The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 134

At the Shangying branch, there were originally six chefs in the kitchen. Now, three of them—including the head chef—were missing. Half the kitchen had essentially collapsed.

And there were only a few hours left before the tasting banquet began at 6 p.m.

When the chefs first failed to show up, no one panicked. The schedule had been padded with some buffer time, and Tao Kang was still reachable.

On the phone, he remained polite. He apologized to the manager and explained that all three chefs were in the same car, currently stuck in traffic, and would be late. He asked them to wait a little longer.

Traffic jams were common in Shangying. 

When time passed and no one arrived, the manager didn’t push too hard. He simply directed the remaining chefs to begin prep.

But as the minutes ticked by—fifteen, twenty, thirty—and still no sign of them, the atmosphere in the restaurant began to shift. Something was clearly wrong.

The store manager called again and again. Tao Kang, on the other end, offered one excuse after another. But even in the worst traffic, the chefs lived close enough to the restaurant that they should have arrived by now.

Nothing about it made sense. Alarmed, the manager began trying to find replacements.

Tao Jintian was in the Yongqing flagship store, busy with his own preparation. That location had the largest dining area and would be hosting over a hundred guests.

When he heard the news in the kitchen, he was stunned.

“What?!”

He checked the time, his anxiety already mounting. He couldn’t believe it—Tao Kang had the nerve to pull this now?

Waiters could be replaced. Chefs couldn’t. This wasn’t just a setback—it was sabotage.

Suppressing his fury, he called Tao Kang directly. His first words were: “Where are you? You want me to leave the stove unattended at a time like this?! Get back here, now!”

Tao Kang was quiet for a moment, then muttered, “I really am stuck in traffic…”

“You’re still feeding me that crap right now?!” Tao Jintian slammed the table in fury. “Listen carefully: if you’re back here in five minutes, I’ll give you a chance. If not, I’ll take our contract straight to court and sue you for breach. Don’t force me to cut ties.”

He assumed Tao Kang was trying to extort more money. Short-sighted and completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation, Tao Kang was threatening him at the worst possible moment. But Tao Jintian wouldn’t give in.

For the first time, he spoke with real authority. Maybe it startled Tao Kang, because after a pause, the man backed down.

“Okay, okay, I lost my head. I’m on my way. Don’t be mad—we’re family. I’d never hurt you. Give me ten minutes. Just ten.”

Tao Jintian exhaled slowly. He figured they could settle the rest later.

Just then, Jiang Tingzhou walked into the kitchen—looking serious, and not alone. Wen Qi followed him in, and so did someone who hadn’t been seen in a while: Mr. Lu.

Lu Baiyu had just returned to Yongqing. He’d come straight from the airport. It was drizzling outside; fine droplets of rain still clung to his hair and shoulders. He stayed close behind Jiang Tingzhou, even closer than Wen Qi.

News of the chef situation at Shangying had reached Jiang Tingzhou almost immediately.

Seeing Jiang Tingzhou, Tao Jintian grew flustered. Embarrassed by his failure to control the kitchen, he rushed to explain, “Boss Jiang, I’ve already found them. He said—”

“Hang up,” Jiang Tingzhou said calmly. “Enough. Don’t waste another second on him.”

Startled, Tao Jintian obeyed and ended the call. “But he said…”

“He’s already made up his mind to quit,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “He’s just stalling until we can’t respond. Even if he wanted to return now, I wouldn’t take him back.”

Lu Baiyu, observing quietly, added, “If he truly wanted to return, he would’ve done it already. Even if it was about money, he should’ve called with conditions, not waited for us to beg. That tells you everything—you don’t need to keep negotiating.”

Tao Jintian understood instantly. He said no more. No defense, no excuses for his relative. Just a heavy sigh of guilt. “Boss Jiang, I’m sorry. I should’ve handled this earlier.”

He had gambled that Tao Kang wouldn’t risk pulling something like this—but he’d been wrong. And now, it was his own family who had stabbed him in the back.

Losing a chef at this moment was fatal. Even if they borrowed staff from other restaurants, it would be too late to train them in Jinyuhui’s refined dishes. Even if someone was skilled, they couldn’t step in as head chef overnight.

Still, Jiang Tingzhou didn’t look angry.

What good would anger do now? The penalty for breaching the contract was steep—Tao Kang had to have someone backing him. Clearly, someone had planned this to catch them off guard.

He turned to Tao Jintian. “Let it go. When someone wants to leave, you can’t stop them. This isn’t the time for blame. We solve the problem first.”

Then, Jiang Tingzhou loosened his tie, removed his coat, and quickly grabbed an apron from the hook. He tied it on, pulled on a mask, and headed for the stove.

He had dressed formally to host tonight’s banquet—but now, none of that mattered.

Turning to Wen Qi, he said, “Go out and host the guests for me. You’ll handle everything out front tonight. I’ll take over the kitchen.”

Jiang Tingzhou had observed and helped when Tao Jintian developed the dishes. Some of them were based on his own modifications—he could cook them.

