Chapter 42

By now, it was already the twelfth lunar month. Although there was no snow, the constant howling north wind still made people shiver. Fatty Zhang wrapped himself tightly in his thick cotton coat, feeling very fortunate that he had grabbed a cotton hat before coming out. Someone like Manager Liu, who always paid attention to his appearance no matter the occasion, was now caught off guard. Fatty Zhang noticed Liu Junyue’s mid-length hair frozen and standing up stiffly from the cold, so he quietly tugged his own hat further down, covering his head completely.

Liu Junyue could no longer maintain his composure; he hunched his shoulders, his teeth chattering nonstop. “Why is it so cold?”

Fatty Zhang glanced behind at the growing line and couldn’t help but mutter, “Manager, tell me, it’s the dead of winter, and they’re all out here freezing—what are they thinking? Our Zibo City Restaurant is great—high-end, good service, and best of all, delicious food without needing to wait in line.” He then suddenly thought of a possibility and whispered to Liu Junyue, “Manager Liu, could it be that this place is really cheap? And the food’s pretty good, so all the people who can’t afford Zibo City Restaurant are coming here.”

Liu Junyue sighed sorrowfully. “I’ve heard it’s even more expensive than our Zibo City Restaurant.”

“What? More expensive than us? That’s robbery!” Fatty Zhang’s voice abruptly rose in pitch. People in line ahead and behind turned to look at him. Realizing this, Fatty Zhang quickly shut his mouth. Only after everyone turned their heads away did he whisper, “More expensive than us? Then why are they out here freezing in this cold? Are they out of their minds?”

“Everyone says the food here is amazing—exactly how amazing…” A trace of anticipation flickered in Liu Junyue’s eyes. “We’ll find out once we’re inside.”

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait too long before the main entrance opened. A chubby boy came out holding a bunch of number cards, distributing them down the line. Those who received a number were let into the courtyard, while the others watched longingly, silently estimating when their turn would come.

Liu Junyue and Fatty Zhang got number 23. Not knowing what that meant, they heard murmurs from the people ahead: “This number won’t get you into the main courtyard. Let’s go warm up in the tent.” The two exchanged a glance and followed the group into the large tent set outside the courtyard.

This tent had been specially built by Qian Jianing to keep people warm. Several stoves were lit inside, and extra firewood and coal were stacked nearby. An older man came in and sat down beside a stove, skillfully poked the fire with a stove hook to make it burn brighter.

Liu Junyue noticed that each stove had a small simmering pot on top. Just as he was about to ask if hot water was being boiled inside, he saw many people go to a cupboard in the corner, take out bowls, and line up to ladle out snow pear and white fungus soup.

Fatty Zhang nudged Liu Junyue’s arm and whispered, “This place might look run-down, but it’s really thoughtful.”

The two of them came precisely to check out the cook’s skills, and this snow pear soup could be considered a part of that craft. They lined up to scoop some and found a corner to sit down.

Fatty Zhang looked at the thick soup in the bowl: the white fungus had been simmered until it released a rich, gelatinous texture—soft, smooth, and silky; the snow pear was cooked to the point it resembled canned fruit, sweet and fragrant with every bite. Usually, Fatty Zhang didn’t like sweet soups; he found them cloying after a while. But this bowl was perfectly balanced—neither overly sweet nor bland—just right. One more or one less notch of sweetness would ruin the perfection.

Before they knew it, they had finished every drop of soup, scraping the bowl clean with their spoons. They set the used bowls into a bin nearby. Liu Junyue licked his lips and looked at Fatty Zhang. “I think this snow pear and white fungus soup is really good.”

Fatty Zhang nodded but didn’t say much.

Liu Junyue had originally thought waiting here would be boring, but after sitting for a while, he found the atmosphere quite nice. A group of people sat around the stove chatting about recent news and discussing the restaurant’s signature dishes. Before they knew it, the chubby boy who distributed the number cards came running in. “Could guests with numbers 20 to 25 please come in to dine.”

