The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 24

In fact, they were already full halfway through the meal. After all, there were only five of them and a table full of dishes, and Jiang Tingzhou’s portions were particularly generous. But it felt like a pity to leave leftovers—wasting such good food always felt wrong—so they reluctantly kept eating until they were stuffed to the throat.

Everyone else probably felt the same, so the meal ended in a whirlwind of eating—quick and clean.

Now all of them lay on the couch, rubbing their stomachs and dazedly watching the soap opera on TV, completely in a food coma.

Jiang Tingzhou was the only one still doing fine. He stopped at just the right amount and didn’t rush while eating. Now, he casually watched TV while slowly enjoying his portion of glutinous rice balls for dessert.

Tian Hui couldn’t help but look at him.

He really didn’t look like a cook. He was thin, and after being discharged from the hospital, his face was noticeably pale. Wearing soft cotton clothes, he sat there quietly, eating dessert with a small spoon. The warm yellow light above him made his features look especially gentle and warm.

After getting to know him a little, Tian Hui was surprised.

Jiang Tingzhou had such sharp looks, yet he was so considerate to friends and cooked so deliciously.

Sometimes Tian Hui really hated that she wasn’t rich.

If possible, she wished she could keep Jiang Tingzhou at home like President Lu did—just for herself, cooking these kinds of dishes. That life would have been like a fairy tale.

But she didn’t dare say such things.

Suddenly, while looking at Jiang Tingzhou, she was distracted by something sparkling on the wall.

“Brother Jiang, there’s something flashing behind you.”

Jiang Tingzhou looked back and saw the ring.

The sapphire ring that Lu Baiyu brought over. Somehow, it ended up tied together with the spoon-shaped medal, and the diamonds in its setting were catching the light.

But it looked completely out of place hanging there.

Jiang Tingzhou reached out, removed the ring from the cord, didn’t even bother looking at it, and tossed it into the drawer beside him.

If they met again in the future, he would return it. But he hoped they wouldn’t meet again.

He knew that Lu Baiyu not accepting it at first was normal, which was why he left the ring behind. But eventually, Lu Baiyu would accept it.

Just like in his previous life.

“Brother Jiang, is this the medal you won when you got the award?” Tian Hui saw his action and asked, looking at the spoon medal. “It’s very special.”

“It is,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “The important thing is that it’s valuable.”

Even if it wasn’t prestigious as a medal anymore, the gold on it was still valuable.

After buying the house, he still had nearly two million in savings. He didn’t spend much in daily life. The interest from his bank deposits alone was enough to cover his meals, so not working wasn’t a problem.

But since life was unpredictable, if he ever lost all his money, he could sell this medal and survive—even if it meant opening a small food stall.

So he didn’t bother bringing all the certificates or trophies with him. He just refused to let the Jiang family keep using them. The only thing he brought was this medal—because it was worth money. It was his backup plan.

“Brother Jiang, with your skills, there’s no way you can’t make money. You’d make a fortune opening any kind of food stall,” Tian Hui said, getting hungry again. “Today’s meal is seriously the best I’ve ever had in my life. Especially the bamboo shoots in the fish soup—super, super fresh.”

“This year’s bamboo shoots are really good,” Jiang Tingzhou nodded. “Spring bamboo shoots are almost out of season. I want to make a fresh spring pot for everyone to try—it’s best eaten hot now. But I can’t find the right ham in the market, so I don’t make it. Putting bamboo shoots in the fish soup works well though.”

The market there was fairly well-stocked, but some things just couldn’t compare to the high-end quality he had access to at Gongyan. Especially that ham—it came from a specialty supplier he went out of town to find. A rural family that raised highland black pigs and cured the ham by hand. Their production was limited, and they only supplied to Gongyan.

The signature Gongyan dish “Fresh Spring Stew” used that ham as the base ingredient. It was a pity he couldn’t get it now, and without the right ingredients, he couldn’t recreate the taste—not even for himself. The other hams on the market just weren’t up to par.

Some dishes simply couldn’t be saved by skill alone—if the ingredients weren’t top quality, it couldn’t make up for it.

Tian Hui was already full but couldn’t help drooling after hearing this.

Jiang Tingzhou considered them friends and liked their lively family personality. Naturally, he welcomed them to come more often. As long as they gave him a heads-up, he could prepare dishes in advance.

