The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 32

Li Shuyan wanted to say more, but Jiang Tingzhou cut her off.

“I’ll buy a ham and transfer the money to you. I actually planned to eat ham with some friends last time. Once you receive the payment, pay the storage warehouse’s transportation fee first,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not anyone’s savior. I’m just a regular person who’s retired now. I hate getting dragged into trouble. Pull yourself together and sell the watch first.”

A Rolex was practically hard currency—it wasn’t hard to sell.

Zhou Lifen nodded, wiped her tears, and left.

Li Shuyan said, “Why won’t you let me help you? This is clearly Lu Jiahe targeting you. I know the Li family isn’t as rich as the Lus, but I can afford this.”

“It’s pointless for you to buy these hams,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “There’s no need. Don’t get involved. Just focus on your own things.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t know people who could afford to buy them. Not just Li Shuyan. Several long-time diners of Gongyan—wealthy patrons who could tell the difference in ham quality—also came to mind. But none of them would go out of their way to make such a purchase just to help him.

Wealthy people rarely ate at home. Asking them out of nowhere to buy a ham worth several thousand yuan would only come off as rude. Jiang Tingzhou didn’t want to owe anyone favors.

“I still want to,” Li Shuyan insisted.

Jiang Tingzhou went on, “This isn’t just about Zhou Lifen. It’s Lu Jiahe deliberately targeting me. Jiang You might be involved too. Buying up this batch of ham won’t solve anything. So, the real person I need to deal with isn’t Sister Zhou. It’s Lu Jiahe.”

“That just makes me more worried,” Li Shuyan said.

The two of them reached an impasse.

At that moment, Jiang Tingzhou turned and looked toward his yard.

“What are you looking at? There’s nothing there,” said Li Shuyan, seated in the living room. “In any case, I won’t be at ease until this is resolved.”

Jiang Tingzhou had been worrying about his unsprouted seeds all morning. With Master Zhu unreachable, his biggest concern remained unresolved.

Now that Li Shuyan pointed out the barrenness of the yard, he looked up, speechless.

“Just watch some TV or scroll on your phone,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “Can you please stop talking?”

“Can’t you speak more gently?” Li Shuyan asked. “Just let me help. Pretend I’ve got too much money to burn, okay?”

Jiang Tingzhou replied, “You’ll only make things more complicated if you step in.”

“Friends aren’t complications,” she said.

Jiang Tingzhou couldn’t be bothered to argue, so he acted like he didn’t hear her.

As they were locked in their standoff, someone from the storage warehouse delivered the ham he had ordered.

The company handled end-to-end logistics for premium bulk foods—from transport to storage to doorstep delivery. It was a sub-brand under the Lu Group, and every link in the process was top-tier. The couriers, in uniform, were polite and even helped carry the ham into the kitchen.

Of course, the service didn’t come cheap.

The courier handed him a printed booklet, custom-issued with the product. It included storage instructions and simple recipes using the ham. Smiling, the courier politely asked if he could leave a five-star review.

The logo on his uniform was a leaping fish, and the brand name was Zhouyu Express—it might have been hard to believe, but Jiang Tingzhou had picked that fish as the logo.

It was a project Lu Baiyu had worked on for two years. Jiang Tingzhou remembered the pitch being laid out on the coffee table at Brilliant Star. Lu Baiyu had asked him to choose between two logo options. Jiang Tingzhou casually pointed to the fish.

He thought it looked lively and fresh—perfect for the brand.

“Okay, I’ll listen to you,” Lu Baiyu had said. “We’ll go with that.”

In the end, that fish was printed on a multi-million yuan investment by the Lu family. The “Zhou” in the name was even a pun that Lu Baiyu had chosen himself.

Now, the sub-brand held over 80% market share in its niche, a proud highlight on Mr. Lu’s résumé.

Jiang Tingzhou could have lived a much easier life, surrounded by privilege—like Li Shuyan sitting comfortably in his home now. All he had to do was take a single step back, and he could have shared in that success.