Liu Junyue glanced at his watch—it had already been two hours. He was surprised, realizing he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.

He and Fatty Zhang stood and followed the crowd into the small restaurant they were curious about. Inside, the restaurant was still decorated with evergreen plants as makeshift partitions, adding a touch of vitality to the desolate winter. The room temperature was just right—warm but not stuffy, like that bowl of white fungus soup: everything just right.

The first batch of diners had left. Liu Junyue had expected the place to be a mess by now, but to his amazement, the tables had already been re-set with clean white cloths and spotless dinnerware. The floor was immaculately clean—as if no one had been inside at all. Curious, Liu Junyue deliberately stepped down hard and whispered to Fatty Zhang, “I wonder what brand of tile this is—not a trace of dust. Amazing.”

But Fatty Zhang wasn’t thinking about the floor at all; his gaze was fixed through the floor-to-ceiling window on Qian Jianing working in the kitchen. He was truly surprised that the head chef of such a popular little restaurant was so young—she looked more like a female college student.

Since the purpose of their visit was to evaluate Qian Jianing’s culinary skills, the two chose the table closest to the kitchen.

They waited for a waiter to come take their order, but after a while, aside from the girl in the kitchen, they saw no staff in the entire dining hall. Just as they were growing confused, someone at a nearby table took a blank sheet of paper and passed it into the kitchen through the pass window. “Boss Xiao Qian, here’s our Table One’s order.”

Qian Jianing glanced at it and looked up. “Any dietary preferences or restrictions?”

“We’re good with everything, as long as it tastes good,” the guest replied cheerfully.

Qian Jianing took out a pen, wrote prices next to each dish, and handed it back. “Please check if you’d like to change any items.”

As expected, the prices were high, but the customer didn’t flinch. After glancing at it, they signed at the bottom and passed it back. “No changes.”

Qian Jianing clipped the sheet onto a string in front of the prep counter. Soon, other tables began submitting their orders as well. Fatty Zhang looked at the blank paper and pen on their table, quickly wrote down seven dishes, all signature items from Zibo City Restaurant.

Qian Jianing took the sheet, gave Fatty Zhang a puzzled look through the glass. “Only two of you and you’re ordering seven dishes? That’s a waste. Three dishes would be more than enough.”

Fatty Zhang actually felt a rising fondness for the young lady. At these steep prices, she was suggesting they cut four dishes—she would be losing more than a hundred yuan. Clearly, she had her customers’ best interests in mind.

He shook his head and slid the menu back. “Anything we can’t finish, we’ll pack up and take away.”

Qian Jianing looked over the menu again, then suddenly asked, “You two look unfamiliar—is this your first time here? May I ask your names?”

Fatty Zhang tensed, but forced a smile. “My surname is Zhang. It’s the one with the character for ‘morning’ in it.”

Qian Jianing nodded. “Would you like your dishes made with regular ingredients or our exclusive premium health-enhancing ingredients?”

“There’s a difference between ingredients too?” Fatty Zhang was confused. He’d been a chef for most of his life and never knew ingredients could be graded like this.

Qian Jianing bent down and took out two tomatoes for comparison. “This one is standard, and this one is premium.”

Even without touching them, the difference was clear. The tomato on the left looked like what Zibo City used—big and red, and under normal circumstances would be considered top-tier. But—

Fatty Zhang studied the tomato on the right. It was only the size of half a grown man’s fist, but its skin looked thin and almost translucent. Under the light, its juicy interior could be faintly seen. He couldn’t help picking it up; its unique, fresh tomato aroma reached him before it touched his nose.

Liu Junyue also walked over, took the tomato from Fatty Zhang, sniffed it, and suddenly remembered what an elderly man had once said at a birthday banquet, “I’d rather have Qian Xiaomi’s Shop’s tomato and scrambled egg than Zibo City Restaurant’s sea cucumber.”

