Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pinnacle of Cuisine Beyond the Rich Man’s Comprehension (Part Two)

Ming Tian and the impostor had their dishes brought to the table at the same time.

On the left, Ming Tian’s deep-fried crispy pork was golden and translucent, each piece plump and radiant like a bead of pure gold. On the right was the impostor’s beef stew; whatever else could be said, even Ming Tian had to admit it looked impressive. An array of vegetables tumbled inside, their colors weaving together as if a rainbow had been poured into the bowl, while the aroma of pepper and various ingredients filled the air.

The success of any dish lies in color, fragrance, and taste. The impostor’s dish, at least on the surface, possessed both color and fragrance. Ming Tian’s own, though not lacking in aroma, suffered slightly in appearance—it was a fried dish, and in this era, without breadcrumbs, it couldn’t quite match the golden sheen.

The magistrate took a sniff, instantly tempted. “Worthy of the Lord Consort, the fragrance of this dish is unparalleled! I have never encountered such intense aroma.”

The impostor beamed with pride, lifting his chin. “Your praise is too generous, Magistrate.”

“Well, then, I’ll try yours first.”

The magistrate ignored Ming Tian entirely. To him, Ming Tian was merely an extra, a background figure meant to prepare dishes for the consort.

A background figure, a pawn, was he? His dish smelled good, didn’t it? But flavor is everything! If you can swallow his food, I’ll cut off my own head and offer it as your chamber pot!

Sure enough, as the dish entered his mouth, the magistrate’s face flushed bright red, his cheeks puffed like a pufferfish and then turned ashen. Tears streamed from his eyes like faucets.

“Ugh…this…”

Trying to endure, the magistrate chewed once more, his face now deep purple. Smoke seemed to rise from both ears, and his magistrate’s cap flew off with a thud, his hair standing upright like a rocket launching skyward.

“Urgh, urgh, urgh, urgh, urgh…”

Ming Tian had heard of a condition called “projectile vomiting” in his previous life, but he’d never seen it. Now, after crossing over, he had the opportunity to witness its glory firsthand.

The magistrate opened his mouth, and vomit sprayed like a high-pressure hose, shooting ten feet across the room. The crowd scattered in terror as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Help! A monster!”

“The magistrate’s possessed!”

The townsfolk fled in panic, never having seen a man vomit ten feet—they suspected the magistrate was a demon in disguise.

Even the impostor himself had lost all composure. Faced with the magistrate’s wild vomiting, he finally realized disaster had struck.

After a long bout, the magistrate had lost all dignity. Kneeling on the ground, he vomited until even his bile was gone.

Ming Tian held back his laughter, feeling pain in his belly.

Oh my, I can’t take it. Someone save me, this is too hilarious—I’ll injure myself holding it in.

“Magistrate, please have some tea…” The advisor, never having seen such a scene, hurriedly offered tea and water.

The magistrate stood, his face pale as paper, then suddenly darkened.

His eyes, venomous as a tiger’s, glared at the impostor. “What…what is this filth you’ve made? How could such abomination win the Lady’s favor? Impossible! You cannot be the Consort! Who are you?!”

Indeed, Magistrate, your face is a palette—so many expressions at once, I’ve never seen anything like it. Admirable, truly.

Ming Tian thought this as he struggled to suppress laughter.

Meanwhile, the impostor was frozen, clearly never expecting that using the finest ingredients would yield such a disaster.

He had no answer. Shaken by the magistrate’s anger, he snapped back to reality and tried to flee.

But his efforts were futile.

“Seize him!” the magistrate commanded. Soldiers rushed forward; two spears pierced the impostor’s thighs, pinning him in place.

It must be said, ancient times cared little for human rights. With those spears, even if he survived, he’d never walk again.

“Magistrate, mercy!” The impostor, stripped of all former dignity, lay on the ground sobbing and begging.

But the officers showed no mercy. With a twist of the spears, the sound of bone shattering rang out, audible hundreds of feet away.

The audience hurried to cover their children’s eyes, unwilling to witness such brutality.

The magistrate staggered to his feet. That vomiting had aged him ten years in an instant; he gasped for breath, furious. “Daring to impersonate the Consort! Such treason! And today you dared to poison me! Audacious! No need for trial—drag him out and execute him by slow slicing!”

“Magistrate, no! Mercy! I am merely poor and desperate, seeking a small profit—please, spare me, I am a first-time offender!”

The impostor, terrified, grovelled and banged his head on the ground.

Ming Tian snorted at the scene.

A small profit? I’ve only been famous a few days, yet you’re dressed head to toe in silk and gold, as if you’re made of money. Small profit, indeed.

Still hoping for mercy at this point—who gave you that confidence?

From the moment you started impersonating me, you should have known this day would come!

As expected, the magistrate paid him no heed. After eating that brain-numbing spicy food, he was already furious. He stomped twice on the impostor and shrieked, “Kill him!”

With the impostor dragged away, his wailing gradually faded, leaving the scene in rare silence.

After some time, the magistrate turned and glared viciously at Ming Tian.

The look was so fierce that Ming Tian’s heart skipped a beat.

