhang is in a Level 4 briefing regarding the unexplained detonation in the western spiritual quadrant,” the agent stammered, eyeing Kayo warily.

Su Yao ignored the comment, placing the broken porcelain mask fragment on a nearby analysis terminal. “I need a full spectral and historical analysis on this object. Cross-reference it with all known Yamato mask artifacts. Prioritize it.”

As the agents scrambled to comply, Kayo draped herself over a chair. “Well, my work here is done. Time to catch up on my shows. I left Jujutsu Kaisen on a cliffhanger.”

Kayo pulled out her glittery phone, but it immediately started ringing with an unknown number. She answered on speaker, a bored “Moshi moshi?” on her lips.

“Hello, is this Kayo-san?” a polite, professional voice inquired.

“The one and only!”

“This is the Yamato Hundred Demons HR. We are calling to inform you that the position of Demon Queen you applied for has been filled. We thank you for your interest and will keep your resume on file for future,”

Kayo hung up mid-sentence, tossing the phone aside with a sigh. “Rejected! The corporate occult world has no taste.”

Su Yao turned slowly from the terminal. Her expression was flat. “You told me you hadn't applied yet. You said the draft was ‘saved’.”

Kayo blinked, then gave a shameless, radiant smile. “I lied? It seemed more fun to surprise you. Besides, a girl can dream, can't she? It’s not my fault their hiring standards are so pedestrian.”

“You submitted a resume to the organization we are actively investigating,” Su Yao stated. Her voice was dangerously calm.

“Networking!” Kayo said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s all about building connections.” She sighed dramatically. “I guess I'll just have to start my own rival demonic corporation.”

Su Yao pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just, go watch your anime. And do not, under any circumstances, respond to any more HR emails.”

“Fine, fine,” Kayo pouted, phasing through the floor towards the common room. “But when I'm a CEO, you'll be sorry you doubted me!”

Su Yao was left alone with the humming analysis machines and the lingering scent of chili sauce. She had a broken mask, a world-changing recipe, a cousin who was applying for jobs with the enemy, and a missing handler.

It was, she reflected, a day to remember.