“I want to come, but I have to travel a lot now, so I can’t come back often.”

Tian Hui had been busy with her promotion lately. She was happy to hear Jiang Tingzhou say this but hesitated: “I won’t bother you too much, Brother Jiang. I’m afraid I’ll disturb your rest.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Tingzhou finished the last bite of his dessert. “Even if you don’t come, I don’t really rest anyway.”

He had to admit what Li Xu said made sense—people used to being busy couldn’t just stop whenever they wanted. They had to do something to feel comfortable.

But Jiang Tingzhou thought growing vegetables was much more meaningful than what he did with the Jiang family before.

An Xiaoping came out from the kitchen after doing the dishes and heard that last part.

He assumed Jiang Tingzhou was just being nice, telling Tian Hui not to feel guilty about visiting. But the next day, he realized Jiang Tingzhou meant it literally—his retired life was not what An Xiaoping imagined at all.

Because he ate too much the night before, An Xiaoping took some digestive tablets. Near bedtime, he exercised by running around the yard for a long time, afraid of gaining weight again.

He returned to his place across the courtyard and found everything looking neat and spotless. It felt like he’d moved into a new home. Living next to Jiang Tingzhou was just better. After the jog, he was still wide awake with excitement and a full stomach, so he tossed and turned until nearly 5 a.m.

It wasn’t a big deal for young people to stay up late sometimes, but just then, he heard Jiang Tingzhou opening the door.

The sound was faint, but An Xiaoping was awake and had sharp ears. He heard everything clearly, so he got up to use the bathroom. Through the hallway window, he saw Jiang Tingzhou fully dressed and about to head out.

“Brother, you couldn’t sleep either?” The sky was getting lighter. An Xiaoping was still groggy when he asked.

Jiang Tingzhou smiled and asked if he wanted breakfast brought back. An Xiaoping yawned and said no, then shook his head and went back to bed, not waking until after eleven.

When he stepped outside after washing up, he was stunned.

Because the courtyard looked completely different from what it did at 5 a.m.—now it was divided into neat sections.

An Xiaoping recalled that Jiang Tingzhou was planting vegetables when he came back yesterday. In his experience, ordinary families didn’t spend much effort planting vegetables—just casual watering and fertilizing. But Jiang Tingzhou clearly took it seriously.

He was meticulous even about planting vegetables.

Since the yard was on a hillside, it wasn’t square. Jiang Tingzhou turned over two plots and planted cream cabbage and tomatoes, plus four green pepper plants that were already growing well. When turning over the soil, it looked a bit messy.

He planned to plant many more things later and had to leave walking paths through the yard—especially since An Xiaoping was running around there yesterday. He thought planting everywhere wouldn’t be good and that paths were necessary.

After seeing off the Tian family last night, Jiang Tingzhou quickly sketched a simple yard map by hand, searched online for examples, and made a plan before going to bed.

The next morning, he went to the wholesale market and bought a bag of white pebbles, which he used to pave the paths he drew. The vegetable plot in the center was square, while the corners were irregular triangles or polygons, with paths left between.

He even tidied up the yard on An Xiaoping’s side, thinking that this way, it would look like they were one family.

Besides growing vegetables, he marked out a resting area under the persimmon tree, thinking it would be nice for everyone to eat in the yard when the weather was good.

Jiang Tingzhou worked fast and efficiently. He finished almost everything in one morning, planned the whole yard, and placed small labels on the ground, making it neat and tidy.

After finishing all this, he was free. There were two flower pots by the door. He cleaned some of them and planted onions in them.

When An Xiaoping woke up, the planting was basically done.

An Xiaoping, who slept all morning, looked at him with his mouth agape and said, “Brother, do you really do all this in one morning?”

He had only just woken up. How could Jiang Tingzhou have done so much?

“Just a simple touch. I’ll lay down some stepping stones next. That way when it rains, we won’t step in mud,” Jiang Tingzhou said casually. “Planning it out ahead makes things easier later. I’ll just get a few flagstones—it’s simple.”

He could do it himself, and it wouldn’t cost much.

An Xiaoping listened, mouth still open.

Now he realized that Jiang Tingzhou’s claim of not resting was true. He wasn’t casually planting vegetables—he was basically building a miniature estate.

