Chapter 54

“Fire, four more wings to the table!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“I need one more pot for the noodles. Little Jiao, get me a pot right away!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Where are we at with those chicken fillets? Take them out of the marinade, and kindle the extra stove. Little Chuanli, I need my wok cleaned!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Good, team, keep up the rhythm!”

Lei moved around the stations like a fish in the sea, checking the plates and keeping track of the dishes. Most of them he’d prepared himself, letting the kids only deal with the basic steps. Now and then, he made a final touch—a sprinkle of salt here, a pinch of pepper there.

It was chaos in the kitchen, but Lei could see the smiles on the little cooks’ faces.

Moving on, he glazed the wings cooking over the grill, nodding as he heard the satisfying sizzle over the burning wood. On the side, the plating was coming along.

“Little Yunru, don’t forget to wipe the plates. It’s good practice,” he said when he saw marks on the freshly brought plate.

Little Yunru wiped the dots right away, his face a map of focus.

Lei clapped him on the shoulder and placed the grilled wings gently on the plate. Sweat poured down the side of his face. It always got hot around the kitchen, but damn, he missed it. It was the good kind of hot, the kind that pushed you toward perfection.

“Hands. I need hands!” he yelled after placing the last wing on the plate.

Xie Yanyu bolted through the door, gave him a nod, and took the plate, vanishing into the main hall a second later. They were still on the first course, which meant the feast had just started, and yet people kept asking for wings as if there was nothing else to eat.

“Brother He!” Lei called to the man as he barged in, carrying empty plates. He grabbed him by the arm and yanked him closer to the counter. “We don’t have any wings left. Tell the guests we’re moving on to the second course!”

The man flinched back, but Lei didn’t let him go until he got a nod. With that, he grabbed a ladle and smiled at Little Chuanli as the boy put the freshly cleaned wok over the stove.

“Get me those mushrooms,” Lei said, pointing at the container to the right.

Little Chuanli dashed across the kitchen as Lei slapped a good amount of oil into the wok. The first sizzle let him know it was decently heated. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, swirling the oil inside the wok to let it spread evenly. Not long after, Little Chuanli poured the chopped mushrooms into the wok.

“Give it a little shake,” Lei said, one hand clasped tightly around the wok’s handle. He let the mushrooms fly and dance for a bit before adding the kimchi. He stir-fried the mix for about two minutes, adding the kimchi juice, stock, and a touch of sugar. It took him longer than he would’ve liked to find the sesame oil in the mess, but he found it eventually.

He left the wok to boil as he stepped back, surveying the chaotic order in the kitchen.

“Chefs, are we going to do this or what?” he yelled.

“Yes, Chef!” came the loud response.

“Good!” Lei snapped his fingers.

You only get to call yourself a chef when you’ve heard the word from another chef’s mouth. It was the kind of recognition that made age meaningless. It was the work around the kitchen—the honest sweat trickling down your neck, the pinpoint focus, the care with which you tended your ingredients—that earned you the apron.

And these kids were earning it.

There was something about watching his little team weave through the throng. He’d never tasted this feeling before, and now, he wasn’t sure if he could live without it. Being a head chef was like riding high on cloud nine for hours.

The kitchen door creaked open, and Fatty Lou strolled inside with a wide grin on his face. That grin quickly turned into a confused scowl as he saw the state of the kitchen. It was a little... messy, Lei had to admit.

“The bastards devoured the wings!” Fatty Lou banged a fist into his open palm. “I saw two of them crunching down on those bones. Crazy, but I say it’s a good kind of crazy, eh, Chef?”

“Yes, Chef,” Lei said, taking a moment to breathe. “We’ve got a highly motivated team here. I’m damn proud of them. Look at them go.”

“Mmm,” Fatty Lou said, clearly impressed by the discipline of the little brats. “Guess they’ve learned from the best, huh?”

That made Lei chuckle as the tension slipped from his shoulders. Cooking for two dozen people wasn’t easy, but thankfully, Lei had come up with a simple menu that let him divide the labor.

Wings to start. Then kimchi ramen, boiled to perfection with organic cabbage—hot and spicy. He wouldn’t let the guests relax, though, as the main course, spirited fried rice with a side of marinated chicken fillets, would follow shortly after.

That would knock their socks off. No one would forget tonight’s experience.