Because Lu Baiyu could have easily fixed everything.

The last time Lu Baiyu came to the yard, he just thought Jiang Tingzhou needed a break and suggested he buy a good property. The very next day, one of Lu Baiyu’s secretaries showed up at the door with a shortlist of locations—only to be driven away by Jiang Tingzhou.

Never mind the expensive land. The sapphire ring Lu Baiyu once gave him was still lying around. Jiang Tingzhou had tried to return it through that same secretary, but the man refused to accept it, saying he’d lose his job if he brought it back.

Jiang Tingzhou had never dealt with someone so committed to job survival. So the ring stayed.

It was a genuine antique—worth more than the five-million-yuan bowl he sold. Tian Hui looked up auction results. The ring’s market value was 12 million, more than enough to solve this problem.

Lu Baiyu never asked about the things he gave away. Even if Jiang Tingzhou sold it, he’d probably just say, “Didn’t like it? I’ll buy you something better.”

But the two of them had already broken up.

Even then, Jiang Tingzhou felt no regret. He didn’t want a life built on someone else’s power.

Li Shuyan came out from the yard, looked into the kitchen, and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Cooking lunch,” Jiang Tingzhou replied.

How can he still be in the mood to cook?

Li Shuyan admired his composure. Most people wouldn’t even be able to eat under so much stress.

But Jiang Tingzhou’s daily life was never thrown off by anything. It was lunchtime, and the ham needed to be prepped. That meant it was time to start cooking.

Spring bamboo shoots were in their final season, perfect with ham. If not now, then when?

Jiang Tingzhou knew very well that many seemingly brilliant exit strategies seemed like choices, but in reality, they were just choosing between two limited options—less meaningful than a bowl of ham he could eat with his own hands.

Lu Jiahe thought he’d be threatened by this? Panicking because he was under pressure? That was just being out of touch.

“If you have time, stay for dinner,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “There are a lot of dishes today.”

The best hams had a pipa shape and were coated with penicillium on the surface. Once cleaned, the meat inside was delicate, and the fat gleamed like amber. Sliced open, they released a rich, fragrant aroma. The finest cuts were rose-colored.

The fresh spring pot dish he created earlier was actually simple—even rough—so it could be easily replicated across restaurant chains while keeping the flavor consistent. But to enjoy ham properly took finesse.

Each part of the ham—the lower end, the middle, the crown, the “coin,” and the “fire claw”—was suited to a different method: steaming, stir-frying, or soup. It was a real test of a chef’s skill.

Li Shuyan didn’t understand what he was thinking, but she somehow stayed longer than planned.

Soon, the smell of food drifted out from the kitchen.

She turned her head and saw a casserole bubbling gently over a low flame. Neatly prepped ingredients were lined up beside it.

Even the oven was in use. She hadn’t been hungry before, sitting in the living room working. But now, hunger crept up on her.

Then she heard a ding—the oven. Jiang Tingzhou, wearing gloves, opened it and took out a batch of freshly baked crispy ham pancakes.

He placed two on a plate and handed them to her.

“Eat. You’ll talk less once your mouth is full.”

The dough had been prepped by Sister Zhou when she visited. It was originally for something else, but now it was used for this. He adjusted the filling so it was less greasy, and he brewed a pot of chrysanthemum tea to go with it.

Li Shuyan wasn’t hungry when she arrived. But the pancake was so hot she nearly burned herself on the first bite. Still, she refused to spit it out and held it in her mouth until it cooled before swallowing.

It’s delicious.

She followed Jiang Tingzhou into the kitchen while eating.

The lower part of the ham was thinly sliced and stir-fried with mushrooms. Another pot simmered with rice and diced ham from the crown portion.

Jiang Tingzhou even fired up a wood-burning stove to cook the rice—so there would be a crispy bottom layer.

Soup, main dish, side dish, staple food, and snack—all were accounted for. Because ham had such a strong flavor, he also made a simple cold cucumber salad for balance.

