The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 31

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t want others to worry about him, so he always shared good news and hid the bad.

When he heard what the woman said, he immediately knew it was something orchestrated by the Jiang family. He didn’t want this older woman crying at his doorstep—if she kept it up, the neighbors would gather.

“Alright, come inside first,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “Let’s talk it through.”

Just as he finished speaking, Li Shuyan walked in. She stood still and said, “Big sister, tell me what’s going on. I’m his friend, I have money—I’ll help.”

Jiang Tingzhou was helpless. “You’re just making trouble.”

The matter wasn’t complicated. The woman’s name was Zhou Lifen, one of Jiang Tingzhou’s suppliers.

After a few words, Jiang Tingzhou already understood the situation.

The supplier of ham for the Xianchun Pot dish he mentioned before—was her. They had worked together for years. She originally cured ham for her own family in the village. Jiang Tingzhou discovered it while out collecting folk traditional dishes. The traditional village method produced far better flavor than anything on the market. It was incredible. The climate and geography were uniquely suited to it, and she had the best technique in the village. So, Jiang Tingzhou asked her to supply ham for Gongyan.

“Boss Jiang, I’ve always been grateful to you. Our cooperation has always gone well. But yesterday, they suddenly stopped accepting my goods,” Zhou Lifen cried. “They said my asking price was too high, not worth the money.”

The originally agreed price was 180 yuan per jin—a very high price, but Gongyan aimed for top-tier quality. This wasn’t the kind of whole-leg ham sold for a few hundred or a thousand yuan in markets. This was top-tier ham that normally sold for hundreds or even thousands per full ham.

Jiang Tingzhou personally negotiated the deal.

He knew it wasn’t some marketing gimmick. The pigs used were specially raised free-range plateau black pigs in the highlands. Only the hind legs were used, and the entire process—from feeding to curing—was held to the highest standards. All ingredients for curing were carefully selected, and every step strictly regulated.

In terms of quality, it was among the best ham on the market. Curing ham was time-consuming and required fermentation. The hams used for cooking were aged for two years and three months to reach peak flavor.

Zhou Lifen only started supplying last year. Since then, the Xianchun Pot had become a hit across all Gongyan chain stores.

Ordinary ham sold for about 50 yuan per jin. Compared to that, Jiang Tingzhou felt that even at more than triple the price, hers was worth it. If Gongyan demanded the best, the cost reflected the quality.

Even internationally, a 50g slice of premium 5J Iberico Black Label cost as much. Her product was cost-effective by comparison.

That was how Jiang Tingzhou saw it—but not everyone did.

Zhou Lifen became increasingly agitated. “They slashed it to 80 yuan per jin and still said it was too expensive. Said mine tastes totally different from what’s on the market. If I dare, they told me, go sue. Boss Jiang, please judge for yourself. I can’t even recover my costs at 80 yuan. If they won’t take it, who can I sell to? My child is in the hospital. I need money. What am I supposed to do?”

When she went there this time, she found that most of the staff at Gongyan had changed. Jiang Tingzhou was gone, and everyone else was new—completely unreasonable.

Li Shuyan immediately offered, “Sue them. If they violated the contract, the Jiang family has to pay. I have a lawyer—”

Jiang Tingzhou raised his hand to signal her to calm down. “You don’t understand. The contract she signed is a little different.” He sighed. “I told you several times back then to sign a fixed-price contract, but you didn’t listen.”

Normally, supply contracts weren’t easily broken. But Zhou Lifen’s case was special.

Jiang Tingzhou advised her to sign a long-term fixed contract with Gongyan. But with ham prices rising in recent years, Zhou Lifen was likely swayed by villagers, saying a fixed price wouldn’t be worth it if prices kept rising.

So last year, she signed a floating-price contract instead.

That meant she took on more risk.

She always trusted Gongyan’s popularity with the Xianchun Pot, and Jiang Tingzhou’s integrity, so nothing would go wrong. But the Jiang family abruptly changed direction. Based on the cooperation model, Zhou Lifen might not have much legal standing under the terms of their deal.