The magistrate, livid, pointed at Ming Tian’s nose and barked, “What are you staring at? You too are impersonating the Consort, guilty with him! But since your attitude is decent, I’ll be merciful—grant you a swift death. Guards, drag him out and behead him!”

“Wait!”

He couldn’t let the officers approach—if he ended up like the last guy, stabbed with spears, there’d be no way out.

Ming Tian spoke confidently, “Magistrate, you may execute me, but before I die, I wish only to see you eat my dish. Then I will have no regrets.”

Eat the dish?

The magistrate’s face showed confusion. He couldn’t fathom why Ming Tian, facing death, would want him to eat his food.

“Very well, I’ll grant you this wish.” He picked up his chopsticks, growling, “But let me warn you—if it’s as bad as the impostor’s, I’ll have you executed by slow slicing!”

“Ah!” At that moment, a scream rang out from afar—the impostor’s first cut during the execution. The audience grimaced and winced.

“If it isn’t tasty, you can wipe out my entire clan,” Ming Tian said with a smile, standing tall. This unwavering confidence could only be acquired after nearly a decade of grinding through the workplace.

The magistrate, suspicious, picked up a piece of meat. He seemed traumatized, hesitant to bite—after all, it was pork breast, his own choice for Ming Tian, and the taste was unimaginable. After a long pause, he finally summoned the courage to pop it in his mouth.

Then…

From Ming Tian’s perspective, the magistrate…

Rolled his eyes!

His eyes turned upward, drool trickled down, and he chewed the meat hundreds of times, unable to bear swallowing. Even the hair that had shot up from the spice now fell limp.

This magistrate, in his forties but appearing sixty, now wore a flushed, blissful expression, as if floating in paradise.

His aged hands moved as though he’d taken some indescribable drug, stroking his face, his body swaying.

At long last, he swallowed the mouthful.

“It’s delicious!!!!!!!”

The magistrate roared, sending a gust so strong Ming Tian felt his own face might peel away.

Good heavens, it’s just fried pork with some pepper—must you be like this? Magistrate, you’re a high-ranking official, not some country bumpkin. Have a little dignity, or you’ll be single forever.

But the magistrate wouldn’t stop. He grabbed the plate, tossed aside the chopsticks, and stuffed the meat into his mouth by handfuls.

He looked like a starving ghost enjoying his last meal before reincarnation.

The soldiers and advisor watched in shock, never having seen the magistrate so undignified.

Finally, the plate was empty. The magistrate, still unsatisfied, licked the bowl like a beggar, so clean even a dog couldn’t find a trace.

“Tasty, isn’t it?” Ming Tian expected nothing less, so he wasn’t surprised.

Thanks to the impostor’s appalling dish, Ming Tian’s own, already good enough to conquer the magistrate, now seemed absolutely divine.

After some tea, the magistrate’s color improved noticeably.

“It’s delicious. I must admit, your cooking is extraordinary. I’ve never tasted such a marvelous dish. With this skill, you’d be more than qualified as an imperial chef. This puts me in a difficult position.”

“What troubles you, Magistrate?” Ming Tian was unfazed; the magistrate’s reaction was entirely within his expectations.

The magistrate stroked his beard, pondering. After a long pause, he nodded. “With such talent, it would be a shame to kill you. Here’s my offer: serve as my chef for life and I’ll spare you.”

Seriously? Trying to recruit me? Ambitious appetite you have!

Ming Tian smiled and shook his head. “I must respectfully decline, Magistrate.”

At this, not only the magistrate but the entire audience was stunned. They stared at Ming Tian as if he were mad.

The magistrate expected Ming Tian to kneel and thank him, but Ming Tian had the audacity to refuse.

“How dare you!” The advisor slapped the table, pointing at Ming Tian’s nose. “Our magistrate offers you mercy, yet you refuse!”

The magistrate was silent, his face simmering, ready to order execution at any moment.

Ming Tian glanced at the townsfolk’s expressions.

He then looked at the magistrate, recalling An Luo’s suffering in prison, and sighed—finally, the time was ripe to resolve this mess.

“Sir, look.”

Ming Tian drew An Luo’s token from his belt and tossed it onto the magistrate’s table.

“What’s this?” The magistrate, impatient, picked up the token.

The next moment, his eyes bulged. He rubbed them repeatedly, switching between Ming Tian’s face and the token, confirming he wasn’t dreaming. Instantly, cold sweat poured down.

In that moment, the magistrate realized the enormity of his blunder.

Before the eyes of all, the magistrate, like a startled cat, scrambled to Ming Tian, dropped to his knees, and slammed his head on the ground so hard it nearly punched a hole in the wooden platform.

Silence fell over the scene. The magistrate’s trembling voice echoed throughout Douhu Prefecture.

“My lord Consort, your arrival is an honor. My inadequate hospitality and offense are punishable by death. I beg your forgiveness!”

...

PS: Thanks to Ant and Number for the 1,000 reward.

I’m delighted you’ve supported me, but I must say, please give less. Everyone works hard for their money. If you really want to donate, 100 DB is enough.

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And a reply to reader "Ou Piao": Mate, you’ve read my book for so long, yet this competition is just another ordinary event. Haven’t you noticed how unusual this book is? Haha! My tricks run much deeper than you imagine.