His kitchen window faced a wall. When he lifted a pot lid, a head suddenly popped up from the other side—it was his neighbor, who finally gave in to curiosity and even climbed a ladder to peek over.

“Xiao Jiang,” the auntie called. “What are you cooking now?”

She ran a small Yongqing pastry shop at the morning market. They had gotten to know each other over the past few days.

Few strangers ever moved into the old house at the foot of Guanyin Mountain, so the neighbors all knew there was a not-so-simple young man living there—visitors came and went, and most importantly—the cooking smelled incredible every day.

“Aunt Deng,” Jiang Tingzhou said, “I made too much food today. Want to take some home?”

Aunt Deng’s eyes lit up, though she still acted reserved. “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

But even as she said it, she hurried back to fetch a soup bowl from home.

Jiang Tingzhou filled it, giving her a portion of every dish.

One ham was too large, so he cooked it in big batches. A short while later, Aunt Deng returned the favor by handing him a bag of fresh honeydew melons from the other side of the wall.

“The family next door makes pastries,” Jiang Tingzhou explained to Li Shuyan. “They’re nice. They came over to introduce themselves a few days ago.”

“What a coincidence,” Li Shuyan said.

Jiang Tingzhou nodded, and just then, someone else walked in.

“Brother Jiang!” Tian Hui called out cheerfully the moment she entered. “What delicious food did you make this time? I could smell it from down the road. And you even remembered to call me—amazing!”

Tian Hui had been working overtime recently and finally had a day off today. She planned to spend it resting, but once Jiang Tingzhou invited her over, she rushed right in. No way was she missing this meal.

As she walked in and saw Li Shuyan, she glanced at her, then asked, “Brother Jiang, is this your friend?”

“Yes,” Jiang Tingzhou said.

Li Shuyan smiled at that, and Tian Hui complimented her, calling her “so beautiful.”

Jiang Tingzhou handed her a ham pancake and suggested they eat outside while he kept cooking.

Tian Hui took a bite—the crispy skin burst with meaty aroma—and as she ate, she scooted closer to Li Shuyan.

She didn’t believe for a second that Jiang Tingzhou bought such a big ham just for himself. Something was definitely going on.

Li Shuyan gave her a brief explanation, but before Tian Hui could cut in, Li Shuyan said:

“He’s just stubborn. He was like this in high school too. Honestly, he still can’t just stand by and do nothing, can he?”

He could ignore the whole Zhou Lifen situation—no one in the Jiang or Lu family could force him to act.

Even Lu Jiahe, who always argued with Jiang Tingzhou, subconsciously believed Jiang Tingzhou would step in.

“Exactly,” Tian Hui agreed. “That’s just the kind of person he is.”

But a single watch could only fix so much. Jiang Tingzhou couldn’t take care of the Zhou family forever.

The two women chatted while Jiang Tingzhou cooked in the kitchen.

Soon, a steaming ham feast was laid out on the table.

“Where’s Xiaoping?” Li Shuyan asked.

“He’s at college and couldn’t make it,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “Once I’m done cooking, I’ll send some food over.”

Even after sharing with neighbors, there was still too much food.

Jiang Tingzhou packed several pots, skipping only cold dishes like cucumber salad. He arranged for a courier to deliver the food to An Xiaoping’s dorm at Dongjiang University. It would arrive in about an hour and a half—still hot.

A little later, Zhou Lifen returned after selling the watch. With the 100,000 yuan in hand, she could finally pay her child’s medical bills and breathe easier.

As long as her child could be saved, she could endure anything else.

She originally wanted to tell Jiang Tingzhou that she wouldn’t drag him down, that she’d find another buyer for the ham, that she wouldn’t take the money for nothing and would pay him back someday.

But when she walked in and saw the food on the table, Jiang Tingzhou simply gestured for her to sit down.

“Eat first,” he said. “You haven’t eaten properly these past two days, have you? Eat first—no one needs to be polite here.”

