Chapter Thirty-Five: A Chef’s True Weapon Is Supreme Cuisine (Part One)

Ming Tian now more or less understood: these three formidable figures had gathered with the intent to assassinate Emperor Qi Ming and the Crown Prince Xiao Baojuan.

Today, their original plan had been to recruit Xiao Yaoguang. Emperor Qi Ming, driven by suspicion and the desire to pave the way for his son, was ruthlessly slaughtering imperial relatives, and Xiao Yaoguang had become his blade, executing his will. Unfortunately, Xiao Yaoguang's loyalty to the emperor ran too deep, so their attempt at recruiting him had failed.

Now, Ming Tian had become their backup.

And he had no other choice—he had to help them!

Xiao Xinzhu was currently in the palace. If Emperor Qi Ming died, that would be fine; the passing of the late emperor would make marriage inauspicious for a time. But if his illness improved, Xiao Xinzhu would immediately become the crown princess. At that point, once the decree was issued to the world and Xiao Baojuan consummated the marriage, everything would be over.

He had to save Xiao Xinzhu!

He cared nothing for the fate of the world. He was, after all, just a small fry—not some passionate idealist. He’d been single for two lifetimes, and now that, against all odds, he’d finally found a woman he liked, someone wanted to take her from him?

What kind of cosmic joke was this?!

Just because he was a nobody, did he have to remain alone forever? Who made that rule? Just because someone was rich, handsome, or noble, did it mean they could steal another man’s woman at will? Did being a crown prince make you so untouchable?

The more Ming Tian thought, the angrier he became.

To hell with grand causes—he wanted his woman, and no one was going to take her! Even if it was the crown prince, he'd make him pay!

With these thoughts, Ming Tian nodded and looked squarely at Wang Jingze. “It seems you were prepared from the moment you found out I was the marquis consort. If Xiao Yaoguang refused, you’d pick me, right?”

Wang Jingze’s face broke into a kindly, benevolent smile. “That's one way to put it.”

“Heh.” Ming Tian chuckled softly. “So you’re a crafty old fox yourself.”

“To serve the emperor is like serving a tiger. Without a bit of cunning, how could I be Grand Marshal?”

Beside him, Qi Guli and Chen Xianda both nodded, their eyes filled with expectation as they looked at Ming Tian.

Yu Nizi, that breathtaking beauty who could rival Xiao Xinzhu for the title of the most beautiful woman in the land, remained expressionless—like an emotionless puppet… except for the occasional warmth in her gaze toward An Luo.

“All right then.”

Ming Tian had no intention of sacrificing himself for the greater good. In his previous life, he'd spent every day worrying about the company's big picture; after being transported here, if he had to go through the same ordeal, he might as well be dead already.

Now, all Ming Tian cared about was marrying Xiao Xinzhu. If anyone stood in his way—man or god—he would cut them down!

“What do you need me to do? I’m not acquainted with the emperor, and now Xiao Yaoguang knows me as well.” Ming Tian thought about it and realized he didn’t have any special talents to offer.

But Wang Jingze’s inscrutable smile made it impossible to guess his intentions.

“I heard you won Xinzhu’s heart with your cooking?” Wang Jingze stepped forward, giving Ming Tian a thorough once-over.

“So what if I did?” Ming Tian didn’t deny it.

Wang Jingze lowered his head in thought for a moment. “You know, palace chefs are low in status, but those who are personally named by the emperor are highly regarded. I’ll bring you and Yu’er into the palace. Yu’er will be our cover, and you’ll serve as a palace chef, striving for the emperor’s recognition. When the time comes, you’ll have the opportunity to poison him. If we succeed, the empire will be left leaderless, and Xianda and I will launch a coup and seize the throne in one fell swoop! But the problem is…” As he spoke, Wang Jingze’s gaze toward Ming Tian turned doubtful. “You’re so young—I really can’t see how your cooking could possibly win over the emperor.”

“If I can win over Xinzhu, I can win over the emperor.” Ming Tian was brimming with confidence.

I’m a modern man transported here, single for thirty years, cooking for ten—how could my skills not surpass those of these primitive cooks?

But Wang Jingze pursed his lips and shook his head repeatedly. “Sorry, I really can’t see it.”

Damn, trying to recruit me while doubting me at the same time—what kind of game are you playing?

At this point, Qi Guli stepped forward, stroking his beard as he sized up Ming Tian and shook his head. “I spent two years preparing for this plan, recruiting chefs from the start. Even veteran cooks with thirty or forty years’ experience weren’t up to standard. You… just a youngster—how good could your cooking possibly be? I just don’t see it.”

Thirty or forty years?

Honestly, even a primitive man roasting meat over a campfire for a lifetime wouldn’t produce anything as good as what a modern street vendor could make after a single year selling lamb skewers!

Fine, fine. I’ve read so many web novels; most are about how to show off as much as possible. I never expected to be forced into showing off like this.

“Looks like I’ll have to give you a demonstration.” Ming Tian rolled up his sleeves and shouted, “Where’s the kitchen?!”

