In the kitchen, Stan worked with quiet efficiency. He heated a clean pan and rendered a small amount of ordinary cooking oil, then added thin slices of the polar-bear muscle meat, nothing from the organs, alongside fresh vegetables, a touch of garlic, and a carefully measured drop of liquid Qi.
The Qi was diluted enough to be beneficial without any risk. The meat seared quickly, releasing a rich but approachable aroma that was far milder than the earlier dish.
Within minutes he had a balanced, fragrant plate ready: tender slices of meat over lightly seasoned greens and rice, the faint resonance of Qi woven so subtly into the flavors that only someone sensitive would notice it at all.
While he cooked, the living room fell into an uncomfortable silence.