Gongyan’s contracts were airtight. If she used her ham to supply a competitor or used the same method, she’d be breaching contract, and would face a huge penalty.

Suing Gongyan would be hard. But Gongyan suing her? That would be easy.

Jiang Tingzhou fully understood now. He said, “So, Gongyan sent you to me, didn’t they?”

Zhou Lifen nodded tearfully.

Jiang Tingzhou sighed. She was being used as a pawn.

The Xianchun Pot was easy to make, sold at a high price, and was always in short supply—not just at the flagship store but all chain locations. Gongyan had no trouble paying for ingredients.

Zhou Lifen wasn’t the issue. The Jiang family was being deliberately malicious. It wasn’t enough to come to his door—they wanted to attack him from another angle.

And Zhou Lifen wasn’t a typical rule-abiding supplier. She was poorly educated and from an impoverished family. Her child’s illness had drained her finances. Now, she was nearly penniless.

To her, Jiang Tingzhou was the only lifeline left—she’d cling to it no matter what.

Unlike the aggressive Jiang family, she was just a desperate, pitiful middle-aged woman. Even if Jiang Tingzhou was decisive and cold-hearted, what could he really do to her?

Li Shuyan caught on quickly. She asked, “So, you came straight to Tingzhou?”

“I know it’s my fault. Boss Jiang warned me several times, but I still signed the floating price contract,” Zhou Lifen said. “I didn’t have the nerve to come yesterday. But today… I really have no other choice.”

This happened yesterday. Zhou Lifen tried to save herself, taking samples to find buyers. But they were firm on prices too—offering only 70 or 80 yuan per jin.

Her bottom line was around 145 yuan, and even 150 was already cutting it close. Now the gap was too wide—no buyer was offering anywhere near what she needed. She was desperate.

Ham had a strict market value. Not many knew how to judge quality. Slight differences had to be evaluated by professionals. Someone like her, under pressure to sell fast, was easily taken advantage of.

Luckily, unlike other fresh ingredients, ham didn’t spoil easily. If stored properly, it lasted a long time—and right now, it was at its peak flavor. If stored longer, it would become salty and lose quality.

For such high-end ham, even small changes in taste drastically reduced its value. And it wasn’t easy to transport—she had 200 hams sitting in a warehouse, each day racking up costs.

The good news? It was mid-April—this was the last batch of the year.

She only cured ham seasonally, from the winter solstice to Minor Cold. The best time for pairing with fresh spring bamboo shoots was March to April. This batch was at its flavor peak after aging for over two years.

Deliveries began in March, every half-month. Only two months per year. Each batch of 200 hams was delivered to nine Gongyan stores, with the flagship getting more.

Xianchun Pot was a seasonal limited-time dish. You ate it while it was available. Almost every table ordered it—sometimes demand exceeded supply.

Each ham weighed over 20 kilograms. Li Shuyan quickly calculated that buying all 200 would cost about 700,000 yuan. She made a decision on the spot. “I’ll buy them. I’ll take care of it.”

“What are you taking care of?” Jiang Tingzhou didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

This batch could be dealt with—but the problem wasn’t just 200 hams. With a two-year curing period, she already had other batches aging. Starting two years ago, she increased production—1,000 hams a year. This wasn’t a 200-ham issue; it was a 2,000-ham issue.

Jiang Tingzhou had 700,000 yuan. The people who sent Zhou Lifen here surely expected him to spend it to “buy peace.” But it wasn’t just 700,000—it would become 7 million in the next two years.

“Then I have money too,” Li Shuyan said. “I’m willing to pay.”

Jiang Tingzhou replied, “I don’t want to owe anyone. And your money doesn’t fall from the sky.”

“We’re friends.”

“There’s still debt between friends,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “What are you going to do—eat all that ham yourself and turn into a giant?”

Li Shuyan replied, “None of your business.”

“How is my own business none of my business?”

