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What happened today was simply too much of a coincidence. An underage student had first lavishly ordered six tables of dishes at First-Rank Pavilion, then publicly exposed the secret of First-Rank Pavilion using fake shark fin, loudly demanding that the notary office collect samples as evidence and send them to the relevant departments for inspection. Immediately afterward, he proposed a cooking contest with First-Rank Pavilion's head chef.

Every move had followed seamlessly upon the last, each step pressing harder than the one before. First-Rank Pavilion had been left utterly unable to defend itself. Such seasoned tactics—let alone the lobby manager, even the head chef had assumed from the outset that Huo Jiu had been sent by someone to deliberately ruin First-Rank Pavilion's reputation.

In the head chef's view, First-Rank Pavilion had indeed been in the wrong for passing off inferior goods as quality products and using fake shark fin to deceive its customers. He had nothing to say about that, and he was willing to lower his head and apologize to Huo Jiu as a diner. But as a fellow chef, he absolutely could not tolerate Huo Jiu's petty attempt to promote himself by trampling on First-Rank Pavilion's name.

Since they wanted to compete in cooking, then they would do it fairly. They would let their skills speak for themselves. If one's skills fell short, there was no one else to blame.

"Learning has no order; the accomplished come first." The head chef looked at Huo Jiu and said calmly, "Though you are young, young sir, you dared to propose a contest. You must be quite confident in your cooking. You may not necessarily lose."

If Huo Jiu and the people behind him had not been confident, they would not have gone to such painstaking lengths to arrange all this.

Huo Jiu was sharp enough to see at a glance that the head chef had misunderstood. But he could not be bothered to explain. "How do we compete?"

Seeing this, the head chef became even more certain of his guess. He was equally concise. "This is First-Rank Pavilion's home ground. As the host, I'll follow the guest's lead. How we compete is up to you."

He wanted to see what other schemes Huo Jiu and the people behind him had prepared. He also wanted to infer Huo Jiu's background from the terms of the contest he proposed.

Without hesitation, Huo Jiu said, "Cooking is all about knife work, heat control, and seasoning. The latter two take too long, so let's compete in knife work."

The head chef was somewhat surprised. Knife work was solid, fundamental skill. No matter how talented one was, without ten or twenty years of accumulation, it was impossible to achieve anything noteworthy. He had not expected Huo Jiu, so young, to dare challenge him in knife work. That straightforward, forceful style was utterly different from the calculating manner he had shown earlier.

With that thought, the head chef's expression softened slightly. "Have you thought this through? Let me tell you, I apprenticed under a master at seventeen. I'm thirty-nine now. I've practiced knife work for twenty-two years—longer than you've been alive."

"Knife work," Huo Jiu said decisively.

The head chef's expression grew even kinder. Though Huo Jiu and the people behind him had acted furtively, Huo Jiu's temperament suited the head chef's taste. Looking at the boy before him, who was several years younger than his own son, the head chef became gentler and more patient. "How do you want to compete?"

The head chef had originally assumed that, given Huo Jiu's age, even if he proposed a knife-work contest, it would at most involve slicing radishes or carving winter melons. He had not expected Huo Jiu's proposal to surprise him once again.

"Wensi Tofu." Huo Jiu said impatiently, "Whoever cuts the finer shreds wins. It'll be obvious at a glance, and no one gets an advantage."

Wensi Tofu was a very famous Huaiyang dish. It was said to have been invented by a monk named Wen Si. Soft tofu, winter bamboo shoots, shiitake mushrooms, chicken breast, ham, black fungus, and greens were all cut into shreds, then flavored with clear chicken broth simmered from old hens over three years old. It was tender and fresh, melting in the mouth. What it tested was a chef's knife work.

A talented apprentice could more or less finish training after three years of study. But to hone knife work to the point of perfection required more than ten years of accumulation and dedicated study.

Huo Jiu's choice of dish was both within the head chef's expectations and somewhat beyond them. The reason was simple: the dish was too simple. It fit both Huo Jiu's age as a learner and his desire to show off his skills, yet it did not quite fit the careful plotting of Huo Jiu and whoever stood behind him.

Did this kid really think that, after slicing tofu into shreds for a few years, he could beat the head chef of First-Rank Pavilion, who had more than twenty years of cooking experience?

Master Yan was puzzled, but then he noticed that after speaking, Huo Jiu had actually rubbed his stomach.

"Bring me another bowl of rice and a pot of hot tea," Huo Jiu said impatiently. After all this fuss, it was nearly two in the afternoon. Huo Jiu had not even gotten lunch into his mouth. No wonder he had run out of patience.

Worried that hunger would leave him too weak, Huo Jiu asked for a bowl of rice and a pot of tea, then used the steaming tea to soak half the bowl of rice before eating it.

Only then did the head chef notice that, after all their arguing, the six tables of dishes Huo Jiu had ordered had all gone cold. Somewhat apologetically, he said, "I'll have the kitchen make several more tables of food. You can fill your stomachs first."

"Don't waste time." Huo Jiu did not accept the gesture and urged, "Let's begin."

Seeing Huo Jiu's reaction, the head chef vaguely felt that perhaps he had wronged the boy. He suddenly felt like a bean soaking in a vat of seasonings, overwhelmed by a hundred conflicting flavors and emotions.

"What is your name? How old are you? Who did you study under?" the head chef asked again.

"I came to First-Rank Pavilion for a meal, and not only did you pin false accusations on me and interrogate me about my entire family tree, now you won't even let my teacher go?" Huo Jiu mocked with a sarcastic look.

The head chef had run into a wall, but there was nothing he could do. "Don't misunderstand. I'm just curious what family could raise such an outstanding young talent."

Huo Jiu's teacher belonged to his previous life; there was no point telling anyone in this life. "Just assume I'm self-taught."

The lobby manager could not help snorting coldly and said in a strange, mocking tone, "At a time like this, why are you still hiding your identity? Are you afraid that if you lose, you'll embarrass your family?"

The lobby manager had decided that the people behind Huo Jiu wanted to rise to prominence by stepping on First-Rank Pavilion's reputation. He spoke without the slightest courtesy. The way he acted as though he were in the right made it seem as if Huo Jiu, not First-Rank Pavilion, was the one with something to hide.

Huo Jiu glanced at the lobby manager and said lightly, "You people aren't ashamed of using fake shark fin. I'm just someone who paid to eat here, so what do I have to be ashamed of?"

That single sentence enraged the lobby manager into squawking like a rubber chicken. "Who exactly sent you to ruin First-Rank Pavilion's reputation?"