Chen An felt a little disappointed when he heard the name. The person he remembered went by the alias Hong Fugui, while this one was Cheng Fugui—worlds apart.
But his appearance really did resemble that old acquaintance, especially that queue. He'd never seen any degenerate sporting that hairstyle. Oh, actually, he had. From what he remembered, it really had been popular for a while...
"How did you end up here?"
Chen An acted as though he hadn't seen what happened earlier and asked him. Zhu Zhuqing, just as tacitly, didn't expose him and stood quietly to the side.
"I..."
Cheng Fugui hesitated instinctively, but when he saw the bread Chen An held out to him, his hesitation faded.
He took the bread and wolfed down several bites, finishing the whole loaf. It was soft and fluffy, not the dense kind of rye bread. Then he accepted the water and took a few gulps, so moved that tears nearly came to his eyes.
"I was an apprentice at the Suotuo Grand Restaurant. I just got fired."
Fugui closed his eyes and spoke slowly, a sense of dejection about him. Chen An figured there had to be more to the story. Otherwise, the restaurant's food wouldn't still have been so awful after Fugui left.
"Why were you fired? Even if you were, why don't you have anything with you?"
The boy hadn't brought a single thing, wearing only his thin chef's uniform. And the fact that he was sitting here instead of going home raised even more questions.
"I don't have a home, or any possessions."
That sort of thing was normal in Douluo, too. Soul Masters took in poor people and refugees, and all their possessions belonged to whoever took them in. The three teachers at Phantom Star were somewhat like that, except Chen An paid them wages.
"Earlier, the manager went out to take care of something, and his wife came over to tell everyone what to do. She did whatever she wanted, and when I tried to talk her out of it, she took a dislike to me.
"Then something went wrong, and she shoved the blame onto me. Under pressure and threats, I could only accept the blame."
Fugui's voice was low and his manner mature. He'd been mixed up in the streets since he was little, scraping out a living in this society for as long as he could remember. It wasn't surprising that he spoke like an adult.
Chen An didn't question whether he was telling the truth. It showed in his face, and what Chen An had seen inside the restaurant earlier backed him up.
"So what do you want to do now?"
Fugui's pupils shrank. He didn't understand why Chen An was asking, and the question left him stumped. He had no idea what he should do next, either.
He'd offended the biggest restaurant in Suotuo City, and his career as a chef in the city was over.
No one would hire him. Even if he'd been framed, he really had been fired. That alone was enough to make sure no one would take him on.
"I don't know. But I think I'll keep striving for my dream of becoming a chef. I don't believe the God of Cooking has to be a food-type Soul Master."
He had a big dream. As he spoke, his gaze grew firm.
"Master, why don't you—" Zhu Zhuqing said quietly to Chen An, but he already had a plan. He could tell this kid was rather simple-minded, the way you could recognize a clear-eyed college student at a glance.
He'd been mixed up in the world since childhood, but he was still young. A couple more years and who knew whether he'd still be so simple? After all, he'd already picked up some of society's ways.
"Oh? So you know how to cook?"
At those words, Fugui sprang to attention and promptly kowtowed.
"I do, sir. I know how to cook."
He'd originally meant to call Chen An "Master," but a vague instinct warned him that if he said that, this chance would slip through his fingers.
So he hurriedly changed his words, calling him "sir" instead.
"Mm. In that case, come along. Let me see what you mean when you say you can cook."
Without waiting for the bewildered boy to respond, Chen An grabbed Fugui and took him to a somewhat secluded spot.
After landing, he realized he'd forgotten something. He looked around and noticed that something quite obvious was missing.
"Uh, sorry, sorry. I forgot by accident."
He returned to where he'd started and brought along Zhu Zhuqing, who was still standing there, bewildered.
He'd left in such a hurry that he'd forgotten to take her with him.
"Hmph."
"Heh."
Chen An felt a little awkward, and to ease the tension, he turned to Fugui.
"Let's see what you've got."
He'd already laid out a wok, a spatula, three ingredients, and some salt, curious to see what the boy would choose.
To his surprise, Fugui weighed the spatula Chen An had given him, then set it aside and released his Martial Soul instead: a wok spatula.
"Interesting."
Chen An thought to himself that the boy's movements weren't bad. They weren't polished, but it was clear he knew how to work.
A person like him could be said to have a little talent, but how far that talent could take him remained to be seen.
"Sir, the stir-fried Chinese cabbage is ready. Please have a look."
The color was good, and the results seemed consistent—around passing grade.
That was probably thanks to the practice he'd gotten at the restaurant.
"You still have room to improve."
Taking on a disciple was never as simple as saying a few words. It was all about knowing exactly how to reel them in.
Aside from disciples who came to him of their own accord, hadn't both Zhu Zhuqing and Ning Rongrong decided to follow Chen An only after seeing how strong he was?
He wasn't Yu Xiaogang, who used bluster to recruit disciples. So now he planned to show off a little.
He turned the flame up high and picked up the spatula. He wasn't dealing with Soul Beast meat or vegetables rich in Soul Power, so there was no need to cook with Soul Power.
"Done."
He used a Cantonese-style method to stir-fry the greens: simple, flavorful, with the heat controlled to perfection. They were fresh and delicious.
Fugui stared at the plate, blinking. He understood what Chen An was getting at.
Without warning, he dropped to his knees and knocked his head against the ground with a thud, catching Chen An completely off guard.
"Master, please accept this bow from your disciple! I beg you to take me on!"
His attitude was utterly sincere. Someone like him was especially sensitive to the word "master," so his tone rang true.
"Uh, get up."
Chen An felt a headache coming on. His new disciple was putting himself far too low.
Still, he'd better maintain the dignity of a master for now.
"Thank you, Master."
The boy genuinely wanted to learn and had sincerely taken him as his master. There was nothing more to say. Chen An accepted him and would teach him.
A lot of it came down to the way he looked. If Fugui had looked different, Chen An might not have wanted to take him on.
But more importantly, there was that damn hairstyle. This world didn't have the Qing Dynasty, but seeing that hairstyle still made Chen An recoil.
"Uh, Master, the head chef used to like this hairstyle. I'll cut it off right away."
He grabbed a pair of small scissors from his cooking utensils and cut off the queue.
"Good. Is there anything else you need to do? If not, come with me."
Fugui shook his head. He had nothing to tie him down, so he was ready to go.
On the way, Chen An thought about how to teach Fugui. The boy was focused entirely on cooking and wasn't interested in combat, so giving him a cultivation manual to ensure he progressed quickly would be enough.
After all, some ingredients needed Soul Power to prepare. He still had to cultivate.
"Hmm? Something's up?"
As Chen An was taking the two kids back, he suddenly furrowed his brow and spoke in a low voice.
"Zhuqing, take Fugui back first and see to things there. I have something to deal with."
With that, he took off, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
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