The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 30

Jiang Tingzhou immediately explained to everyone that the video wasn’t taken by him but by An Xiaoping. He even recommended the tofu pudding shop owner to follow his account.

“Oh, I don’t really understand all that,” the boss smiled. “Anyway, you two are friends, right? Xiao Jiang, you’re not from around here, are you? Business in the old town renovation area hasn’t been great lately. Morning Market Street isn’t as lively anymore, not like the flaky pastry shop over there. We heard this place might be demolished in a few months. But recently, there have been more people visiting the garden, and many of them start thinking about Morning Market Street and the sugar factory.”

The tofu shop owner smiled with his eyes narrowed and said, “Now, thanks to you, my shop can keep running. I hope more people will come in the future.”

He looked genuinely happy.

Jiang Tingzhou replied, “There’ll be more people.”

Right now, the sugar factory garden was beautiful and drawing in crowds. As more people came, they took photos, spreading its popularity. When the tofu shop owner mentioned the pastry shop, it reminded Jiang Tingzhou—it had been a long time since he ate pastries from there.

He decided to have some for breakfast that day.

He walked over.

The pastry shop was even busier than before, with a line forming outside. Jiang Tingzhou was about to queue up when someone at the front called his name.

“Tingzhou?”

He recognized the voice immediately and turned.

It was Li Shuyan.

They hadn’t spoken much the last time they met.

That day, she appeared alone, dressed in a clean, crisp business outfit. She looked at Jiang Tingzhou but seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

After a pause, she said, “You’re here for pastries too?”

Jiang Tingzhou hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The line had just reached Li Shuyan’s turn, and she immediately told the shopkeeper, “Two mung bean paste, two brown sugar sesame, two scallion oil, and two preserved veggie with pork. And two cups of brown sugar ginger jujube tea.”

Even after studying abroad, Li Shuyan still loved the flavors she grew up with. Unfortunately, her favorite brown sugar filling wasn’t available anymore, so she had to settle for the sesame version.

When the pastries came out of the oven, she handed one to Jiang Tingzhou. “Where are you going?”

Jiang Tingzhou actually didn’t want to spend time with her. He didn’t want anything to do with Li Shuyan.

It wasn’t her fault—what happened back then, they were both victims. They were minors, each with family issues, and neither of them was capable of handling the situation.

Now, so many years later, even if they wanted to talk things out, the cracks had long formed. She wrote to explain things. But with all that happened, the two who once shared a happy friendship now stood in different worlds, never able to return to what they once were.

Things changed. Back then, she and Jang Li had nothing but contempt for each other, but then they studied abroad together, and now they were seriously dating—and even planning to get married soon.

But Jiang Tingzhou already left that world behind.

He wanted to live an ordinary life. Li Shuyan could remain the eldest daughter of the Li family, happy and well-off. They weren’t from the same world anymore. She would have new friends, and there was no need for her to concern herself with someone as unlucky as him.

“I’m heading to the sugar factory,” Jiang Tingzhou said casually.

“Oh, I’m going there too. What a coincidence,” Li Shuyan said. “Let’s go together.”

Jiang Tingzhou: “…”

It wasn’t like the road belonged to him—he couldn’t exactly tell her to leave. So the two of them walked together in silence.

It was Li Shuyan who finally broke it.

“After so many years, these pastries still taste the same,” she said, eating two. “Xiaoping always ate them hot, right out of the oven. I never got a chance back then, but now I finally can. Still, the brown sugar jujube tea… it’s not as good as yours.”

Jiang Tingzhou was always good at making soup back then, and he used to bring it to school for her. Li Shuyan had trouble with school food—when her anxiety acted up, she threw up after just a few bites. She was thin and frail. Jiang Tingzhou used to bring her soup—pigeon broth in winter, snow pear with rock sugar in summer. He poured half into her thermos and gave the other half to An Xiaoping.

An Xiaoping repaid him by sharing what he thought was best—Yongqing specialty pastries from the old market.

