Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

The lower kitchens stayed noisy long after the first noodle pots emptied.

By midday, three preparation tables had been claimed for dough work, and none of the workers seemed ready to admit how quickly the process could go wrong. One batch came out too thick while another dissolved halfway through boiling before it even reached the serving bowls. Someone near the rear hearth managed to produce something with the texture of damp bread paste before Elder Bran confiscated the entire bowl and ordered the counter to start again.

Nia leaned against one of the counters watching the disaster unfold while finishing the last of her broth.

“You folded the dough too early,” Nia told one of the assistants while pressing one finger into the surface. “The colder flour still needs time to loosen after kneading, otherwise you end up fighting the dough the entire time you roll it.”

The assistant frowned down at the bowl. “I thought the covering mattered more than the time.”

“It matters if you actually wait longer than three breaths.”

He looked toward the covered bowl as if it had personally failed him, then reached for the cloth again.

Across the kitchens, another worker argued that thinner noodles cooked faster while someone else insisted thicker strips held broth better during storms. The disagreement had somehow spread into a discussion involving winter travel rations, soup density, and whether food should survive being dropped in snow.

Nia had stopped trying to follow the conversation after somebody connected noodle thickness to emergency rope packs for winter travel.

Shen moved beside her carrying another tray of cleaned bowls toward the preparation counters.

“They’ve accepted the noodles,” he said.

“They’ve turned this into an argument already.”

“People settle into disagreements quickly here once food gets involved.”

“With food or with everything?”

“With food, grain, wall repairs, rope knots, watch rotations, and anything Elder Bran believes someone else is handling poorly.”

Nia glanced toward the rear tables where Elder Bran was correcting someone’s flour dusting technique with the same severe concentration he brought to every kitchen task.

“I understand the kitchens better now.”

Shen set the tray down within reach of the workers trying to portion the next batch. “It also explains why the mountain is still standing.”

Steam rolled steadily through the lower chambers beneath the scent of broth, damp grain, and heated stone while workers crossed between hearths carrying bowls, flour sacks, and bundles of dried greens toward the preparation fires. The afternoon meal preparations gradually overtook the morning experimentation, though several workers still tried sneaking noodle tests onto unused corners of the preparation fires whenever Elder Bran looked elsewhere.

Somewhere near the western corridor, one of the workers announced that a batch had finally survived boiling without dissolving. Elder Bran crossed half the kitchens to inspect it himself before declaring the strips too thick to cook evenly.

Nia snorted softly into her bowl.

Shen set another stack of bowls beside the counter before glancing toward the workers still attempting fresh batches. “They’re taking it seriously now.”

Nia watched someone ruin another strip of dough near the far hearth before reaching for too much flour again. “Elder Bran would probably say I turned one recipe into three new kitchen problems.”

“He would still keep making it.”

Nia watched one of the younger workers carefully fold a sheet of dough the way she had shown him earlier. His fingers moved too quickly at first, then slowed after the woman beside him tapped the back of his hand with a flour-covered spoon.

“At least they care enough to keep trying,” she admitted.

Shen looked toward the same counter for a moment before reaching for a stack of clean bowls. “You looked pleased when they started arguing over thickness.”

“I was pleased before someone brought up whether noodles should survive being dropped outside.”

“People carry food outside during storms. They think about those things.”

“Nobody should be throwing noodles into snow for structural testing.”

Shen’s mouth shifted faintly, but he continued stacking bowls without stopping his hands.

Her shoulders still felt tight from the morning, though the ache had faded beneath the constant warmth of the kitchens. The heavier braids rested thick across her back now, swinging against her hips when she moved between tables.

One of the older kitchen workers caught her sleeve before she passed.

“The dough sticks less if we leave it near the warming stones first,” the woman said, gesturing toward one of the side hearths. “The colder batches tear easier when we roll them thin.”

Nia stopped immediately. “Show me.”

The woman led her toward a covered bowl resting near the heated stonework. Nia crouched beside it and pressed one finger lightly into the dough.

The surface stretched more smoothly beneath her touch.

The worker watched her press the dough again before folding both arms loosely across her apron. “You start staring at the bowls like that whenever you notice something useful.”

“I’m checking the texture.”

Nia ignored that while pressing the dough again. The warmth helped enough to matter, even if it could not fully compensate for the flour’s lower elasticity. If the dough stayed warmer while resting, she could probably roll it thinner without tearing the surface so quickly. The flour might still need longer kneading and slightly different water ratios, though.

Shen crouched beside her a moment later.

“You found something.”

“The temperature changes the elasticity.”

“That matters?”

“It matters a lot.”