“How’s the mood in the main hall?” he asked, finding a rare moment of peace in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but feel curious, as they were hosting Jiangzhen’s heavyweights at the dinner.

“Hard to say,” Fatty Lou said, his tone strange. “There’s some tension, but the wings helped. That one guy—the Commissioner of Taxes, Ding Yan—keeps blabbing on and on. Quite the sight, really. I always thought he was a bit of a loser.”

“That’s what we want, though, no?” Lei asked. “We want to keep the mood up and jolly. We need them talking. We need them to relax here. These are mighty men who do heavy work, don’t they? If they can find comfort in our restaurant, it will prove to other cultivators that this is their go-to place after, I don’t know, a day of gruesome cultivation?”

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“You’re not wrong,” Fatty Lou said. “People will hear about us after tonight’s dinner, for sure. But... you’ve seen it for yourself. These people aren’t what we expected. Most of them don’t give a damn about each other. Actually, I’d say they hate each other’s guts.”

“That’s a plus for us.” Lei leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “It means division in their ranks—something we can use to learn more about the Governor.”

“I don’t know, Brother Lei. If this restaurant holds up, which it seems like it will, we won’t need to worry about those bastards anymore. We can just live our lives. There are sects and an academy near Lanzhou. The kids will do fine there.”

Lei shook his head. “I know, but it feels wrong to leave things as they are. If there’s something we can do, why not do it, right? I’m not saying we should stalk these bastards and poke our noses into their plots, but we’ve already killed one of their elders. Might as well deal with the rest—or find someone who will.”

“You’re still furious,” Fatty Lou said.

Lei’s face hardened. “We have unfinished business with them. Eventually, I’ll make them pay for what they did to my boys.”

“Let’s focus on tonight, shall we?” Fatty Lou said, forcing a smile.

The door creaked open again, and a tired Xie Yanyu rushed in, her face full of panic. When her eyes landed on Lei and Fatty Lou, she let out a long sigh and hurried over.

“We need those noodles, Chef. We need them fast,” she said, exhausted. “I can’t keep up with these people. Seems the rumors were true—these folks are no different from beasts!”

Lei gave Fatty Lou a glance before turning to his team.

“Alright, chefs, we have to finish up the kimchi ramen now,” Lei said, raising a hand. “The ramen soups look ready. Little Ning, start adding the noodle strips. And I need more wood on the grill. Little Yunru, can you?”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Good. Little Jiao, get me the rice. It should be cooled by now. Where are my eggs? Eggs?”

“Here, Chef!” Little Chuanli called, busy stirring a bowl of eggs. “I’m prepping the eggs now.”

“Alright, Chef. I’ll need them in a moment,” Lei said, checking the kimchi ramen soup once again. He glanced over his shoulder at Fatty Lou and smiled. “You’d best get back, or they’ll miss you. Work your magic, Brother Lou. We need that tonight.”

“Fine,” Fatty Lou said, rolling his eyes. “But we’ll talk about your little revenge plot later. I didn’t like the look in your eyes.”

“Just like Sister Luli said, eh? The spiritual energy, this cultivation business, it slowly gets to you,” Lei sniggered. “But it gives you energy too, and I’m all for it!”

Fatty Lou shook his head and left to attend to their esteemed guests.

“We have to change the pots,” Lei said as Little Jiao started adding the noodle strips to the kimchi ramen soups. “I need them cleaned and ready. We don’t have much time!”

“Yes, Chef!”

Lei grinned foolishly as he heard the chorus of voices. He felt like a kid, and the kitchen was his playground. Oh, this here was where he belonged.

……

“And as you know, Elder Brother Hu, the city is not in a good place right now. The tax situation is a mess. We can’t let the rich carry all the weight. I know the City Guard tries its best to keep things under control, but the last report suggests that over fifty percent of the establishments in Jiangzhen are off the records. They don’t pay a single copper!”

Sun Hu banged his fist on the table, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh as people nodded to his words. He had managed to poke them where it hurt most, and that earned him at least some valuable minutes to work with.

He liked his odds better now.

“We’re trying to recruit more men, but not everyone is fit for the City Guard,” said the Head of the City Guard, Jin Longwei. His smile strained at the edge of his lips as others glanced disapprovingly at him.

