The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 120

The chefs who had just arrived were stunned by the chaotic scene before them. 

Some were visibly flustered, while others grew angry and started shouting:

“Boss Jiang! Something like this happened at my restaurant before—this has to be sabotage by competitors! Has anyone suspicious contacted you recently? It must be those people! Let’s expose them!”

Jiang Tingzhou raised a hand to calm them. “We don’t have solid evidence. What would we even expose right now?”

He knew full well that this was Zhong Qianqian’s doing—she’d orchestrated this mess after repeated provocations. But the others didn’t know that.

Even though Jiang Tingzhou now had a strong online presence and considerable public trust, public opinion wouldn’t help in this situation. It would just turn into a fruitless shouting match, and the other party might even turn around and smear him in return.

He had already called the police. They would conduct their investigation, but Jiang Tingzhou knew that even if they caught someone, it would only be a scapegoat. It wouldn’t trace back to Zhong Qianqian.

Since the damage was already done, what mattered most now wasn’t “justice”—it was resolving the immediate problem.

“Everyone, stick to the original plan,” he instructed. “Don’t panic. Will this really affect the store’s future?”

As always, Jiang Tingzhou was calm and steady. He quickly instructed the construction team to stop wasting time on explanations. The ruined work would be replaced immediately. They needed to get the surveillance cameras installed as soon as possible.

Tricks like this wouldn’t work again once cameras were up—next time, they’d catch the culprits in the act.

Spending more money on repairs was a minor issue. What really mattered was ensuring no one else got discouraged. As long as he held firm, everyone would regain their confidence.

“Then we’ll go back and practice again,” the chefs said. “The dishes for opening day must be flawless. Don’t worry, Boss Jiang—no matter what obstacles they throw at us, our restaurants will thrive.”

Wen Qi had also come along. Seeing the damage, he was naturally furious. Knowing they were being targeted, he couldn’t help but ask: “Boss Jiang, are we just going to let this go?”

“It’s not over,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “And I doubt this is the end of it.”

He’d weathered all kinds of storms before. A few days’ delay and extra renovation costs were nothing. Likewise, Zhong Qianqian wasn’t naive enough to think that a burst pipe would cause lasting harm. These were petty, underhanded tactics that a skilled construction crew could fix quickly.

Moreover, this incident would only make the sugar factory more vigilant going forward. The saboteurs wouldn’t get another chance.

So, was it really just a petty act of revenge?

Two days later, Wen Qi returned with new information.

He looked unusually serious as he leaned in to whisper something to Jiang Tingzhou, then handed him a stack of brightly colored flyers.

“Boss Jiang, just as you suspected, this isn’t some simple case of sabotage. The other side has been preparing for a while. There’s a newly renovated mall near the sugar factory—turns out they’ve set up a food street inside too. It wasn’t supposed to open this soon, but now they’re suddenly accelerating their schedule to beat us to launch.”

Jiang Tingzhou took the flyer.

He’d known that the area in the old district was undergoing major renovation, and that another food street was planned nearby. The space over there was smaller, more like a two-story shopping mall—the first floor was for clothing, the second for food.

The vibe there was more commercial. The restaurants were secondary to the clothing stores, while the sugar factory was closer to a leisure zone, long dominated by food offerings.

Although they were close in location, their positioning had originally been quite different. The sugar factory was near the morning market, another food-focused area, but there had been no direct competition—until now.

“Some restaurants over there changed owners,” Wen Qi explained. “Not what we’d heard before. I suspect they’re aiming directly at us.”

The first places opening there were a Jianghu-style eatery and a Northern cuisine restaurant—exactly clashing with Jiang Tingzhou’s positioning. Several other shops had been added too, with a grand momentum.

That mall sat on a major foot traffic route—many passersby naturally flowed through there.

“What bothers me more isn’t just the restaurants,” Wen Qi continued. “It’s the way they’re exploiting the chef competition. Look at this promo slogan.”

Jiang Tingzhou glanced at the flyer.

“Chef Competition Champion Chef in Residence!”

That wasn’t right. Yu Li had gone home after finalizing the seasoning packet deal. Why would he suddenly head a random restaurant?

“You see the issue,” Wen Qi said grimly. “It’s not outright false advertising. They partnered with the champion of a previous season and used his title.”

