Chapter Forty-Eight: Have You Ever Felt Unwilling to Resign Yourself?

“Don’t worry about it.”

Ming Tian stood rooted to the spot, rigid with anger, utterly motionless.

The surrounding chefs had already dispersed, and finally Zhao Ke, with a helpless sigh, patted Ming Tian’s shoulder and left as well.

What a joke!

If anyone could simply snatch credit for another’s achievements and live in comfort, who would ever bother to work hard? No wonder the emperor hadn’t rewarded the Imperial Kitchen for over a year. With that scoundrel Qian Shanduo here, who would ever be willing to devote themselves wholeheartedly to their craft?

“Hey, boy.” At that moment, Qian Shanduo ambled over.

He was all smiles, his face brimming with smug satisfaction. He reached out and lightly patted Ming Tian on the cheek. The force was slight, but to Ming Tian, each pat landed like a hammer blow to the spirit, leaving his head reeling.

“Not a bad dish you made. Do it more often in the future. Here, this is your reward.”

With that, Qian Shanduo grabbed Ming Tian’s hand and tossed a few silver pieces into his palm.

Five taels?!

Ming Tian’s eyes widened in outrage.

You bastard—I’ll kill you!

Humiliation sent Ming Tian’s fury surging to its limit, a single thread in his mind snapping from the heat.

“Oh! Thank you, Master Qian!” Ming Tian’s expression changed instantly; he bowed and scraped, stuffing the money right back into Qian Shanduo’s hand. “I really can’t accept this, sir. Please keep it, buy yourself some wine. Just look after me in the future, that’s all I ask.”

This fawning display startled Qian Shanduo, who was left standing there dumbfounded.

In his experience, most chefs whose credit he stole would burst out in anger, cursing him to his face. Ming Tian’s obsequiousness was wholly unexpected.

Given that this Ming Tian had been recommended by Wang Jingze, Qian Shanduo quickly arrived at the wrong conclusion. This kid must be the shameless, sycophantic type, always currying favor with others. How else would he have caught Wang Jingze’s eye? Surely, it was this very character that pleased Lord Wang and got him in through the back door.

Is that what you think?

A sly, nearly imperceptible smile flickered across Ming Tian’s lips.

Go head-to-head? Take a knife to you? Don’t be ridiculous—this is the palace, with the Imperial Food Supervisors just next door. If I killed you, I’d be finished too. What makes you, you fat pig, worth risking my life for?

Besides, killing you outright would be far too merciful.

Why should you die so easily?

Ming Tian’s anger had already transformed. Qian Shanduo was not just vile; he was a threat to Ming Tian’s plans. He had to die.

And not just die—he had to die miserably, and in a way that would make history!

Back in Douhu Prefecture, that charlatan had made dishes that looked beautiful and smelled delicious, but tasted vile. That wouldn’t work in the palace.

Here, every dish had to pass the judgment of the Imperial Food Supervisors and undergo at least two rounds of tasting by poison-testing eunuchs before it could be served to the emperor. Any shoddy trick would be discovered long before it reached the imperial table.

Meanwhile, Qian Shanduo, pleased by Ming Tian’s flattery and seeing potential value in him, nodded in satisfaction. “Good. You know the score. Keep cooking for me and, when I rise, you’ll get your share of the rewards.”

“Thank you, Master Qian! Thank you, Master Qian!” Ming Tian bowed again and again.

Qian Shanduo was plainly delighted by this attitude, bursting into hearty laughter.

Around them, several assistant stewards and kitchen staff looked on with scorn, but Ming Tian paid them no mind.

Sensing the moment was right, he ingratiated himself further. “Master Qian, I have a small favor to ask. Would you grant it?”

Qian Shanduo, still riding his wave of pleasure, nodded and laughed. “What is it? Anything but a reward, that’s easy.”

Ming Tian feigned shyness. “I’m poor and have never eaten well. Would you allow me to take some ingredients from the pantry home? I want to build up my strength, so I can better serve you in the future.”