Liu Junyue placed the tomato back on the counter and smiled at Qian Jianing. “Could you also add a tomato and egg stir-fry, made with this tomato?”

Qian Jianing nodded. “And the rest?”

“Use regular ingredients for the rest,” Liu Junyue replied, thinking to himself that only with normal ingredients could he properly assess the girl’s skills.

Qian Jianing wrote down the prices and handed them over. Fatty Zhang couldn’t resist leaning over for a look. Though they’d been warned of the high prices, he still gasped. He muttered under his breath—this young girl really had guts to charge so much. But then again, seeing how many customers were willing to line up outside, he conceded inwardly—clearly it worked.

The first dish Qian Jianing prepared was Table One’s beehive prawns. All shrimp in the shop were kept alive in a tank. She scooped out a netful, dumped them into a basin, then picked up a small knife about the size of a palm. One smooth cut removed the intestinal veins, and with a flick of her wrist, the shrimp were shelled clean—leaving only tender, fresh shrimp meat.

You could tell she was a pro. She processed the twenty-some shrimp within a minute. Each shrimp was intact and plump, not a single broken piece. Then came searing oil on high heat—her heavy wok, weighing over ten pounds, handled like a toy in her hands, as she tossed it with confident flair. Fatty Zhang couldn’t help nodding in approval, a touch of admiration on his face. “This girl’s got a good handle on heat.”

The beehive prawn—crispy and aromatic—was plated and set on the counter. Instantly, the rich smell of fried shrimp filled the air. Fatty Zhang stared longingly at the dish until Table One took it to their table, before sighing regretfully and looking away.

Qian Jianing worked efficiently and cooked quickly. After carving a roast duck for Table 2, the braised prawns Fatty Zhang had ordered were soon ready.

Braised prawns are a specialty of Shandong Province and also Fatty Zhang’s signature dish. Ever since he’d heard that the mayor said his braised prawns weren’t as good as the ones made at Qian Xiaomi’s Shop, he had felt a bit resentful. So today, when ordering, he wrote “braised prawns” right at the top of his list.

Fatty Zhang placed the dish of braised prawns on the table. Over a dozen shiny, red-glazed prawns lay on a pristine white plate, their color vibrant. Staring at the prawns, Fatty Zhang said nothing. He remembered what Manager Liu had told him—the mayor’s first comment had been that Fatty Zhang’s braised prawns didn’t look as glossy as the ones at Qian Xiaomi’s Shop.

Fatty Zhang cooked braised prawns at least ten times a day; he could recall their appearance with his eyes closed. Until now, he had always believed his braised prawns were perfect, both in color and flavor. But now, looking at the plate before him, his face grew pale. Only now did he realize what “glossy and red” truly meant. Compared to this, his own prawns looked dull and lifeless.

Braised prawns are judged by their appearance, the texture of the meat, and the flavor of the sauce. If any of these elements aren’t done well, they compromise the entire dish. Seasoning is also crucial—it should enhance the prawn’s flavor to perfection without overwhelming the natural umami of the seafood. Balancing that is the hardest part.

Fatty Zhang picked up his chopsticks and placed a prawn in his mouth. The meat was tender, flavorful, and brilliantly colored. He had to admit, this young woman’s version was better than his.

After tasting one, Liu Junyue also fell silent. Having run restaurants for many years, he had a very refined palate. From the first bite, he knew Zibo City Restaurant’s braised prawns truly couldn’t compare. The two exchanged glances, both with a trace of bitterness in their expressions. They lowered their heads, said nothing more, and quietly ate prawns. By the time the second dish arrived, the plate of braised prawns was already clean.

The second dish Fatty Zhang had ordered was sweet and sour Yellow River carp. This dish relies heavily on presentation. If the fish isn’t fried just right, it won’t stand upright. Undercooked, it topples; overcooked, some parts blacken. Only with precise control of heat, temperature, and timing can you produce a carp with golden scales and a red tail—visually stunning.