Nia looked toward the nearest hearth while she mentally rearranged the process around warmer resting dough, longer kneading, and less flour scattered across the rolling surface.

Shen watched her hand hover near the bowl. “You’re planning another batch.”

“I’m thinking about how to keep the texture consistent.”

“That answer will worry Elder Bran.”

“He noticed the grain problems faster than everyone else did.”

By late afternoon, the kitchens had settled into something closer to normal rhythm. The second meal rotation filled the lower chambers with workers coming in from the outer maintenance routes while the earlier preparation chaos disappeared beneath steady meal service.

Nia helped portion broth for nearly an hour before Elder Bran finally shoved a folded cloth into her hands.

“You missed midday rest.”

“I was helping.”

“You were teaching three people to disagree with my flour storage system.”

“They were asking good questions.”

“They were asking whether noodle thickness should be recorded beside storm ration notes.” Elder Bran pointed the cloth toward the outer corridor before returning to the cutting board. “Leave before somebody starts packing noodles into winter rations.”

Nia held the ladle another moment. “You say that like nobody’s already considering it.”

“It is until tomorrow.”

She looked at his face, decided she preferred keeping kitchen access, and surrendered the ladle.

The corridor outside the kitchens felt colder after hours spent beside the preparation fires. Heat no longer reached this far through the mountain passages as strongly, especially with workers constantly moving between the exterior maintenance routes and the lower chambers. Every time one of the heavier corridor coverings opened, another rush of winter air swept briefly through the stone halls.

Nia adjusted the thicker shawl around her shoulders while Shen fell into step beside her.

The residential passages still carried steady traffic this time of day. Workers rotated between assignments carrying repair tools, bundled rope, heating stones, crates of preserved food, and armfuls of heavy blankets toward the upper levels.

Fragments of conversation drifted through the corridor traffic.

“—north channel still frozen near the lower bend—”

“—the western supports need another inspection before nightfall—”

“—if the winds shift again—”

Nia glanced sideways at Shen.

“Has anyone slept properly since the storm started?”

“Not much,” Shen admitted after a moment. “Most of the maintenance crews rotate in shorter shifts during storms, but somebody still has to keep the channels open.”

Nia adjusted the shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “That still feels like a terrible way to survive winter.”

“It is tiring,” Shen said. “But frozen channels become everyone’s problem if they stay blocked too long.”

They climbed gradually toward the residential levels while warmer air returned in uneven waves through the upper passages. Nia noticed more heating braziers placed along the walls than usual. Several workers paused near one now warming stiff hands over the coals before continuing deeper into the mountain.

Further ahead, two younger workers carried folded furs toward one of the communal sleeping chambers.

The mountain had shifted fully into winter management, where every day seemed to involve another adjustment somewhere inside the tunnels, storage routes, heating systems, or runoff channels. Nothing stayed settled long enough during deep winter for people to relax completely.

By the time they reached the household chambers, dusk had already settled somewhere beyond the mountain.

The room felt quieter than the kitchens after a full day beneath constant noise. The hearth crackled steadily near the center stones while softer light spread across the bedding platform and surrounding walls.

Steam drifted faintly through the room when Nia stepped inside, enough that she immediately looked toward the bathing alcove before turning slowly toward Shen.

“You heated water again.”

Shen removed his outer gloves calmly. “The upper channels thawed enough for another full draw.”

“You’ve started sounding personally responsible for the water channels.”

“I watched the timing.”

“That still feels very similar.”

“It involved less negotiation than you’re imagining.”

Nia narrowed her eyes at him for another moment before giving up and crossing toward the bathing alcove while the basin was still hot.

The warmer air hit her first, carrying clean steam, heated stone, and the faint oil blend Shen had started warming near the hearth lately.

The large bathing basin was full. Steam curled steadily upward across the stone edges while fresh heating stones rested secured beneath the lower channels to maintain temperature.

The small sound escaped before Nia could stop it.

Behind her, Shen leaned one shoulder lightly against the alcove entrance.

“The lower kitchens used less draw today,” he said. “Elder Bran shifted several preparation fires after the morning crowd, so the household level had enough warmed water before the evening maintenance crews needed the upper lines again.”

Nia looked back at him slowly.

“You tracked heating distribution so I could take another bath.”

“I adjusted timing.”

“Shen.”

His gaze stayed steady on hers. “You were on your feet all day after barely sleeping before dawn.”

Nia looked at him for another moment before exhaling quietly and turning back toward the basin.

Full baths still happened rarely enough that she noticed immediately whenever one appeared, especially lately now that Shen had quietly started adjusting heating schedules around her routines whenever the upper channels allowed it.

