Chapter 515 - 414: The Jing City Competition

Chapter 515: Chapter 414: The Jing City Competition

The fact that she hadn’t acted meant Yang Yixue was probably just putting on a brave face, not daring to push things to a mutually destructive end.

Jiang Liu also considered other security issues.

’As for spreading rumors online, Yang Yixue wasn’t in the kindergarten’s group chat, nor had she ever added any of the teachers on WeChat.’

’Jiang Liu had always been the one to pick up Tongtong.’

’Yang Yixue would never have bothered to go.’

’Let alone join the kindergarten group chat to check up on her daughter.’

*

「Jing City Sichuan Cuisine Association.」

The restaurant was located at Sanyuan Bridge. A standalone establishment with no branches, it specialized in high-end cuisine. Its decor was elegant and impressively grand.

Zeng Shaofan, one of the famed Four Young Chefs of Jing City, was currently pacing back and forth in the one-hundred-square-meter kitchen, his hands clasped behind his back.

Woks flew in the hands of the chefs on either side, who would periodically stop to quickly wipe away sweat with a towel or rinse their hands.

Even with six air conditioners and ten exhaust fans running, the room was still unbearably stuffy. With dozens of stoves firing at once, the kitchen felt like a steam basket.

The dining hall manager stood at the doorway, repeatedly urging them on.

"Hurry it up, fellas! The guests on the third floor are getting antsy!"

"Let them wait!"

Zeng Shaofan shot a glare at the manager.

The manager sulked but didn’t dare make a peep.

This man was a master chef of Sichuan cuisine, the restaurant’s crown jewel. If he were to leave, the entire massive restaurant would go out of business.

Besides, the man had a fiery temper; he’d give you ten words for every one of yours. It wasn’t worth provoking him over something so trivial.

"Station Five! These green beans are overcooked. How can you serve them to a customer when they’re this limp? Do it again!"

"Station Fifteen, do it over! What is this crap you call Sichuan peppercorn chicken? Where’s the numbness? Did you feed the peppercorns to a dog?"

"Station Eighteen, take it back and do it again! The chicken in this spicy diced chicken is overcooked. It’s tough and dry!"

The chefs were miserable.

It was hell working for this guy; not a single flaw could get past him.

No one dared say a word; they could only sullenly start over.

Zeng Shaofan was dark-skinned and powerfully built, with a large, shiny bald head. He had thick, black eyebrows and a face full of surly flesh, making him look like a vicious murderer.

Just then, a waiter rushed in carrying a plate of beef and offal in chili sauce.

"Chef Zeng! The customer in the private room upstairs sent the dish back again."

"They sent it back again?"

Zeng Shaofan was getting angry. He took the plate of beef and offal in chili sauce and tasted a bite.

The ingredients were fresh and tender, the flavor fragrant and spicy.

’There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it.’

He had even personally remade this plate of beef and offal in chili sauce after it was sent back the first time.

The waiter asked nervously, "What should we do, Chef Zeng? Remake it, or...?"

"You can go. Which private room is that customer in?"

"Room 8."

"Okay, I’ve got it. I’ll go ask them myself what the problem is."

Zeng Shaofan was already convinced the customer was deliberately trying to stir up trouble.

His beef and offal in chili sauce was considered one of the top ten in all of Hua Country.

Either the customer had no taste, or they were deliberately making a scene.

’It couldn’t possibly be his fault!’

Zeng Shaofan stomped up to the second floor.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. He rapped on the door.

A slightly hoarse voice called from within, "Come in."

"Hello, gentlemen. I’d like to ask what the problem was with the beef and offal in chili sauce."

Zeng Shaofan said, sizing up the two men before him.

One was a portly, mixed-race man; the other, a thin, middle-aged man with an indifferent expression.

The two were none other than Morse and Fu Yuan.

Fu Yuan shook his head. "The problems are huge. Frankly, your Sichuan cuisine is dreadful. This has been my worst dining experience ever."

