The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 20

Jiang Tingzhou had a great retirement plan—what he didn’t expect was his inability to adapt.

The sudden leisure left him at a loss.

Other than waiting for someone to come clean the yard, the only thing he had scheduled was a dinner on Friday—tomorrow night—with An Xiaoping and Tian Hui, who would be off work by then. Jiang Tingzhou needed to prepare for it and treat it as a sort of housewarming.

Beyond that, there was nothing on his agenda.

Jiang Tingzhou thought hard for a while and finally remembered the doctor’s advice: to do half an hour of wellness exercises every day.

Right, wellness exercises!

He finally had something to do, so he happily practiced a section of Baduanjin in the courtyard.

The sun gradually rose, and the morning breeze was very comfortable.

Jiang Tingzhou broke the doctor’s advice and exercised for an hour. He finally made it to 8:30 when the hired cleaner arrived and knocked on the door. Only then did Jiang Tingzhou breathe a sigh of relief.

The cleaner was specifically hired for the yard. Jiang also contracted a housekeeping service to take care of the interior, but the courtyard had been uninhabited for over half a year. Weeds had grown rampant, and after a minor wall renovation, construction debris made things even messier. A specialist was needed for the cleanup.

This particular cleaner lived nearby and was recommended by the real estate agent. He was known to be efficient and had a pleasant personality.

Cheerfully, he greeted, “We haven’t had a new neighbor move into our street in a long time. What brings you here?”

“I’m retired now,” Jiang replied. “Planning to rest and relax here.”

The cleaner laughed. “You don’t look like it.”

He looked far too young to be retired.

And he didn’t seem the type to sit still—sweating from just finishing a workout, not like those who just sat and waited for workers. As the cleaner got to work, Jiang still busied himself fetching water for him.

The worker moved quickly and took a sickle from his toolbox to clear weeds. As he started, he pointed to the ground. “Boss, look, there’s a tomato seedling here. Want it?”

Jiang Tingzhou brought a cup of water and leaned over to look. The tomato was small. The weeds had robbed its nutrients, so the leaves curled and drooped, but it had grown several leaves. Some tomatoes were already ripened and had fallen, others were still green.

Previously hidden under all the weeds, Jiang hadn’t even noticed it was still alive.

“Probably not,” the worker said, examining it. He raised his sickle. “It won’t grow well.”

Jiang Tingzhou hurriedly stopped him. “Hey, wait, I see there are still seeds here…”

But before he finished speaking, the sickle came down. The tomato plant was already hacked down, lying limp on the ground.

“This variety isn’t good, boss. The seeds don’t taste good, and it won’t grow big,” the worker explained when he saw Jiang Tingzhou’s face. “Better to just cut it—it would’ve died anyway.”

The seedling fell crookedly to one side, green seeds dropping off.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t know the variety but carefully picked up the seeds. They smelled fresh, green, and astringent like tomatoes.

“These aren’t bad at all.” Looking at the unripe tomatoes, Jiang Tingzhou felt sorry and couldn’t bear to waste food. “Don’t cut them next time. They’re useful.”

The worker didn’t see the use in the dying seedlings but respected his employer.

From then on, Jiang Tingzhou followed him closely, afraid he’d chop something else.

As the weeds cleared, the rest of the yard gradually became visible.

Beside the tomato had been some eggplants, now completely dead from nutrient loss. Next to that were four green chili plants—stubborn survivors, still bearing quite a bit of fruit.

Jiang picked one and sniffed it. The pungency hit his nose, making him sneeze repeatedly.

The chili was hotter than expected—very strong in flavor.

Thankfully, he was keeping watch. These four chili plants survived. Jiang watered them and noticed the worker clearing a patch where napa cabbage had been planted.

The cabbage was beyond saving—leaves mostly devoured by bugs. Carrots had been planted nearby but were buried under weeds and barely hanging on.

The cleaner had never seen such a nitpicky client. Who’d want these ruined vegetables? But Jiang insisted on inspecting them.

He peeled the cabbage repeatedly until only a small core the size of half a palm remained. He didn’t throw it away but set it aside carefully. He also pulled carrots, digging out a few edible but crooked ones.

After cleaning, the other green vegetables were nearly rotten. Some flowers in the corner grew well, but Jiang Tingzhou cared more about the edible plants.

He felt like the house was a treasure trove. Behind it, pumpkins grew. Under a collapsed wall rack, cucumbers and beans grew, though their fruits were old. After cleaning, he picked an edible cucumber and a handful of beans.

He carefully stored the vegetables, treating them like treasures.

The worker advised, “Throw them away. They’re not worth much. Better to buy good stuff outside.”