The kitchen’s supplies were all paid for by the palace, so technically, they had nothing to do with Qian Shanduo personally. After all, these ingredients were for the emperor, and no matter how expensive, that was only natural. Clearly, Qian Shanduo must have been pilfering as well; how else could he have grown so corpulent?

Qian Shanduo, in high spirits and thinking he’d found a treasure, saw no harm in granting the request. With a wave of his plump hand, he agreed. “Go ahead, take what you want—chicken, duck, beef—just don’t touch the premium ingredients. There’s so little of that, and if the Imperial Supervisor notices any missing, it’s a capital offense. Got it?”

“Understood, sir, I understand.” Ming Tian nodded vigorously.

“Good, very good.” Qian Shanduo laughed heartily, thoroughly pleased. “I’m off then! Remember, tomorrow you’d better make a dish that satisfies the emperor as well, understood? Ha ha ha!”

With that, Qian Shanduo strode away in triumph. Ming Tian bowed deeply in his wake, lest he arouse suspicion.

Only when Qian Shanduo disappeared around the corner did Ming Tian’s face change.

A cruel smile curled his lips, his eyes gleamed like razors—Ming Tian was both furious and exhilarated.

He’d taken the bait!

Turning, Ming Tian dashed into the kitchen, ignoring the contemptuous stares of the other chefs, and made a beeline for Zhao Ke, who was quietly tidying his tools.

With a crash, Zhao Ke, caught off guard, was shoved against the wall by Ming Tian.

“Y-young man, what’s wrong?” Zhao Ke stammered, intimidated by the fire in Ming Tian’s eyes.

Already seething with rage, Ming Tian’s forced display of submission had pushed him to the point of trembling.

His voice was low and dangerous. “Zhao Ke, do you really accept this?”

“Accept?” Zhao Ke blinked. He was no fool; he understood what Ming Tian meant, and lowered his head in bitterness. “Even if I don’t, what can I do? He’s beyond my reach. All I can do is…”

“I’m not asking about anything else. I’m asking if you’re willing to be bullied by him all your life, to live in obscurity and leave this place with nothing?”

Ming Tian’s voice was nearly a roar.

The words seemed to cut deep into Zhao Ke. His body trembled, as if recalling painful memories, and tears welled up in his weary eyes.

After a long silence, his voice shook as he answered.

“How could I be willing? How could I possibly be! Do you know what that beast did to me? I wish I could tear him limb from limb! But I can’t. I’m helpless… I just can’t do it…”

As he spoke, Zhao Ke clutched the jade Buddha on his wrist and banged his head gently against the wall, as if to relieve his grief.

Then he shared his story with Ming Tian.

Years ago, Qian Shanduo and Zhao Ke were both stewards in the kitchen, but Zhao Ke worked on the kitchen floor—not because he was weak, but because he was the chief knife master of the kitchen, having received the emperor’s commendation many times.

Unfortunately, such commendations paled in comparison to the honor of winning the Golden Taste Medal.

Qian Shanduo was also a steward, but it had been ages since he’d produced a dish worthy of commendation.

Narrow-minded as he was, Qian Shanduo grew jealous of Zhao Ke and, in the end, sought revenge.

That year, eight years ago, Zhao Ke, after winning several commendations, set his sights on the Golden Taste Medal. He took a month’s leave to perfect his knife skills and refine an original signature dish.

At last, Zhao Ke emerged, presenting his masterpiece—the divine dish “Immortal Descends to the Sea.”

It was a culinary marvel, uniting the eight treasures of land and sea, seasoned with thirty-six spices, and arranged to depict the map of the Great Qi Kingdom. From the very first cut, there was no room for the slightest mistake.

Only Zhao Ke possessed such knife skills. But Qian Shanduo interfered—he secretly swapped Zhao Ke’s dish, placing Zhao Ke’s name tag on an intentionally ruined dish: an ordinary steamed fish, unpurged of its muddy odor.

At this point, Ming Tian finally understood.

The Golden Taste Medal that Qian Shanduo flaunted had rightfully belonged to Zhao Ke!