An Xiaoping had officially been outdone by Jiang Tingzhou’s “retired life.”

He remembered all those times he confidently declared he would earn money to support his brother, but now there he was, sleeping like a pig while Jiang Tingzhou had already done a full morning’s work.

So he immediately pulled out his camera to film a video.

Making money to support the family was urgent!

He spent some time finding the right angle and noticed that the light in Jiang Tingzhou’s living room was better, so he set up the camera, placed the cosmetics he brought on the table, pressed record, and began filming.

Jiang Tingzhou walked over to see and asked, “What are you filming?”

“My makeup video,” An Xiaoping said, clipping his hair back. “Guys can wear makeup too. My fans like to watch it. I can’t take the kind of beauty photos I used to anymore. If I spend too long, people won’t watch.”

At that time, influencer monetization wasn’t as easy. Most of his income came from sponsored ads. He used to do photo shoots for bars or trendy shops, post online content, or sing a few songs on stage. Each gig brought in some pay. Occasionally, he landed print modeling jobs.

An Xiaoping then had 70,000 to 80,000 followers and earned about 1,000 yuan a month. That used to be enough for him, but now, with his goal of supporting Jiang Tingzhou, it definitely wasn’t.

He aimed to make at least 10,000 to 20,000 yuan a month.

“Filming videos is hot right now. I have friends who livestream and make good money, but I still have school, so I don’t have time,” An Xiaoping explained as he patted toner onto his face. “I think videos are better than just pictures. If I land an ad, I can make more.”

He might have been a small influencer, but he had good instincts—he was heading in the right direction. Jiang Tingzhou supported him but wasn’t experienced in online marketing, so he said, “You go ahead and film. I’ll cook in the kitchen.”

“Just cook your own portion today,” An Xiaoping said. “I’m not eating. I ate too much yesterday, and if I gain weight, I won’t look good.”

Maintaining his figure was important, but skipping both breakfast and lunch wasn’t healthy. The doctor said An Xiaoping was malnourished.

After washing up and changing, he asked before entering the kitchen, “Are you really not going to eat?”

“No,” An Xiaoping said firmly. “I let myself go yesterday. I won’t take a single bite today.”

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t press further. He checked the camera angle. “Looks like it’ll catch the kitchen. That okay? Won’t that bother you?”

“It’s fine. This isn’t a livestream—it’s just footage. I’ll add voiceover and edit later,” An Xiaoping said. “You do your thing. It won’t bother me.”

Jiang Tingzhou entered the kitchen. After a while, the smell of cooking filled the air—he was frying fish-flavored shredded pork.

The camera occasionally caught glimpses of Jiang Tingzhou busy in the kitchen. Soon, hot dishes with a distinct aroma were served. Jiang Tingzhou didn’t ask if An Xiaoping wanted to eat, but he noticed the younger man’s expression was different from before.

He was swallowing hard.

Then Jiang Tingzhou brought out the main course: sliced beef porridge.

An Xiaoping kept insisting he was too full, but the moment the porridge was ready, he couldn’t resist.

Jiang Tingzhou cooked the white rice porridge in a casserole before An Xiaoping woke up. The beef was sliced thinly and added last, so the meal was served quickly and could be eaten after boiling a bit.

The beef was home-cooked, with plenty of ingredients, and the slices were just right. The tender beef was wrapped in soft rice grains, needing little seasoning.

Jiang Tingzhou prepared a dish of shredded green onion, ginger, soy sauce, and some shredded lemon leaves, which smelled incredibly appetizing.

“Don’t worry, beef won’t make you fat. I know you want to keep in shape, so I made it especially for you. Otherwise, it’s not healthy,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “I’ll have porridge with stir-fried vegetables, and you can just eat the beef and boiled vegetables. If you skip lunch, you’ll be hungrier at night. I’ll make a vegetable salad for you then. You need protein now.”

The camera captured An Xiaoping’s conflicted face.

He had refused many times, but the meat looked too delicious.

“You make a good point,” An Xiaoping said with dignity, even as he quietly put down the lip balm and picked up his chopsticks. “Then I’ll just have a little beef.”

It was just beef—no oil. Shouldn’t have had many calories.

Since he didn’t want to lose his camera angle, he sat right at the table in front of the lens and ate on camera. He told himself he would edit it later.

Just a few bites—quick and easy.