Chapter Sixty-Five: A Blade That Strikes the Heart

My “Battle of Wills” with Lei Ren was entirely different from my previous contest with Zhao Shuihe.

This time, it was far more formal and charged with tension.

After both sides signed and sealed the agreement, Zhao Shuihe, as the witness, went to the kitchen and brought out two cleavers. After we inspected them and confirmed their authenticity, she placed a hundred grams of pork fat on each blade.

Then, she and Zhao Hong stood on either side of us, lighting a “petroleum white candle” for both me and Lei Ren, and prepared to blindfold our eyes.

Before the blindfolds were tied, we had one last chance to confirm the placement of the pork fat and candles.

I furrowed my brow, studying the cleaver and the pork fat on it.

The cleaver was excellent—clearly a “Yinjiang Eighteen Sons” “Wenwu Cleaver.” The blade had a slight curve and a smooth surface. Made of stainless steel, it was a modern craft knife.

The fat was equally good: the “white-cut large fat” from the hind leg of a pig. This type of fat was square, rich in oil, heated evenly, and burned without easily charring.

Looking at the cleaver and the square block of pork fat, a smile crept into my heart. I already had a plan.

I knew stainless steel blades were light and thin, which meant their heat conduction was superior to traditional iron knives, so the pork fat would melt faster. The petroleum candle’s flame was akin to a “simmering fire,” small but steady. Usually, the blade’s “heat zone” was about three centimeters. Taking into account indoor airflow and possible disturbances...

After careful calculation, the plan in my mind was clear.

Having the plan gave me confidence and strategy, so I was no longer afraid.

Therefore, I smiled faintly at Zhao Shuihe and said, “Shuihe, put the blindfold on me.”

Zhao Shuihe was a little surprised at my confidence and asked, “Are you sure after such a short preparation?”

I nodded, glanced at Lei Ren, and then, with a hint of sarcasm, said to Zhao Shuihe, “If I’m not confident, then others are even less so.”

Lei Ren wasn’t angry at my words. Holding his cleaver, he stroked his beard and said, “‘Maoli’—sarcasm is not the way of a gentleman.”

I chuckled in response.

Talk of gentlemen with a butcher from the Confucius Temple? Did he deserve it? I had read the Doctrine of the Mean. What did he know?

Confucius had long said, the greatest principle of a gentleman is to “act according to one’s rank.” Simply put, when facing scoundrels, one must be even more unscrupulous; when facing the ruthless, one must be even more ruthless.

So I retorted, “To act according to one’s rank, unwavering in purpose—that is the true gentleman.”

After speaking, I tilted my head with a smile and ignored him. Signaling Zhao Shuihe again, she tightly wrapped a thick, three-layered fine linen cloth over my eyes.

Instantly, the world darkened, and in the chaos, only my heart remained.

The “knife and fire, one heart” challenge began.

In the darkness, my mind, aided by smell and hearing, raced with calculations.

Legend says the inventor of “knife and fire, one heart” was not a chef but the brilliant Confucian sage Wang Shouren of the Ming dynasty. He created this contest to teach his military cooks and students to remain calm in danger, to discipline mind and matter.

Thus, “knife and fire, one heart” was one of the most comprehensive tests in the “Battle of Wills.” Though it ostensibly tested only fire skills, it also examined knife skills and mental fortitude.

Could such a sage’s challenge bear so much philosophy and learning? Of course. Not only that—it was profound.

Technically, if the knife was unstable, the pork fat would shift, and death was certain. Philosophically, if the mind was impure, one could not accurately time the moments, and death was certain.

With the knife beneath the fat, fire within the heart, the “knife and fire, one heart” stood unmoving as a mountain.

This was the highest realm of culinary fire mastery.

In this test, more than competing with knife and fire, Lei Ren and I were battling wills, within the cosmic balance of yin and yang and the five elements.

In this darkness of yin-yang and elemental harmony, my heart was calm and steady, my breath composed and idle.

Suddenly, the stillness of autumn water in my heart rippled gently. The ripples drifted slowly, spreading out, gradually taking shape in my mind alongside the scent of burning fat and breathing sounds—the image of my Yinjiang cleaver.

The knife in my hand and the knife in my heart overlapped perfectly.

All was clear in my heart.

Inside, I knew the blade tip tempered the fat, but also my heart. Using the mind to count, the I Ching to guide, the process would flow.

Immediately, I knew what to do.

Blocking out all distractions, I focused my “mind’s eye” quietly on the blade, silently counting the numbers I had long calculated.

“One, two, three...”

When I reached “forty-nine,” I exhaled deeply, withdrew the cleaver from the candle’s flame, and shifted the mental image of the knife away from the candle’s fire.

The two phantom blades vanished instantly.

The silence between heaven and earth vanished as well, replaced by the varied breathing of the onlookers and the crackling of Zhao Shuihe munching sunflower seeds and sipping tea.

That young girl was clearly enjoying the show.

I didn’t immediately remove my blindfold to inspect the blade but waited for the cleaver to cool and the pork fat to solidify and whiten again.

Only then would my hands’ tremors not distort the fat’s shape or cause it to fall off.

After about a dozen seconds, as the last embers in my heart died, I followed the feeling and pulled the cloth away.

Together with the crowd, I looked at the cleaver coated with pork fat.

The area of fat on the blade matched my mental image perfectly—down to the slightest detail!

One entire side of the blade was evenly coated with white pork fat. At the edge of the blade, the fat formed a delicate “film.” Due to this film’s restraint, not a drop had spilled onto the back or sides of the cleaver.

In other words, one entire side of the blade was 100% covered in fat.

I knew—I had won.

Even if Lei Ren matched me, he could only draw at best. In the future, I held the upper hand in both logic and temperament, and he would have no choice but to retreat with his tail between his legs.

Just as I was basking in my pride, Zhao Hong leaned over and nudged me. “How did you do it? Not a second off. If you had lifted the knife a second later, all the fat would have melted and flowed off.”

I smiled and pointed to my heart. “Six years of fire control training didn’t go to waste. Besides, I can’t let the Confucius Temple or the old squad leader down!”

Zhao Hong said nothing but gave me an admiring thumbs-up.

I smiled back and turned my gaze to Lei Ren, who was still blindfolded and continuing to roast his pork fat.

At first, I hadn’t paid him much mind, but when I looked closely, I was stunned—my confidence in certain victory vanished instantly.

Because now, blindfolded Lei Ren... was dancing!