The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 102

Lu Baiyu felt something was off.

He had received updates from Deputy Director He at the competition venue, who assured him everything was going smoothly. 

Jiang Tingzhou and Zhang Xiaocong were having a pleasant conversation, and there was no sign that the Xiushui Group was dissatisfied. He also informed Lu Baiyu that Jiang Tingzhou had already left the backstage area immediately after the competition concluded.

Since he didn’t see Jiang Tingzhou backstage, Lu Baiyu didn’t linger. Instead, he turned around and moved against the flow of the crowd, making his way back toward the competition venue.

There, he spotted Jiang Tingzhou at a glance.

Jiang Tingzhou was standing alone in the now-empty hall. The dishes from the competition still sat on the cooking tables, untouched since judging. While most of the plates had already been partially served to the judges, plenty of food remained.

Jiang Tingzhou stood there with a serious expression, methodically sampling the leftover dishes one by one.

Lu Baiyu noticed something was wrong and walked over. “Tingzhou, what’s the matter?” he asked.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t respond. After tasting several dishes, he simply stood there, frowning deeply as he processed his thoughts.

This was highly unusual.

He wasn’t a judge—he was an organizer. There was no reason for him to taste every contestant’s dish personally—especially since, at this stage of the competition, there were far too many participants for that.

Normally, with his level of experience, he could gauge the quality of a dish just by watching its preparation. Before the scores were even announced, he was usually able to predict the outcome—and he was rarely wrong.

But this time was different.

Seeing Jiang Tingzhou’s troubled expression, Lu Baiyu guessed what might be going on.

“There’s something wrong with the dish?” he asked.

Only then did Jiang Tingzhou finally speak. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I think someone cheated.”

In the first round, the 40 contestants had been divided into 10 groups. Only the top chef from each group would advance to the finals, making the competition brutal—only one could win per group.

While results from the other nine groups largely aligned with Jiang Foods expectations—even if some were close calls—this particular group didn’t sit right with him.

He stared at the remaining dishes. “The person who won this group… shouldn’t have.”

Lu Baiyu followed his gaze to the dish still on the table, checking the name tag.

The winner from this group, contestant No. 25, was Zhan Rui.

According to the display, Zhan Rui’s main dish was Lobster and Mushroom with Balsamic Vinegar, paired with a salad. Due to the random removal of a key seasoning, his balsamic vinegar had been taken away.

Vinegar provides acidity and distinct aroma, especially balsamic vinegar. But natural substitutes exist—like lemon.

Zhan Rui had adapted accordingly. He used lemon juice instead and created a new sauce—lobster vinaigrette.

“For this vinaigrette, he used shrimp oil, shrimp broth, lemon juice, and cognac,” Jiang Tingzhou analyzed. “Also honey, salt, and black pepper.”

Even though he hadn’t watched Zhan Rui closely during the round, Jiang Tingzhou’s palate allowed him to identify the ingredients with ease.

The sauce had a strong shrimp flavor, a pronounced acidity, and a vibrant orange-yellow color with a hint of red—visually striking under the camera.

“There’s nothing wrong with the concept,” Jiang said. “But he didn’t balance the proportions. His execution wasn’t good. The proportions are off—the flavor is a bit too heavy.”

Lu Baiyu picked up a clean spoon and tried it for himself. Though not a professional chef, he had eaten countless fine dishes in his life—his judgment wasn’t bad.

“You’re right,” he said after tasting. “The color is beautiful, but the flavor is unrefined.”

The dish wasn’t terrible—maybe a 7 out of 10—but the sauce was overly intense, likely adjusted for color rather than flavor. Worse, the lobster wasn’t properly handled either.

Visually, the dish stood out. The lobster, the elegant plating—it might impress on first glance. But in this competition, the standard was sky-high. Many contestants were top-level chefs, presenting creations that genuinely wowed the judges.

This dish’s taste wasn’t up to par.

If the other contestants in the group had been subpar, Zhan Rui winning might have made sense. But that wasn’t the case. Another contestant—No. 26—had performed exceptionally well, presenting a baked stuffed crab shell.

Like lobster, crab is seafood. Although his dish had cooled slightly by now, the crab meat still retained its sweetness, and the stuffing was rich and layered—bringing together land, sea, and air in one bite.

Jiang Tingzhou had paid special attention to contestant No. 26’s process—more so than even Tao Jintian. He had been impressed by the innovation, the technique, and the final product.