The best ones were from that pastry shop on Morning Market Street. The owner was a neighbor of An Xiaoping. After buying them, he rode over an hour on his bike to deliver them. They were tightly wrapped and still warm when he passed them through the school’s side gate. They squatted in a corner and ate them like little thieves.

The palm-sized pastries were eaten with soup. Back in high school, a whole box was easy to finish.

But that day, Jiang Tingzhou only took four. He ate half—and couldn’t finish the rest.

“My uncle told me you quit your job and moved,” Li Shuyan said. “Tingzhou, I didn’t expect you to really become a chef.” She walked a few steps and added, “I don’t mean to look down on chefs. It’s just… it’s hard work. It’s not easy for someone like you; after finally coming home, to come back and live like this.”

In most people’s eyes, being a chef was laborious and low-status. Even master-level chefs like Chef Wang didn’t want their kids to follow the same path—they tried their best to push them toward more refined and ‘elite’ careers.

“I’ve always been afraid to face you,” she continued. “I’ve wondered if I ruined your life. I feel sorry.”

Jiang Tingzhou stayed silent. But hearing that, he quickly replied, “No.”

He chose to be a chef—no one forced him.

Li Shuyan added, “My family did you wrong too. It was because of me.”

After Lu Baiyu came back, he investigated thoroughly. Apart from confirming the voice was synthesized, they found no other leads. The surveillance video was broken. They couldn’t find who changed the PPT. All the staff denied everything. Some resigned, others were replaced. The real culprit was never found.

Jiang Tingzhou suspected Jiang You—but he couldn’t prove it. Maybe it was the girls who bullied Li Shuyan—those infatuated with Jang Li—or maybe just people jealous of others doing well… Who could tell?

After Lu Baiyu returned to the country, the Li family didn’t dare touch Jiang Tingzhou. But times changed. Lu Baiyu couldn’t always be around.

Later, when Li Xu came back to Yongqing, he didn’t forget the incident. He deliberately hosted a banquet at Gongyan and specifically came looking for trouble when Jiang Tingzhou had just started working there.

The moment Jiang Tingzhou entered, a glass of liquor was thrown in his face. The alcohol got into his eyes—it stung for days, and the corners of his eyes were bloodshot.

But he learned patience, learned how to smooth things over. He polished his sharp edges and controlled his temper. He didn’t argue. No matter what Li Xu said, Jiang Tingzhou stayed polite—never admitted guilt, never got angry. Neither servile nor arrogant.

Li Xu’s impression of him changed quite a bit after that.

As he got to know him better, he began to find the story with Li Shuyan suspicious. Jiang Tingzhou didn’t seem like the kind of person the rumors described. After a few more visits, Li Xu became one of his regular customers.

At the beginning of that year, when news spread about the VP contest between Jiang Tingzhou and Jiang You, Li Xu came to show his support. He ordered the most expensive liquor—worth six figures—and just days earlier, he was even willing to shell out extra money to buy antiques for him.

“I already received enough compensation,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “President Li has always treated me well as a regular customer.”

That retirement fund he had then came from Li Xu. And looking back, the extra 8,000+ in restaurant revenue he earned during the VP contest also came with Li Xu’s support. He had nothing more to ask for.

“That’s what you deserve,” Li Shuyan said, shaking her head. “Tingzhou, this isn’t compensation. I—”

“No.” Jiang Tingzhou cut her off. “Really, you don’t need to pity me, I’m living well.”

Li Shuyan said, “I want to help you—as a friend, can’t I do that?”

“I don’t need it.”

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t want the conversation to continue. He changed the subject. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t think Li Shuyan came specifically for him.

“I came to check on the sugar factory,” she said. “Actually, I wanted to take over this renovation project.”

At that, Jiang Tingzhou looked up at the area in front of them.

The sugar factory, originally called Yongqing State-Owned Sugar Factory, had a very old sign above its gate. It once covered a massive area, over ten thousand square meters.

This land had a story.

This place used to be one of the most important sugarcane processing centers in the country—built in the 1970s. It had not only workshops, but also gardens, dorms, a school, a supermarket, and even a hospital. It was a fully self-contained community.

