Chapter Forty: Promising

Chef Luo truly had real skills, and after being provoked by Sixth Uncle, he was even more determined, putting forth all his effort and using every bit of his craft to show these villagers from the foothill village what he was truly capable of.

...

As the saying goes, “Food cannot be too refined, nor minced meat too finely cut.” To make something edible, or even delicious, is not so difficult; the real challenge lies in achieving meticulous perfection not only in taste but also in sight, smell, and even artistic conception. This is the distinction between a mere cook and a true master chef.

Chef Luo’s reputation across the entire region of Fangzhou was built precisely on such meticulous craftsmanship. For this meal, he personally went to the city to purchase ingredients. Upon returning, he attended to everything himself—from preparing the vegetables, to the knife work, to cooking—leaving only the washing of vegetables and adding of firewood to Li Wenbo.

When the sumptuous feast was finally brought out and placed on the table, everyone was left speechless.

“My heavens!” Sixth Uncle’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “Is this really meant for people to eat?”

Every dish, whether raw or cooked, was exquisitely crafted and visually stunning. The fish sashimi looked like a plate of jade. Fresh fish was deboned and skinned, leaving only the gleaming, translucent white flesh. Even more impressive, Chef Luo had sliced the fish so thinly it was almost transparent, as delicate as cicada wings.

The plate was adorned with emerald greens and bright red sauce, making even Sixth Uncle hesitate to pick up his chopsticks.

Even the most ordinary dish—a simple radish soup—left Sixth Uncle dumbfounded. The milky broth floated with a dozen crimson cornelian cherries and a few bright green leaves, making it strikingly attractive.

But what was most remarkable was that instead of slicing the radish, Chef Luo had carved them into lotus flowers, which floated in the soup as if a spring pond had been served at the table.

...

Seeing their awe-struck faces, Chef Luo was immensely proud. Look down on me, will you? Now you know better.

Standing aside, he snorted disdainfully, “Well? Is this meal worth the five strings of cash you’re paying me?”

The patriarch nodded slowly, “Not bad.”

Chef Luo pursed his lips, even more smug—how could it be merely ‘not bad’?

“Truly excellent!”

“Wonderful!!”

With the patriarch’s repeated praise, Chef Luo thought, now that’s more like it.

Unfortunately, before he could fully bask in his triumph, he saw the patriarch, while complimenting, turn to look at Wu Ning.

“Ninth son, well done—you’ve really made something of yourself!”

What?

Chef Luo almost choked. He’d done all the cooking, so why praise someone else?

“Of course,” Sixth Uncle chimed in.

“I saw long ago that Ninth Son would do well, and I wasn’t wrong—he’s even brought back the chef from Emerald Fragrance Pavilion.”

...

“Exactly!” Fifth Uncle added. “It shows that all these years we haven’t spoiled this rascal for nothing!”

“Otherwise, how would farmers like us ever get to taste food served by the chef of Emerald Fragrance Pavilion?”

...

“Come, come!” Seventh Brother was equally delighted, pouring wine all around and saying to Wu Ning, “In the future, I might have to rely on you for support, Ninth Brother!”

“Let’s drink!”

The jar of mild wine made its rounds, and when it was empty, the jar was shoved into Chef Luo’s hands. “Go fetch more wine!”

Luo Li: “...”

“Go on!” Seventh Brother, seeing Chef Luo’s blackened, twisted face, thought he must be exhausted from preparing so many dishes.

“Well then, after you bring the wine, go to the kitchen and find something to eat. No need to stand here.”

Luo Li: “...”

“Don’t worry!” Seventh Brother added, “Our Ninth Son isn’t stingy—eat whatever you like, no need for courtesy.”

“...”

...

Chef Luo almost wanted to return Wu Ninth Son’s money—he was done with this job.

Damn it, these country bumpkins were insufferable!

...

——————

The patriarch paid no mind to Chef Luo’s darkening face; country folk were straightforward and honest. Since Wu Ning had paid to hire him, he was no different from a servant in the house—do whatever you’re told.

Besides, this surly chef had been acting high and mighty since he arrived and clearly needed to be put in his place.

Ignoring Chef Luo, the patriarch sipped wine and turned to Wu Ning.

“Ninth Son, you’ve gone to such lengths and spent so much money. Just don’t end up losing out in the end.”

In truth, the patriarch’s main concern with Chef Luo was the five strings of cash.

“There’s no need to worry,” Wu Ning replied. “I won’t lose out.”

“How so?”

“Think about it: the imperial envoy will arrive in Fangzhou soon, and I hear he won’t just stay for a short while but for half a year or even longer.”

“When that happens, not only will the accompanying officials stay in Fangzhou, but scholars and literati from other provinces will flock here as well.”

“By then, there will be no shortage of business for inns.”

“Moreover,” he said, gesturing to their small courtyard, “even if our guesthouse isn’t the finest in Fangzhou, it’s certainly the most unique.”

...

He pointed to Chef Luo. “And the food—without question, it’s the best. If we don’t make money, who will?”

“Hmm,” the patriarch nodded. “That does sound reasonable.”

“Oh, Father, you really shouldn’t worry so much,” Fifth Uncle said, eating as he tried to comfort his father. “Ninth Son knows the ins and outs of this business better than any of us. Trust him!”

“That’s right!” Sixth Uncle agreed. “Fifth Brother’s right, you should just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Fifth and Sixth Uncles had tasted the benefits already—even though the patriarch had forced their room rates down to a hundred coins per night, their inns had still made a good profit since opening.

This time, they were truly benefiting from Wu Ning’s resourcefulness, so how could they not support him?

Still, could anyone really keep the patriarch from meddling?

At their words, the old man immediately bristled. “What? I’ll always be the family patriarch—if he doesn’t listen to me, who should he listen to?”

“Yes, yes!” Wu Ning quickly soothed him. “You’re the leader of the foothill village—without you overseeing things, how could we manage?”

“Hear that!” The old man swelled with pride and downed a large bowl of wine.

“Hey, you there!” he bellowed, holding up his wine bowl, “That chef—where’s the wine!? Where did you take it!?”

Luo Li: “...”

That’s it, I quit! After this month, I’m done for good.

...

————————

“Ninth Brother,” during the meal, Seventh Brother switched seats with Wu Li and sat next to Wu Ning.

“Now that Fifth and Sixth Uncles’ inns are open, I discussed with my wife and family yesterday—could I borrow some money from you to fix up our courtyard as well?”

“Of course!” Wu Ning agreed without hesitation.

Seventh Brother was a registered soldier, but unlike Fourth Uncle, he had no military merit and hadn’t been granted any land. His family’s fields were few, and life was very tight.

“But you’ll have to wait a while.”

“Ah?” Seventh Brother was surprised and hesitated, “Is it because...”

“Oh!” Wu Ning smacked his forehead. “Look at you, always so quick to understand. Let’s wait until your businesses are more stable—there’s no rush!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Wu Ning rolled his eyes. “What, do you think I’m afraid of a little competition from you?”

He pointed to Li Wenbo, who was eating with Chef Luo in the kitchen. “It’s because of him.”

...