Sun Hu took the hint. “You’re not at fault for this matter, Brother Longwei. I know that assault hit you the hardest. But I say the real crux of the problem is different. We’re putting too much trust in people, hoping they’ll pay their taxes. But most of them hardly know what it takes to run a city, and yet they expect service from the Governor’s Office. How are we supposed to rebuild the city if people refuse to pay their taxes? Good thing the Empire doesn’t take a cut from mortal cities.”

More nods and sighs of approval followed.

“Heavens, what did they put in these wings? I can’t seem to get enough of them!” came another voice, surprisingly from the Head Scribe, Dai Aiguo. His fingers were covered in sauce, and licking them only made it worse.

The more Sun Hu watched him, the more he came to doubt the rumors circling about him. This man was the Head Scribe, the one who served as the Hand of the Governor? The so-called leader of the loyalist group? He seemed more like a fool trying to decide what to make of his hands.

Perhaps this is your game, eh, Head Scribe? Trying to act the fool to keep the tiger hidden inside? It can work on others, but I don’t buy it.

Sun Hu shook his head, plastering a pained expression on his face as he continued, “Sooner or later, I’ll have to knock on Governor Qiang’s door. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”

“Don’t,” Mao Hu said suddenly, then cleared his throat when all the eyes turned toward him. He tried to cover his little slip with a smile. “I mean, let Little Yuan do it. He’s the one who handles all the money, after all. He can work things out.”

Sun Hu’s eyes strayed toward another young man, the one sitting beside Jin Longwei. The bastard reeked of trouble even though he’d hardly uttered a word tonight. He was also the real man in charge of the finances. Ding Yan was, all things considered, no different than an overly qualified taxman. He handled the taxes, but it was Wan Yuan who decided on the Governor’s behalf what to do with the money collected from the taxpayers.

“We’re moving on!” came a highly motivated voice as the plump man clapped his hands. He had an honest smile on his face, cheeks slightly flushed. But his eyes were a tad different from most people around Jiangzhen. They had an odd glint about them.

You know how to make a scene, don’t you?

“The second course is one of our Chef’s specials,” the man said as two servers started serving what looked like bowls filled with soup and noodles. “He calls it the Kimchi Ramen. I shall warn you that I’ve been told it’s rather spicy.”

“Oh!” Dai Aiguo smacked his lips loudly as he finished the last wing and grabbed the hot bowl with two sauce-smeared hands. He sucked in a deep breath from the smoke swirling over it and let out a satisfied grunt. “Smells heavenly!”

Curious, Sun Hu spared a glance at his own bowl as well. Though he was more than glad to savor the lingering taste of chicken wings a bit longer, he had to admit he wanted to experience more from this new chef.

So simple, yet the flavors had a complexity about them. And that hint of spiritual energy was nearly divine.

Perhaps it was the highlight of his evening. He’d planned to spend his time here mostly trying to poke his way into the Governor’s close circle. He hadn’t expected to find some relief in the food. After all, most Spiritual Restaurants around the Empire were, well, spiritual in name only. Other than using special ingredients, there was scarcely anything worth admiring about them.

Therefore, he was more than glad to have found a place just like the capital’s famous restaurant Jade Cauldron here. Granted, there was a wide difference in both the quality and the spirituality of the dishes, but still, he admired this chef for his novel approach to the culinary world.

He started with a spoonful from the soup. The spicy liquid burst into his mouth, gripping his taste buds right away. Then came a little piece of chicken. Such a cheeky little thing, yet it wobbled and danced around his tongue, dissolving into a wave of aroma that slid down his throat.

The second spoonful was windy. It felt like sucking in a deep breath from the fresh air of Skyriver itself. They said only immortals could taste that heavenly air. Who knew there was a little piece of it hidden in Jiangzhen as well?

Sun Hu wanted to talk. He wished to probe the others and find his way into their group. He had a few ideas about how he could approach them. He’d been planning for it for quite a while.

He wanted all that, but this Kimchi Ramen grabbed him by the neck and refused to let go. He took another mouthful. The cabbage crunched and set the tip of his tongue on fire, the warmth slowly consuming his thoughts.

Through all of it, he only managed to spare a single glance at the others.

Nobody was in the mood for talk right now. Everybody was busy devouring the food. He couldn’t blame them. Hell, he couldn’t even blame himself. It was just that good.

……