Fatty Zhang knew many restaurants made this dish; it was popular for weddings and birthday banquets—a dragon-leaping carp on the table was both beautiful and auspicious. But since many chefs can’t get the sweet and sour sauce right, people often assumed this dish was all looks and no taste.

That’s not the case. A properly balanced sweet and sour sauce can add complexity to the subtle flavor of fish and bring out its freshness even more. The key lies in the sauce composition. Fatty Zhang picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks, a look of approval appearing on his face. He had tasted others’ sweet and sour fish before—the meat as tough as rock, taking forever just to pull off a bit of skin and flesh. But this young woman’s fish was crispy yet not too hard; the flesh pulled away easily. When dipped in the sauce on the plate, it was crisp outside, tender inside—perfectly sweet and sour.

Oil-exploded double crisp, nine-turned large intestines, braised sea cucumber with scallions, quick-fried lamb with scallions, and pan-fried tofu—these were all representative Shandong dishes that Fatty Zhang ordered, and also the signature dishes of Zibo City Restaurant. His gaze swept over each presentation—every dish had color, aroma, taste, form, and elegance. They looked like works of art, and simply looking at them brought peace of mind. After tasting each dish, Fatty Zhang was once again humbled by Qian Jianing’s skills. Remembering how arrogant he’d been before coming here, he now felt a bit ashamed. How could he have the nerve to call himself the number-one chef in Zibo City? With the food he made—he had let everyone down… He stared at the dishes in front of him and, feeling guilty, ate a piece of nine-turned large intestines. He had let everyone down, especially the dishes he made. He had betrayed the prawns! Betrayed the nine-turned large intestines!

“Table Three, tomato and scrambled eggs!” Qian Jianing’s crisp voice rang out.

Liu Junyue got up and brought over this most common homestyle dish. If the previous dishes had been about assessing Qian Jianing’s culinary skills, then this one came down to the quality of the ingredients. Liu Junyue couldn’t wait to see what that vibrant and fragrant tomato would taste like in a finished dish.

Two pairs of spoons scooped up a spoonful each and put it in their mouths, savoring every bite. This tomato had a different flavor from the ones they usually ate—not too sour, not overly sweet. The red juice coated the fluffy golden egg, forming a wonderfully harmonious taste.

Great truths are simple, and so is great food. This most ordinary tomato and scrambled eggs dish had given Fatty Zhang the biggest surprise of the day. It turned out that only the simplest cooking methods could bring out the true essence of fresh ingredients.

Fatty Zhang suddenly felt a sense of clarity. He thought to himself, this visit was worth it.

The tables nearby started settling their bills. Fatty Zhang turned and glanced at Liu Junyue. “So why exactly did we come here?”

Liu Junyue let out a burp, then stubbornly stuffed another piece of lamb into his mouth. “To scout the competition, of course!”

Fatty Zhang thought for a moment, scraped the last bit of tomato sauce off the plate with his spoon, and ate it. Then he turned to Liu Junyue with a serious expression. “I don’t think one scouting trip is enough. As the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you’ll never lose a battle. How about we come back tomorrow and try her Huaiyang cuisine? I also saw the table next to us ordered some Sichuan dishes—they looked pretty good too.”

Liu Junyue nodded in approval. “I was thinking the same. But in the spirit of fairness, today I paid, so it’s your turn tomorrow.”

“Come on, Boss, you can’t be like this.” Fatty Zhang’s round face immediately sagged. “You’re the boss. You should set the example.”

Liu Junyue recalled the prices on the menu from earlier, and his heart ached so much he nearly cried. “Even the landlord’s family has no excess grain.”

When Fatty Zhang heard that, his eyes suddenly lit up. “Actually, I just had a great idea.”

Liu Junyue looked up, anticipation on his face. “An idea where I don’t have to spend money? Spill it!”

“It’s time to call in the lady boss! She’s got the money, and she’s more generous than the boss. I’d be more than happy to accompany her in scouting the competition regularly.”

Boss Liu: “…” Is this chef trying to rebel?