“No, no, no, these are fresh. I think they’re delicious,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “If you don’t believe me now, you’ll see later.”

He checked the time. It was nearly 11:00.

He felt time passed quickly, quite different from the slow boredom of early morning.

Earlier, he went to the market and bought a large piece of very good beef.

The kitchen used a gas stove. Jiang Tingzhou bought a convenient pot yesterday. There was even a clay stove outside, but it needed firewood and it was late, so the gas stove would do.

He washed the vegetables and moved his wrist.

After his hand injury, he occasionally cooked simple dishes that didn’t require strength or pan flipping. Though not unfamiliar with cooking, he was skilled with a knife.

He cut the beef into pieces. One part was cubed to make beef stew with vegetables.

He simmered the colored peppers, carrots, pumpkins, and beans in a pressure cooker with thick sauce, then transferred it to a casserole to stew until the beef was tender and the vegetables absorbed the rich meaty flavor.

Another piece was cut into chopstick-thick strips to stir-fry with the green peppers.

This simple dish was fresh and fragrant, something anyone could cook. The important part was the right temperature. The spicy green peppers and beef filled the air with aroma. The cleaner outside sniffed and looked toward the kitchen, his nose twitching.

It smelled so good.

Jiang Tingzhou finally used the cabbage core to make mushy cabbage soup.

Though ingredients were limited, the three dishes were enough for him and the cleaner.

The cleaner hadn’t expected to be fed lunch, but the aroma had long made his stomach grumble. As the dishes were served, he couldn’t wait any longer.

As soon as the food was served, the fatigue of the morning’s work vanished instantly.

It smelled so good, and tasted even better than it smelled.

It was obviously a common dish, made with ingredients that most people would discard at first glance, yet it actually tasted this good.

Before his mind could catch up, the chopsticks in his hand had already reached out for the next dish.

As a cook, Jiang Tingzhou didn’t eat much and ate more slowly than most people. After finishing, he even felt a little guilty, thinking his cooking skills might have regressed somewhat.

After all, it had been a long time since his rebirth that he made complicated dishes. He felt the fresh pepper beef was slightly overcooked; it would’ve been better if cooked a little less. The beef stewed with vegetables would benefit from simmering over low heat longer to bring out better flavor. Although the ingredients were fresh, they missed their peak picking time. Overall, the meal was passable.

He still needed to practice his cooking more.

He slowly finished a small bowl of rice, while the worker opposite him devoured the entire table of dishes like a glutton.

Jiang Tingzhou asked, “Mister, don’t you feel full?”

He didn’t mind that the worker ate a lot—physical labor required more food—but the man was clearly full, yet still stuffed the last bit of soup in the casserole with rice and finished it.

Unable to speak from fullness, the man just gave him a thumbs up.

“I’m convinced, boss. That food was gold. If I’d known lunch was gonna be like this, I would’ve paid to work here.”

After a full meal, the worker’s attitude did a complete 180. In the morning, he complained about being followed and nitpicked and having too much to do, but in the afternoon, he had no complaints at all, and his energy was clearly better too.

As for Jiang Tingzhou—he finally found something to do in the afternoon.

Serving guests just three dishes was a bit inconsiderate, but time was tight at noon. There were also some cucumbers that had been picked. He tasted them and thought they were edible but a bit old, so not suitable for cooking.

He took some white tea, sliced the cucumbers, brewed tea with them, and put it in the refrigerator for a while. Soon, it became frozen cucumber white tea, very refreshing and perfect for drinking in the afternoon.

The remaining pumpkin was steamed and mashed into a puree, which he planned to use for making old-fashioned pumpkin pies.

Besides the pumpkin filling, the old-fashioned pumpkin pie needed a round biscuit. He bought it from the store. He could walk ten minutes to the market to buy old-fashioned calcium milk biscuits from the old bakery, which had a strong milky flavor. The pumpkin filling mixed with glutinous rice flour was soft and sticky. Jiang Tingzhou didn’t like overly sweet food, and the taste was just right—sweet but not greasy.

This kind of snack was fried in a pan and paired perfectly with the refreshing cucumber tea, especially in the slightly hot afternoon weather.

This was the afternoon tea he served today.

The pumpkin pie fresh from the pan was the best. The biscuit became crispier and more delicious after frying. The pumpkin and glutinous rice filling was steaming hot and not greasy. Jiang Tingzhou ate slowly while the worker, obviously full, couldn’t resist eating one.

With nothing else to do, Jiang Tingzhou made a lot of pumpkin cakes. Many were left over, so seeing that the worker liked them, he wrapped some up to take home.

“These aren’t very good cold,” he said. “You can heat them in the oven later; they’ll taste better. Thanks for your hard work today.”