They hadn’t seen each other in years, and at first, they were polite. But now, they were arguing like they used to in high school—back when friends didn’t bother with formalities.

Just then, Jiang Tingzhou’s phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

Normally, he would’ve ignored it, but given today’s situation, he thought for a moment and answered.

It was Lu Jiahe on the other end, sounding cheerful. “Good morning, Jiang Tingzhou.”

Jiang Tingzhou immediately understood and frowned. “It was you,” he said directly.

Lu Jiahe owned 40% of Jiang Food’s shares—he had full authority to act. Jiang Yisheng wouldn’t stop him, even if it damaged the restaurant’s quality.

No wonder. If it were someone from Gongyan, they wouldn’t have resorted to such self-sabotaging tactics. Gongyan was an established brand. If its signature seasonal dish couldn’t be served, loyal customers would raise hell.

The ham dish was one of the few that could maintain its taste even after Jiang Tingzhou left—because the cooking method couldn’t be revised.

“Yeah, it was me,” Lu Jiahe admitted. “She’s found you by now, hasn’t she?”

“A rural artisan relying on this to support her family, and you’ve pushed her this far?” Jiang Tingzhou said coldly.

“You make it sound like I’ve done something unforgivable,” Lu Jiahe replied. “She chose the contract herself. A floating price contract comes with risks. This wouldn’t have happened if you were still at the company. I didn’t force her. Besides, I don’t care about 700,000 or 800,000 yuan. If she wants money, I could give her an extra 100,000 or 200,000. I could even raise the price to 200 yuan per jin in the future. It’s a small amount.”

Obviously, there were strings attached.

“You’re threatening me,” Jiang Tingzhou said.

“Yes,” Lu Jiahe replied bluntly. “I have authority over Jiang Food’s operations. If you think the vice president title isn’t enough, I can give you a higher one. I know you’ve got money—enough to handle this batch. But what about the future?”

He had done his homework.

Zhou Lifen didn’t just have this one batch. Hams for the next two years were already cured. Without stable buyers, all of it would rot. Jiang Tingzhou couldn’t afford to keep bailing her out.

Helping her this once wouldn’t end the problem—it would become a long-term headache.

Even if Jiang Tingzhou relapsed into old habits and tried to “pay his way out” by giving Zhou Lifen a guarantee, he couldn’t cover everything.

“Jiang Tingzhou,” Lu Jiahe said, “I can promise you—right now in Yongqing, no high-end chain restaurant will dare take this batch off your hands. Even if you try selling it through small private channels, you won’t be able to clear it all.”

Lu Jiahe’s ability might only have seemed average next to Lu Baiyu’s, but he was still the youngest son the Lu family had invested in heavily. He didn’t have limitless resources—but it was easy enough to block one person’s road in the short term.

Then, as if proud of himself, he smiled and added: “Of course, I know you have a powerful backer—my brother. He won’t just sit back and watch. He gets news fast. I bet it won’t be long before Secretary Song calls and tells you it’s all handled. Buying up all her hams for the next two years? That’s only a few million. Even if you added another zero, my brother wouldn’t blink. In fact, I hope you choose that path,” Lu Jiahe said. “Jiang Tingzhou, you need to understand—without the Lu family, you can’t even solve a small problem like this.”

In his eyes, even though Jiang Tingzhou had left, the accounts between them weren’t settled.

There would never be a clean break.

“You join the Lu family. Jiang You stays with the Jiangs. Isn’t that best?” Lu Jiahe said. “We won’t treat you unfairly.”

He sounded pleased with himself, going on and on, waiting for Jiang Tingzhou to cave. After a pause, he suddenly laughed—a mocking sound.

“Lu Jiahe,” Jiang Tingzhou said, “you can’t even handle A Bite of China without me, can you? Admit it. You’re out of options. There’s no need to do all this.”

“Who says I can’t handle it without you?” Lu Jiahe shot back.

“Isn’t it obvious? Besides my connection to Director Cheng, what other options do you have?”

“There’s more than one Director Cheng on A Bite of China!”