This haggard man before him was the true master chef of the kitchen.

“That fish—the emperor tasted it and flew into a rage, demanding my execution. I never expected Qian Shanduo to come to me then and say that, if he pleaded with the emperor on my behalf, I’d be spared, allowed to remain in the kitchen. I thought he had a shred of conscience, but then… he… he…”

Zhao Ke could no longer speak for sobbing. After a long moment, he finally shouted out the greatest pain in his heart: “He used it to blackmail me and my wife—and… he defiled my wife…”

With that, this man, nearly fifty years old, could no longer restrain himself. He collapsed to the floor, weeping bitterly.

Men do not easily shed tears; nor do they kneel without cause. In this moment, Ming Tian grasped the depth of humiliation this man had endured, working all these years in the kitchen.

No doubt, he too longed for the day he could reclaim his honor.

Sadly, while Qian Shanduo was despicable, he was also cautious. No wonder he forbade Zhao Ke from helping me with the Phoenix Crystal earlier!

“Stand up.” Ming Tian’s voice was devoid of emotion. “If you have even a shred of pride left, then stand up.”

His words carried a forceful impact, his tone fit to rouse the heart.

Zhao Ke looked up, his tear-filled eyes cloudy with age. “Young man, I know you can’t accept this, but you can’t win against Qian Shanduo!”

“Can’t win? Don’t talk nonsense! How would you know if you haven’t even tried?” Ming Tian, heedless of his own injuries, hauled Zhao Ke to his feet. “Uncle Zhao, a man can die standing, but never live kneeling! You’ve endured enough—now it’s time to reclaim your honor!”

Ming Tian’s eyes burned with such intensity that Zhao Ke averted his gaze, unable to meet them. “Easy to say, but how do we fight? The Imperial Supervisors and the poison-testing eunuchs are all in his pocket. If you’re thinking of poison, forget it. Unless… unless… but that’s impossible. We’re just ordinary chefs—we have no right…”

“We can do it!” Ming Tian, realizing that Zhao Ke was thinking along the same lines, declared solemnly, “Maybe we’re not allowed in the palace halls, but all we need to do is lure the emperor down to the Imperial Kitchen!”

Lure the emperor to the Imperial Kitchen?

In ancient times, that was all but impossible! Zhao Ke, with thirty years of experience, knew this better than anyone—he had never even seen the emperor himself!

This child actually claimed he could use cooking to draw the sovereign into their kitchen?

Could it be true?

“Trust me!” Ming Tian’s eyes radiated unshakable resolve.

Zhao Ke looked at Ming Tian, recalling his own past and his wife…

He lowered his head to look at the red-corded jade Buddha in his hand.

Humiliation, helplessness, and the yearning to reclaim his honor all crashed through his heart.

Maybe this young man could do it!

That Phoenix Crystal had already achieved unprecedented glory for the kitchen, prompting the emperor to take eleven consecutive bites—an astonishing record.

If not for Qian Shanduo’s Golden Taste Medal, that Phoenix Crystal alone would have earned another medal!

And that was Ming Tian’s very first dish in the kitchen, made under intense time pressure.

Live or die, it didn’t matter.

Deep in his soul, the fire long extinguished sparked again within Zhao Ke—the dignity of a true chef!

“As long as Qian Shanduo pays the price, Ming Tian, I’ll do whatever you ask!”

Excellent!

Seeing that Zhao Ke now trusted him completely, Ming Tian smiled.

“So, young man, what dish do you plan to make that you think can lure the emperor to our kitchen?”

“Well… Zhao Ke, I was lucky. When I was young, I learned a legendary, lost recipe—a superlative dish!”

“A superlative dish?”

“Yes. This dish is the very essence of Chinese soups. To call it the best in the world would be an understatement. It gathers all flavors under heaven. Legend says that even a Buddha, secluded in the Western Paradise and free from earthly desires, would be tempted to renounce monkhood by its fragrance.”

“What? Could such a dish exist? What is it called?”

“It is called: Supreme Fragrant Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.”

…