Morning Market Street was originally the residential area for factory employees. Even the Guanyin Mountain area, where An Xiaoping lived, was home to many former sugar factory workers.

Years ago, sugarcane from all over was sent there to produce sugar, cookies, and candy. The sweetness spread across Dongjiang Province and beyond.

After market reforms, the state-owned factory declined. Several rounds of restructuring and privatization followed. Only a small part of the facility remained operational. The abandoned sections were bundled together with the active plant as part of the government’s redevelopment tender.

The old factory buildings had unique designs. Unlike typical industrial sites, they were built in a consistent style with dedicated architects—distinctively Soviet in design.

These buildings witnessed the factory’s past glory. The red bricks and flame trees once witnessed the sugar factory’s glory. Now, many buildings were too old to restore, but they still held deep memories for the people of Yongqing. It could be said that this part of the old city, once a renowned hub of the food industry, was built on the foundation of that towering sugar factory—now completely fallen into disrepair.

“The plan is to turn this into a theme park or an exhibition center, with some commercial lots inside,” Li Shuyan said. “But Jang Li wasn’t impressed when we visited. A lot of investors came to look. These old buildings couldn’t be demolished, and restoring them to their original appearance was expensive. The foot traffic and spending power in the area were also too low. Even if it was built, returns would be minimal.”

Every investor could see this—it was practically a semi-public welfare project. There were plenty of profitable redevelopment opportunities in the old city; this wasn’t one of them.

The only reason the Li family even considered it was because the word ‘sugar’ symbolized sweetness. It was intended as a practice project for Jang Li and a joint investment as a symbolic wedding gift.

But Jang Li wasn’t a sentimental person. From a business perspective, he preferred another plot near Yongqing No. 2 Middle School—ideal for commercial housing in a good school district.

So that day, they went to inspect the site and happened to run into a disgruntled Lu Jiahe and a drifting Xu Feng.

“Xu Feng isn’t my friend,” Li Shuyan clarified. “He just insisted on tagging along.”

Jiang Tingzhou said, “But your view is different from Jang Li’s, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I originally planned to give up on it. But I didn’t expect this area to become popular in just a few days.”

She already thought the place was beautiful when she first visited.

As a local of Yongqing, Li Shuyan had feelings for the sugar factory. Letting it decay would be a shame.

Now she had the capacity to take on billion-level projects—but she couldn’t stop thinking about Jiang Tingzhou.

If he was living well, fine. She wouldn’t interfere. But now he lived in such a remote area. Her uncle even said he was planning to retire on just a few million.

How was that possible?!

That little money—how long could it last? How could Jiang Tingzhou live like this?

She refused to leave. She even followed him all the way home.

Along the way, she saw nothing but low, dilapidated houses.

The more she saw, the more distressed she became.

She felt she owed him. Now that she had the ability, she had to repay him—like he once helped her. She couldn’t just walk away. Not when Jiang Tingzhou was in need.

“I’m fine, I’m really fine—why won’t you believe me?” Jiang Tingzhou said. “This place is great. Even the Xu family went down. There are cameras everywhere, even near my house. No one in their right mind would come bother me now—it’s really a great place…”

They were walking through the alley when he heard a noise at the door. It sounded like someone crying.

Li Shuyan asked, “Who’s crying?”

It didn’t sound like anyone from the Jiang family—it was a woman’s voice.

Jiang Tingzhou took a few more steps and saw a middle-aged woman squatting at the door. She wore a gray coat, had a bag beside her, and her hair was a mess. She looked haggard.

She had probably been waiting there a while, sobbing now and then.

Jiang Tingzhou was surprised. “Sister Zhou? What are you doing here?”

She looked up when she heard him. At the sight of him, her tears immediately fell.

“Boss Jiang, thank God I finally found you. Please save me!” she cried. She tried to stand but had no strength and collapsed, kneeling. “Why did you leave so suddenly? I delivered everything on time, but the restaurant won’t take the goods. My family’s waiting on that money—what happened?!”

Jiang Tingzhou: “…”

He looked at her, then turned to Li Shuyan.

Li Shuyan: “This is what you meant by ‘everything’s fine’?”