Lu Jiahe suddenly remembered that Jiang You had mentioned someone—an assistant director named Sun Hui who reached out online, and they’d added each other to discuss the project.

It was a major project. Who said only Jiang Tingzhou could handle it?

“Sure,” Jiang Tingzhou sneered. “Keep bluffing, Lu Jiahe. You’re just flailing.”

Then he hung up.

“What do you mean I’m bluffing? I had a great chat with Assistant Director Sun!” Lu Jiahe shouted at his phone. “…Hello? Hello?”

Jiang Tingzhou was just too damn polite!

Lu Jiahe started that call in high spirits—now he was fuming. He was about to call again when—

Across from him, Jiang You, who had been quietly listening the whole time, suddenly spilled coffee on himself.

“Xiao You, take it easy,” Lu Jiahe said quickly, grabbing tissues to clean him up. “Did you grab it wrong? Be careful.”

The two were very close, often spending time together. Jiang You had been beside him during the entire call and heard everything. At first, things didn’t sound too bad. But as the conversation continued, something felt more and more wrong.

Especially when Lu Jiahe suggested bringing Jiang Tingzhou into the Lu family—Jiang You’s veins bulged with anger. He gripped his coffee cup so tightly that the lid popped off, splashing onto his white silk shirt.

He had no time to care about the mess. He nearly couldn’t hold his voice steady. While Lu Jiahe was reaching for tissues, Jiang You’s face darkened with momentary ferocity.

“You said you wanted to retaliate against Jiang Tingzhou. So your plan is to bring him into the Lu family?”

“That’s what my mother and brother want,” Lu Jiahe said with a click of his tongue. “He’s clearly talented. And if he joins, no one in the Jiang family will stand in your way. Everything will be yours, Xiao You. Aren’t you happy?”

Jiang You: “…”

He gritted his teeth. It took all his restraint not to curse out loud.

“Don’t you hate him?” he asked.

“This is business,” Lu Jiahe said calmly. “Jiang Tingzhou is useful right now. There’s no need to hate him. Why ask such a childish question?”

Jiang You fell silent.

Who wanted the Jiang family’s measly assets? Compared to the Lu family, they were nothing. Just a few restaurants—they couldn’t even reach the Lu family’s coattails.

He couldn’t understand it. Jiang Tingzhou had left. He had the chance to enter the Lu family, maybe even stay by Lu Baiyu’s side. Yet Qin Rushuang and Lu Jiahe… were happy about it.

He was just a damn cook—how did this happen?

Jiang Tingzhou hung up the phone.

Zhou Lifen looked up at him. She didn’t understand everything that was said, but she could tell she had stirred up trouble.

She opened her mouth to say something—something like Boss Jiang, I don’t want to make things difficult for you. I’ll deal with it myself—but before she could speak, she started crying.

“You’re crying again?” Jiang Tingzhou said bluntly. “What’s the point of crying?”

“Th-then I’ll just leave…” Zhou Lifen stammered.

“Your son’s hospital bill—didn’t you have to pay 100,000 yuan this month?” Jiang Tingzhou turned, pulled something out, and handed it to her. “Here. A Rolex. Sell it—it should be worth about 100,000.”

It was the compensation left behind by Vice President Chen and his people when they kicked in the door. Fixing the door only cost a few hundred yuan. The watch was still lying around.

A single bowl of Xianchun Pot at Gongyan cost 680 yuan—and it used her ham. The profit margin was massive.

Zhou Lifen’s hands were rough with calluses. It was already spring, but she still had traces of frostbite. She wasn’t clever, but she was hardworking. Her ham had never had issues. Customers always praised the flavor. She wore coarse homespun cloth to care for her sick child—yet a watch like that belonged to someone like Vice President Chen.

She looked up at Jiang Tingzhou, unsure what to say.

He didn’t offer comforting words, but she cried again at the sound of his voice.

He remembered not only that her child was receiving treatment—but also exactly how much she needed to pay the hospital this month.