To him, eating on time came before everything else.

The four of them sat down together. None of them expected to share a meal like that, but the food smelled too good to resist.

As they ate, their worries seemed to melt away.

Tian Hui had been curious about the Xianchun Pot dish Jiang Tingzhou mentioned before. Now that she was finally tasting it, it was even better than she had imagined.

The ham was simmered into a creamy white broth. The spring bamboo shoots and tofu skin soaked up all the flavor. The ham stew over rice was topped with a crispy crust and soft, tender peas. Every grain of rice was soaked in the melted fat, yet light and distinct. The stir-fried mushrooms with ham were equally mouthwatering.

Chrysanthemum tea cleared the heat, cold cucumbers cut the richness, and the neighbor’s honeydew was crisp, fresh, and sweet. It was the kind of meal that left you licking your lips—washing away the fatigue of the entire day.

Zhou Lifen was in awe. She was familiar with the techniques, but Jiang Tingzhou’s execution was on another level. The timing, the balance of flavors—he elevated the salty-sweet richness of the ham and the depth of fermented fat to perfection.

“So this is what it’s supposed to taste like,” she murmured.

Tian Hui was stunned. “Wait—you’ve never had this before? But it’s your ham!”

She could tell that Zhou Lifen seemed even more impressed than she was.

“I couldn’t afford to eat this,” Zhou Lifen said. “It’s too expensive. There are cheap hams around us—not as good, but enough. If I eat this, I’d lose a piece I could sell. That’s not worth it.”

She took another bite. That ham was no longer whole—it couldn’t be sold. Just one like that was worth thousands. Only now, tasting the expensive ham she made herself, did she truly understand why it cost so much.

The meal was so delicious that even Aunt Deng came knocking again, asking how it had been made.

Everyone had eaten ham before—it wasn’t rare—but they had never tasted anything like this. The texture of the leftover piece in Jiang Tingzhou’s kitchen spoke for itself.

Aunt Deng knew quality when she saw it. She bought one piece from Zhou Lifen on the spot without even bargaining. It was just one ham, but to Zhou Lifen, it felt like hope.

She thanked them and glanced around Jiang Tingzhou’s yard.

She hadn’t paid attention before, but now that she looked more closely, something felt off.

“Boss Jiang,” she said, “you’ve never grown vegetables before, right? That tomato plant is blooming too early. You should pinch off those flowers.” She pointed to the tomato seedling Jiang Tingzhou was proud of.

“What?” Jiang Tingzhou asked, stepping outside.

“See? The plant is still too short and already blooming. That means it’s growing too fast—probably too much fertilizer. If it flowers too early, it won’t bear good fruit, just small, deformed ones. Same goes for the ones beside it. If you see them blooming too early, pinch the flowers off,” she added, gesturing. “Tomato plants need to grow to at least this height. Too many flowers and fruits will lower the quality. You have to trim them for a better harvest.”

Jiang Tingzhou thought flowering was a good sign—this was all new to him. He pointed to another patch of land where he had planted cream cabbage and chicken feather greens, which hadn’t sprouted well.

“What about these?” he asked.

“Let me take a look.” Zhou Lifen crouched down, touched the soil, and said, “Spring is usually a good time for sowing, but this year’s weather hasn’t been right. With direct sowing like this, it’ll be hard for them to germinate. It’s not the right time yet. I’ll teach you a simple method—raise the seedlings first, and they’ll sprout much more easily.”

Seed germination depended on the right temperature and moisture. For leafy vegetables, the soil temperature needed to be at least 15°C, and the soil had to stay loose and moist.

Zhou Lifen explained how to soak the seeds overnight before planting. This made germination easier and helped the seedlings grow stronger. With proper fertilizing and watering, they thrived.

As she explained, she demonstrated by hand.

She had grown up farming and had a lot of experience. When it came to what she knew, she was not the desperate woman from yesterday anymore—she was calm, capable, and methodical.