The mountain took heated water seriously because winter made everything involving warmth labor-intensive. Every heated basin required water hauling, heating stones, fuel management, careful timing, channel maintenance, and enough labor rotation to keep the entire system running through winter.

Nia stepped closer toward the basin while steam rolled gently upward against her face.

The kitchens had kept her moving constantly for hours. Hours of kneading, lifting, standing, and reaching across crowded preparation counters had finally caught up to her muscles. Combined with the earlier hair work, her shoulders and lower back had started protesting properly.

She touched the edge of the basin carefully. The water stayed hot without crossing into the uncomfortable heat the mountain workers seemed capable of tolerating.

“You already tested the temperature,” she said without turning.

“You complain every time the water overheats.”

“Somebody has to maintain standards,” Nia said while loosening the ties near one wrist.

Shen folded another cloth beside the basin. “You mention those standards very consistently.”

Nia smiled despite herself and started unfastening the heavier outer layers near her shoulders.

Behind her, Shen crossed quietly toward the shelving alcove. He moved calmly through the alcove gathering folded cloths, fresh oils, and one of the thicker drying wraps warmed earlier near the hearth.

Nia watched him briefly over one shoulder while loosening the ties near her wrists.

Lately she had started noticing the smaller adjustments most clearly during quieter moments like this, when the kitchens, corridors, and constant movement finally stopped long enough for her to realize how often Shen quietly rearranged comfort around her before she asked for it.

Outside the household chambers, distant footsteps passed through the residential corridors. Somewhere farther down the mountain, workers were probably still clearing frozen runoff channels before night temperatures dropped harder.

Inside the alcove, steam softened the edges of everything.

Nia sank slowly into the water with a long exhale.

Heat spread heavily through her shoulders and lower back once she settled fully against the stone, and the relief escaped her mouth before she thought about it.

“Oh, thank God.”

Shen’s quiet amusement carried from somewhere behind her.

“You say that every bath now.”

“Because hot water keeps feeling unfairly good.”

“I still don’t know where half your phrases come from.”

Nia laughed softly and leaned farther back against the heated stone.

Steam curled upward around the ends of her braids where several thicker sections rested outside the basin across folded cloths.

The mountain always seemed quieter during baths, or maybe the silence only stood out more once the kitchens and corridor traffic faded farther away. Here, the sounds reduced to faint movement beyond the household chambers while water shifted softly against stone and warmth settled steadily through her body.

Shen moved somewhere nearby preparing another cloth.

Nia opened one eye toward him while sinking slightly deeper into the heated water. “You’re not planning to reorganize my hair again, are you.”

“I learned my lesson after the last time.”

“You’re going to try again eventually, aren’t you.”

“You said I nearly ruined an entire section of curls.”

“You separated curls from the wrong direction.”

“You corrected the issue.”

“After suffering.”

Shen handed over one of the warmed cloths.

Nia pressed it against the back of her neck with a quiet groan. The heat settled through the base of her neck almost immediately.

She let her head tip back briefly against the stone.

Warmth continued loosening the remaining tension in her shoulders while steam gathered softly along the lower curves of the alcove ceiling.

Shen settled near the edge of the bathing platform a moment later, one knee bent loosely while he adjusted another heating stone beneath the lower channels.

“You stayed lower in the mountain?” he asked.

“Kael said almost the same thing earlier.”

“He was right.”

“You both enjoy agreeing when it lets you tell me where not to climb.”

“We both knew you were going to ignore the warning otherwise,” Shen said.

“That still feels unfair when both of you agree together.”

Shen’s mouth shifted faintly.

Nia watched steam drift upward through the warmer air between them.

The household room beyond the alcove remained quiet while Kael still had not returned from the upper maintenance routes. He was probably still dealing with another frozen support issue or runoff inspection somewhere along the upper corridors if the maintenance crews were running this late.

Nia frowned slightly toward the water.

“He skipped another meal, didn’t he.”

Shen’s pause lasted long enough that she understood the answer before he said anything.

Nia sighed.

“One day he’s going to forget meals completely and try surviving on snow alone.”

“That would explain a few things.”

Nia laughed hard enough to splash water against the side of the basin while Shen adjusted another cloth near the edge and the sound faded gradually back into the quieter rhythm of moving water and steam.

Outside, winter continued pressing against Hearthfang while warmth gathered through stone, water, steam, and familiar movement inside the household chambers as the mountain settled gradually toward night.

Nia https://imgur.com/a/16VXwvI

Nia w/ braids https://imgur.com/a/Y0IWr7K

Kael https://imgur.com/a/hy9mPAz ( I know the name of the tribe/mountain is wrong here I'll corrected it in future pics)

Shen https://imgur.com/a/lcuyive

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!