The worker worked efficiently, cleaning the whole yard thoroughly. Some fallen shelves were propped up and nailed for him. It was probably rare for an employer like Jiang Tingzhou to treat guests seriously, so the master worked very carefully.

The yard was clean, the master thanked him, took his pay, and left. Jiang Tingzhou had nothing to do again. He sat on the doorstep, ate the last half of a pumpkin cake, and waited for the sun to set.

He didn’t know what he’d do tomorrow. His “hobbies” column in the retirement plan remained blank.

But soon after, there was a knock at the door.

Jiang Tingzhou put the last bite of pumpkin cake in his mouth and looked through the iron door. It was the cleaning master.

He smiled, showing his white teeth, then handed Jiang Tingzhou a plastic bag.

Jiang Tingzhou looked inside and found several tomatoes, including small tomatoes. They were very fresh and looked freshly picked.

“You really can cook. I’m convinced. But your tomato plant—seriously—was no good. Not like the ones we grow. I didn’t chop it for nothing,” he said. “These are from my place. Try them.”

Jiang Tingzhou touched one. The tomato skin was still a little bluish-black, clearly freshly picked. As soon as he opened the bag, the rich tomato fragrance wafted out. The small tomatoes came in all colors—red, yellow, and green—like an overturned painter’s palette.

The worker urged, “Try them quickly.”

Jiang Tingzhou was stunned for a moment, then picked a few at random and bit into them.

The red tomatoes had the strongest flavor, the yellow ones were the sweetest, and the green ones gave him a crisp honeydew-like taste.

He’d had these multicolored tomatoes before, but never this fresh—just picked and washed. The flavor was nothing like what he’d bought at market stalls.

“These all from your garden?” he asked.

“Seriously! If you don’t believe me, come look,” the man said, pointing behind him. “I live just there.”

Jiang headed over immediately.

He had never been inside someone else’s yard. He thought his own garden was fairly impressive—especially compared to An Xiaoping’s barren lot with just a persimmon tree and a few pepper vines.

But this garden put his to shame.

It was vibrant and lush. Just the tomato section contained five or six varieties, all bearing heavily. The man picked one and said, “This one’s my favorite—it’s called Sweet Aperitif. Try it.”

The tomato looked ordinary, red, but biting into it revealed thin skin, juicy flesh, and high sweetness.

Even as a seasoned chef, Jiang was surprised by the flavor—it was especially delicious, and most importantly, fresh.

For a chef, freshness was everything. Simple cooking could elevate a dish if the ingredients were top-notch.

Jiang Tingzhou’s restaurant had stable supply channels, and many ingredients were imported. Though expedited shipping kept meat fresh enough to eat immediately, vegetable freshness couldn’t compare to freshly picked ones grown locally.

He looked around. Besides tomatoes, there were lush greens, various vegetables, cucumbers and loofahs, perfume lemons and pomegranate trees, chicken feather vegetables, lettuces, cabbages, and more, all exuding a refreshing fragrance.

This place looked so peaceful and beautiful.

Jiang Tingzhou looked carefully, already calculating how he might make money from this. He seriously asked about the price.

The worker laughed. “We don’t sell them. Besides, they’re just some tomatoes. We plant them for fun. I’ll give you a few seedlings. You can plant them yourself. You have such a big yard. You can grow a lot. You won’t be able to eat it all.”

Jiang Tingzhou asked, “Can I really do that? I’ve never planted before.”

“It’s easy to grow vegetables. Sprinkle some fertilizer, water them, and they grow by themselves. I’ll give you some seedlings later,” the master smiled. “You said you retired? My parents took it up after retiring too. They’re nearly ninety and still going strong.”

Jiang Tingzhou felt reassured hearing that. He glanced at the two elderly people sitting there; they looked energetic and didn’t seem that old.

“You’re right,” Jiang Tingzhou nodded. “I’ll try it.”

He returned home with a full load: a bag of tomatoes and a small tomato seedling, a trade for his bag of pumpkin pies.

The seedlings were small, about ten to twenty centimeters tall. Before sunset, he picked a spot, turned the soil as instructed, and planted the seedlings one by one. They would take four or five months to grow and bear fruit.

Though a chef, Jiang Tingzhou had never grown vegetables before.

At first, he worried the tomato leaves looked a bit wilted. But by 5:30 the next morning, when he went to check, the seedlings swayed their green leaves slightly in the breeze—so vibrant.

With enough water and fertilizer, the reward would come. That was the simple rule of farming. No scheming or backstabbing required.

He really found it interesting.

That “hobbies” column in his retirement plan had always been blank. But that night, he solemnly wrote in one word—Farming.