With three chefs down, they had to shift people. One chef from each of the other two restaurants would be reassigned. Tao Jintian would have to go to Shangying himself. At least one skilled chef needed to be present in each kitchen.

It would stretch them thin, but it was the only option.

Wen Qi’s face filled with worry. “Tingzhou, are you sure? Can’t we think of another way?”

This banquet wasn’t just a meal—it was a major networking event. Jiang Tingzhou was supposed to use this to meet key industry figures, build connections. But now he was filling a gap in the kitchen.

Still, Lu Baiyu didn’t stop him. Quietly, he took Jiang Tingzhou’s coat and tie. The coat was still warm from his body, and smelled faintly of rosin.

“I’ll handle any social needs later,” Lu Baiyu said. “Go ahead, Tingzhou. I’ll have someone drive Tao Jintian over, but it’ll take over an hour.”

Time was short, and simply shuffling staff wouldn’t be enough. More gaps remained.

The three restaurants were serving over a hundred guests tonight, with sixteen dishes per table—from starters to desserts. Many dishes had complex steps and couldn’t be rushed.

Already at the stove, Jiang Tingzhou worked fast and thought faster. “If we can’t keep up, change the menu. Replace complex dishes with simpler ones that still meet the standard. We just need to serve everything on time.”

Sudden menu changes were risky—but necessary.

Lu Baiyu had been quietly thinking, too. He hadn’t had more than a few words with Jiang Tingzhou since arriving. Now, he stepped forward.

“Tingzhou, I have an idea.”

He didn’t know much about kitchen work—but there were always other ways. Leaning in, he whispered something in Jiang Tingzhou’s ear.

Jiang Tingzhou blinked. “They’ll make it in time?”

“In time,” Lu Baiyu assured. “They’re leaving now. Please trust me. And trust Lu Group.”

It was a risk—but possibly the only solution. 

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

As time passed, guests began arriving. The three restaurants grew lively.

Jinyuhui’s interior was luxuriously styled, with a fresh take on modern Chinese aesthetics. The venue had been specially decorated for the occasion. Media reporters and influencers entered with cameras and began filming the atmosphere.

Li Shuyan and the Li family managed the CBD store in Yongqing. The Zhou family oversaw Shangying. Originally, Jiang Tingzhou had been in charge of the sugar factory branch, but now Wen Qi had taken over. Zeng Rong came to help after hearing the news. Even Lu Baiyu had stepped in.

They were keeping up appearances, just barely.

Still, a meddlesome guest at one table remarked, “I heard a chef didn’t show up today. Mr. Jiang’s off to a rough start. Are we even getting food tonight?”

Wen Qi smiled calmly. “Chef missing? That’s news to me. I just saw Chef Tao in the kitchen—he’s already prepping. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful evening.”

Zeng Rong added cheerfully, “You’re kidding, right? Any chef who bails at a time like this would be blacklisted across the industry. Don’t you think?”

The guest chuckled awkwardly and didn’t press further.

Wen Qi’s composure held, but under the table, his clenched fists were soaked with sweat.

He didn’t know if Lu Baiyu’s plan would succeed. But right now, he truly hoped that this love rival could help Jiang Tingzhou pull through.

Tonight’s tasting banquet had a unique structure. To preserve a sense of mystery, no menus were distributed. It was a prix fixe meal—each guest received a preset sequence of dishes.

The first course, naturally, was soup.

Chinese cuisine emphasizes warming the stomach first, and on a cold, rainy day like today, a hot soup was perfect.

Fortunately, the chef in charge of soups hadn’t quit. All branches had soup ready on time: dendrobium and American ginseng pigeon soup. It was fragrant and nourishing, with the medicinal taste carefully balanced, leaving only a rich aroma.

Next came the appetizers.

The first two dishes were Shredded Beef in Chili Sauce and Cold Tossed Bamboo Shoots with Bean Sprouts and Sesame. The kitchen had deliberately rearranged the serving order to ensure timely delivery.

The beef dish was pre-prepared and plated cold—no chef required. The bamboo shoot salad was even simpler: blanch fresh vegetables and toss with sauce. Well-trained prep staff could handle it.

When the soup and starters hit the table, guests began nodding appreciatively.

The stew warmed them inside and out. The beef was tender and spicy. The spring bamboo shoots—fresh, crisp, and perfectly in season—whetted the appetite. Though pricey, the flavor rivaled top-tier Chinese restaurants charging thousands per head.

“A chef from a competition really is something else!” one guest exclaimed. “And Mr. Jiang’s attention to detail—you can taste Gongyan influence. He was born to run a restaurant!”

Praise was welcome—but anticipation for the main courses was rising.

The third dish was originally meant to be Garlic Pork Slices—a classic cold appetizer in Chinese cuisine. Though not the most complex, it demanded skill: perfectly timed cooking, uniform slicing, meticulous plating, and balanced sauce. Tao Jintian had personally refined the recipe. Done properly, it showcased the restaurant’s standards—and couldn’t be easily substituted.

It was a Sichuan staple. Of course it had to be on Jinyuhui’s menu. 

But tonight, with time running out and no chef to make it…

That dish might have to be cut.