His shout left the three elders momentarily stunned; clearly, they hadn’t expected Ming Tian to actually take up the challenge.

Wang Jingze, too, swept away his earlier doubts and signaled a nearby soldier.

The soldier stepped forward and gestured for Ming Tian to follow.

“Yin Chan, come here and help me out.”

At his call, the usually silent Yin Chan rose and followed.

“Ming Tian, I…” An Luo, sitting at the same table as the three elders, tried to find an excuse to leave, but Ming Tian cut her off, “You stay here!”

With no choice, An Luo could only sit obediently.

“What do you think of this kid’s cooking?” After Ming Tian left, Chen Xianda consulted Wang Jingze and Qi Guli, his tone skeptical.

Qi Guli continued stroking his beard, smiling and shaking his head. “So young—how good could his cooking possibly be? Jingze, are you sure we should waste our time on him?”

Wang Jingze, seated calmly after Ming Tian’s departure, replied, “I’m not sure, but everyone knows that in Sumenzhen, he won Xinzhu over with his dishes. I figure, there’s no harm in trying. Let’s just hope Xinzhu wasn’t mistaken.”

…

Ah, this is exactly what I expected.

Ming Tian was too tired to complain any longer. Besides, complaining had become boring—and even if it wasn’t, repeating the same complaint this many times was enough to wear anyone out.

I thought, with such a grand house, your kitchen would be amazing. Turns out, except for being a bit larger than my own, there’s really no difference at all!

Is this really the Southern and Northern Dynasties? Who invented the stove? Would it kill you to be born a bit earlier? Why must you cook over an open fire like this? Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire?

Why are the kitchen utensils all just jars and bottles? And why does the kitchen reek of urine? Who relieved themselves in here? Who? Drag them out and have them castrated! So, the food we just ate at the table was made in a place where people relieve themselves?

Well, at least there’s a rack with all sorts of ingredients. Or so I thought—what a joke!

How long has this cabbage been here? There are weevils crawling all over it! Why are there two maggots on the beef? Hey, who threw half an orange on the floor? It’s so moldy mushrooms are growing on it!

And why is there half a rat in the pickled vegetable jar? Why only half? For heaven’s sake, Qi Guli, how did you live so long eating this stuff?

“Uh…” Yin Chan’s face stretched long in disgust. Clearly, she’d never set foot in a kitchen before and was almost turning green at the sight.

“Yin Chan,” Ming Tian said, exasperated, his tone almost pleading, “after we deal with all this mess, could you help me invent a stove, a wok, and all the other kitchen tools?”

“All right…” Yin Chan’s beautiful eyes were full of disdain for the kitchen, but she looked at Ming Tian with admiration. “You actually cook in a place like this?”

Ming Tian, at his wit’s end, banged his head against the wall to vent his frustration. “Don’t ask me. Honestly, I’d rather cook in a latrine right now.”

“They haven’t been invented yet,” Yin Chan replied. After a moment of thought, she raised a concern. “These people are important figures. Your cooking might have impressed them in this era, but with such poor conditions, how do you plan to conquer their palates?”

“You’re right. With conditions this bad, it’ll be tough to outdo my previous dishes.” With that, Ming Tian snatched the soldier’s steel sword.

No wonder the Lanling County guards were so formidable—their swords were made of solid iron, glinting dangerously blue under the moonlight. The sword was so heavy that, with Ming Tian’s feeble build, he needed both hands just to hold it steady.

He pushed open the kitchen’s back door, revealing a vast bamboo grove meticulously cultivated by Qi Guli. Even at night, the vibrant green showed how much care had gone into it.

Seeing Ming Tian grab the sword and head for the bamboo, Yin Chan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait, Ming Tian, are you sure about those two dishes? Neither is traditional Chinese cuisine. What if they don’t like them?”

Ming Tian simply smiled. “If you don’t take risks, how will these old men recognize my abilities? Besides, the dish I made for the county princess wasn’t Chinese food either, so enough talk—help me cut some bamboo!”

Yin Chan could only sigh inwardly: “You really are crazy!”

Chinese cuisine, the result of five thousand years of refinement, is widely recognized as the world’s most complex, demanding, and delicious. This kind of decrepit kitchen, with such third-rate ingredients—how could anyone expect to make good Chinese food?

What Ming Tian planned to make was a staple that didn’t require excellent conditions: bamboo tube steamed rice.

And as a side dish, a Western specialty: Brazilian sword skewer barbecue!

…

Brazilian sword barbecue is my favorite; I often made it at home. Unfortunately, Ming Tian doesn’t have the best conditions, so the next chapter will be about his method for making Brazilian barbecue in these circumstances—just for reference. Readers who want to try should take full advantage of modern resources.

As for my real-life job, I won’t say more—but please, fellow readers, don’t come at me with arguments based on home cooking or what you find on search engines. Thank you. I won’t argue back and forth; those in the industry will know you’re mistaken. If you have genuine questions or want to discuss recipes or vegetable knowledge, please leave a comment—I’ll respond to each one.