There was no indication of which season, no photo of the chef. The champion from two years ago certainly had some skill, but whether he was actively involved was another matter. Still, the title was enough.

And that wasn’t the worst of it.

Many dishes featured in the flyer were popular from this year’s competition—signature hot dishes, northern specialties, even a potato-themed shop. All the names were exaggerated, clearly trying to piggyback off the competition’s fame.

“They’re banking on the attention from the chef competition,” Wen Qi said.

Jiang Tingzhou’s expression darkened. “Looks like they’re almost ready to open. That was fast.”

“Yes,” Wen Qi confirmed. “They’re doing a major publicity push starting today.”

At such a critical time, they weren’t just handing out flyers in person—they were saturating the internet too.

Jiang Tingzhou skimmed the promo and immediately understood who was behind it.

Unlike Jiang Tingzhou’s own transparent promotions through open platforms and short video sites, Zhong Qianqian’s approach relied heavily on private channels—WeChat Moments, public account articles—where the comments could be tightly controlled.

That created an echo chamber. People saw the promotions but lacked context. They didn’t know that the dishes and chef titles had little to do with this season’s competition.

Sure enough, when Jiang Tingzhou refreshed his feed, he saw a vibrant ad that looked almost official. If he hadn’t known better, he might’ve believed it was sanctioned by the chef competition.

The trouble was—it was hard to clarify.

Every word of the promo was technically true. There had been multiple champions. Anyone could recreate the same dishes. There was no copyright on recipes.

Jiang Tingzhou sighed. Zhong Qianqian really was an old fox in the restaurant business. This approach matched her belief that customers were easy to mislead.

“No wonder they caused the water pipe incident,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “This wasn’t just random sabotage—it was a move to delay us. Wen Qi, this is a coordinated attack.”

Water damage was time-consuming to fix. Wiring had to be redone. Jiang Tingzhou insisted on precision—he refused to cut corners. Even if the crew worked overtime, they wouldn’t be able to catch up.

Originally, Jiang Tingzhou had planned to open a few days later than the mall. Now, thanks to the delays, it would be a ten-day gap.

In business—especially the food industry—being first was critical. Customers followed the crowd. Most people didn’t have the patience to compare details. Whichever place looked livelier would win their attention.

Jiang Tingzhou had deliberately avoided using the chef competition’s name to promote his stores. After all, the chefs in his restaurants hadn’t placed highly, and Tao Jintian’s restaurant—despite his fame—wouldn’t open until April.

By letting Zhong Qianqian get ahead, he’d lost the initiative.

Wen Qi was still puzzled. “Is he really trying to crush us with just a few stores?”

A gimmick was just that—a gimmick. If the food wasn’t good, wouldn’t people figure it out eventually?

Jiang Tingzhou shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

Zhong Qianqian was far too cunning for such a shallow play. She must have had two plans all along: first, to get in on Jiang Tingzhou’s venture; if rejected, to launch her own and seize the market.

“How much profit can a few stores bring?” Jiang Tingzhou said. “She’s not trying to make a bit of money off a few dishes—she’s trying to make a lot of money.”

This was something Jiang Tingzhou had long suspected.

Zhong Qianqian’s real plan was to build a few flashy stores quickly, draw in investment under the guise of rapid success, and then sell franchising rights.

All she needed to do was give investors a tour of the “booming” restaurants. Of course, they’d be tempted.

Every franchise deal could earn tens of millions. It wouldn’t be hard to rake in a hundred or two hundred million. As for the franchisees? Their fate didn’t matter. The vague clauses in the contracts would ensure Zhong Qianqian could walk away clean after pocketing the profits.

In business, ups and downs were inevitable.

And even if someone reported her to Liu Ping, Zhong Qianqian wasn’t afraid. In the world of cutthroat competition, no one played nice.

Now Wen Qi fully understood. He’d heard of similar schemes—tricking franchisees with flashy openings. 

He grew anxious. “Boss Jiang, should we speed things up?”

He couldn’t control what others did. But letting someone exploit the name of the chef competition like this—well, that could hurt Jiang Tingzhou’s reputation too.

“Of course we’ll accelerate,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “But we won’t catch up. We’re still about a week behind.”

That was the earliest they could open properly.

Wen Qi asked, “Then what about them?”

“We can’t let them succeed,” Jiang Tingzhou said with a cold smile. “They poured water on us, right? Then I’ll pour oil on the fire.”