’??’ Zeng Shaofan froze on the spot.

’Unbelievable.’

’A nationally renowned Sichuan restaurant, and you’re calling it the worst?’

’Careful you don’t sprain your tongue with all that hot air!’

Zeng Shaofan tried to keep his cool and said calmly:

"Sir, this establishment is one of the most famous and authentic Sichuan restaurants in all of Huaxia. If even our food isn’t to your liking, I’m afraid you won’t find a single satisfactory dish in the entire country, will you?"

The jab was laced with sarcasm.

"Heh, a frog at the bottom of a well." Fu Yuan shot back rudely. "I’m telling the truth. The Sichuan cuisine at your restaurant really isn’t anything special."

He finished with a slight smile.

An uncontrollable tic started in Zeng Shaofan’s cheek.

The man’s matter-of-fact tone and the disdain in his eyes made Zeng Shaofan’s blood boil.

"If you’re not satisfied, please feel free to take your business elsewhere. This meal is on the house, but we will not be serving you two again."

He said this, suspecting they were just being deliberately obnoxious.

He was blacklisting them on the spot.

Fu Yuan stood up, his expression impassive. As he turned to leave, he suddenly remarked, "And they call this the best Sichuan food in Jing City? I could cook better with my feet."

"Mr. Mo, don’t play this kind of prank on me next time. It’s not funny at all!"

Morse feigned a wry smile. "I didn’t expect this place to be such garbage either. Oh well."

The two went back and forth in a well-rehearsed act.

They were blatantly humiliating Zeng Shaofan to his face.

Zeng Shaofan, being hot-tempered, immediately fired back:

"Sir, since you claim you can cook Sichuan food better than me, how about we have a competition? If you lose, not only will you pay for today’s meal, you will also apologize to me in front of everyone! What do you say?"

He had expected the man to lose his nerve and refuse.

But to his surprise, Fu Yuan nodded immediately. "That’s a fine proposal. I accept. But what happens if I win?"

Zeng Shaofan was stunned.

’He actually dared to accept?’

It was completely unexpected; his mind went blank for a second.

But Zeng Shaofan quickly recovered. His confidence in his own mastery of Sichuan cuisine made him certain he wouldn’t lose.

"If you win..." Zeng Shaofan thought for a moment. "I’ll apologize to you in front of everyone and compensate you with ten thousand yuan for your troubles."

Ten thousand yuan was his salary for a week.

He thought that was a decent compensation.

"Hehehe." Fu Yuan laughed.

"Ten thousand? You must be joking."

Zeng Shaofan frowned. "Then what do you propose?"

"How about this: I don’t want your money. If you lose, you have to tell all your customers that your Sichuan cuisine is inferior to mine. You also have to post a video of this competition on your official social media account."

Fu Yuan finished, then shook his head. "If you don’t have the guts, then just forget it. You really are subpar, and I can’t be bothered competing with someone of your caliber."

Zeng Shaofan had been hesitating, but those words were the last straw. "I accept," he said immediately. "Right now?"

"Mm."

"What are the rules?"

Fu Yuan said casually, "Let’s keep it simple. You make a Sichuan dish, and I’ll make the same one. We’ll pick a few customers at random to judge. A single round will decide the winner."

’Whatever I make, you’ll make? How arrogant.’ Zeng Shaofan wanted to laugh.

Before, he suspected this person was here to make trouble.

Now he was certain.

This was just some clueless fool who had learned a trick or two somewhere and had no idea what he was getting into.

"Fine. No problem."

The three of them went downstairs.

They announced the competition to the customers dining in the main hall.

The wealthy Jing City patrons who were dining there immediately perked up with interest.

They began discussing it in twos and threes.

"Interesting. To think someone would dare challenge Head Chef Zeng to a Sichuan cook-off these days. That guy must be dying to get famous."

"No kidding. Now, if it were Boss Jiang or Elder Yu, that would be something worth watching."