By all measures, this dish should have been the winner—not just in the group, but among the standouts of the entire round.

Yet not only did this contestant lose, Zhan Rui won with a surprisingly high score.

If one or two judges had personal taste preferences, fine—the highest and lowest scores were always removed before averaging. With seven judges present, the final score should have been fair. 

But this group’s results were bizarre.

Jiang Tingzhou had sensed something wrong even while watching the broadcast. But he didn’t want to interfere midstream. This was a live event, and accusing someone of cheating without evidence could damage the competition’s credibility.

So he waited until after the match to taste for himself.

Now, after tasting the dishes, his suspicions were confirmed.

“There’s a problem with this contestant,” he said coldly. “And there’s a problem with the judges in this group. Unless they all lost their sense of taste at the same time, there’s no way they’d give that score. I was careless.”

Of course, not all 70 judges had been handpicked by him. Judges were randomly assigned to contestant groups. Nothing had seemed suspicious until now.

But he couldn’t keep an eye on everything. The competition had grown too large, too complex, and not all the staff were people he trusted. It wasn’t impossible for someone to have manipulated things—swapping groups, bribing judges.

And Zhan Rui? He had the background for it.

His family owned a popular chain of Western restaurants. He had good looks, came from a wealthy background, and had returned from overseas. The competition welcomed Western cuisine, and he had tricks up his sleeve—some awards and a polished image. He was already popular online.

Which meant that once public voting began, he’d cruise through smoothly.

He had dared to pull such tricks right in front of him!

Jiang Tingzhou knew every contestant’s profile. The more he thought about it, the darker his expression became.

At that moment, the venue’s big screen automatically switched to a feed from an outdoor stall camera. Coincidentally, the livestream camera zoomed in on Zhan Rui and lingered on a close-up shot.

Unlike the other contestants, who were happily eating snacks, Zhan Rui kept a polite smile, holding a small cake and only nibbling symbolically. He looked more like a celebrity posing for fan photos than a chef.

He basked in the winner’s spotlight.

A fan approached him, smiling brightly: “I really like you! Make sure to win in the finals!”

Zhan Rui replied confidently, “Of course. I’ll definitely win the gold medal.”

Even the fan paused awkwardly at that.

Then she laughed it off: “Haha, aiming high is good! I wish you all the best.”

The finals would award one gold, two silvers, and one bronze. The other finalists would receive certificates of excellence.

Even to a supportive fan, it was obvious Zhan Rui wasn’t a top-tier finalist. He wasn’t untalented, but compared to someone like Cai Yuan—whose background was less flashy but whose skills were far superior—he didn’t stand out.

Setting a lofty goal wasn’t unusual. But when Zhan Rui said it, it was with such certainty—as if the trophy was already his.

Jiang Tingzhou narrowed his eyes at the screen and called over Zeng Rong.

Upon hearing the accusation, Zeng Rong immediately denied it: “Impossible.”

But after tasting the leftover food, his expression changed. “It wasn’t me.”

Though he had many thoughts, he hadn’t done such a thing. His own niece, Ye Shunxin, didn’t receive any special treatment—he wouldn’t cheat for a stranger.

Lu Baiyu stepped in, trying to calm the situation.

“Tingzhou, with how much attention this competition has drawn, some people were bound to try something. Luckily we caught this before the finals. I don’t think Director Zeng did this—but we’ll need real evidence. Something the public can see and trust.”

Jiang Tingzhou knew he was right.

He hadn’t lost control—he knew they couldn’t just summon everyone to re-taste cold leftovers and overturn a finalist’s qualification. Even if the organizers agreed, how would they convince the audience?

Taste is subjective.

The judges’ scores had been aired live. Zhan Rui’s dish had already been praised online. Without concrete proof, saying “it’s not good enough” wasn’t enough.

That would only damage the credibility of the entire event.

“We need to investigate—immediately,” Jiang Tingzhou said firmly. “We must find hard evidence before the public voting ends. I don’t think it’s just the judges. Someone else helped him.” He turned to Zeng Rong. “Find those judges. Talk to them. I want answers.”

Then he began making calls—reaching out to key personnel, including Zhou Bing and Du Juan, even though they hadn’t been heavily involved in this stage.

He would not entrust this to anyone else.

He would handle it personally.