The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 72

When Jiang Moli heard this, her face turned pale.

She couldn’t deny that the Jiang family was in dire straits—especially after Jiang You had been taken away.

If it were only the Lu family holding them accountable, there might still be some wiggle room. But both the Li and Jang families were relentlessly pressing charges. Even though the high school incident happened long ago and couldn’t be legally pursued, Li Shuyan now had the transfer record of Jang’s hush money in hand. It was clear-cut blackmail involving a large sum—undeniable evidence.

In the past, if Qin Rushuang had chosen to remember their old ties and stepped in, the matter might have been softened. But now, that was out of the question.

The order for the Lu family to withdraw investment from Jiang Foods had been issued by none other than Qin Rushuang herself. She and Lu Jiahe—who had always been kind to Jiang You—were both firm in their stance this time.

“I… I really didn’t know Jiang You had done such despicable things. I don’t know how he ended up like this,” Jiang Moli couldn’t help but explain. “I only wanted the family to be more harmonious. I just thought…”

Lu Baiyu didn’t want to hear any more and interrupted her: “This kind of ‘harmony’—does it come at the cost of Tingzhou?”

Jiang Moli fell silent.

On the surface, she had treated Jiang Tingzhou fairly. In many important matters, she seemed to balance things evenly, but in truth, her “fairness” always leaned toward Jiang You. She wanted both children but never confronted the conflict between them. She pursued a so-called harmonious family without ever facing reality, and the result was that neither side was satisfied.

Now, regret was setting in—but it was too late.

The Jiang family had never shown such urgency until something went wrong. Their “sincerity” only emerged after the damage was done. They never felt the pain—until the knife was in deep. Anyone could see what was really going on.

Lu Baiyu had never interfered in the mother-son relationship before. In the past—or in a previous life—Jiang Tingzhou and Jiang Moli had shared a relatively good relationship for a long time. 

But now, things have changed.

At this point, Jiang Tingzhou would no longer involve himself in the Jiang family’s affairs.

“Aunt Jiang, if you still have any real sincerity toward him, don’t come here saying these things,” Lu Baiyu said. “Tingzhou doesn’t want to hear them.”

Lu Baiyu knew he had no real right to interfere too much. But at the very least, Jiang Moli shouldn’t have brought Jiang Yisheng along, like she did today.

Jiang Moli understood what Lu Baiyu was implying. She was desperate now. She’d seen Jiang Tingzhou just the day before. After apologizing through tears, Jiang Tingzhou had gone quiet for a moment, then hugged her and said: “No need to apologize. Mom, this is just the fate between us as mother and son.”

He had been even more resolute than when he left after the previous board meeting.

Jiang Moli began crying again at the memory.

“I know I wasn’t a good mother before. He’s my only child now—I’ll treat him well. If Tingzhou doesn’t come back, what will this family have left? I’ll give him whatever he wants. I’ll give him the entire Jiang Group as compensation—really, I will.”

But the time when Jiang Tingzhou needed compensation had already passed. What was the “entire Jiang Group” worth in his eyes now?

Let alone the Jiang Group—even Lu Group held no interest for him anymore. 

So Lu Baiyu stood firm: “Tingzhou has already done his best for the Jiang family. He’s given enough. Aunt Jiang, please—let it go.”

The Jiang family had once fallen so low that only the old Gongyan store remained. Now, the situation was different.

Due to the Lu family’s divestment, coupled with cash flow issues and the bankruptcy of Xiangyun Peninsula—Jiang You’s major investment—some assets had to be sold off.

But the Jiang family still had the Gongyan restaurant chain. Business wasn’t as strong as before, but the brand retained value. Unlike Xiangyun Peninsula, which crumbled without a foundation, Gongyan could still generate profit.

Everyone present understood where that value had come from.

The resources acquired during Jiang Tingzhou’s disappearance, and the loyal customers brought in by the consistently high quality of food in recent years—even if the ship was rotting, there were still nails left. Some of Gongyan’s chefs had been trained by Jiang Tingzhou himself. Some customers had left—but not all.

Even if Jiang Tingzhou were to repay Jiang Moli for the few acts of kindness she had shown him, those debts had long been settled.

At this moment, Jiang Yisheng—who had been pretending to cry—was stunned when he heard Jiang Moli say she would hand the entire Jiang Group to Jiang Tingzhou. He forgot to act and turned to look at her.

She clearly wasn’t joking. 

But after all the schemes he’d orchestrated, how could he accept that?

He hadn’t come here to hear that.

“Mr. Lu, I’m serious. As long as he comes back, I’ll give him Jiang Group,” Jiang Moli said with urgency, ignoring everything else. “From now on, everything will belong to him. He won’t have to fight for anything. I’ve been blind all these years. If I’d given it to him earlier, Tingzhou wouldn’t have had such a hard life.”

But by this point, Jiang Tingzhou had already left—in Wen Qi’s car.

“Aunt Jiang, go home.” Lu Baiyu remained unmoved. Seeing Jiang Moli’s expression grow increasingly pale, he didn’t want anything to happen to her—but still offered one final warning: “Words are meaningless now. You care about Tingzhou, and I don’t want things to get ugly. The Jiang family’s current situation is already bad. If you don’t want it to get worse, stop trying to force him back like this.”

His last sentence was directed at Jiang Yisheng.

The once arrogant Jiang Yisheng lowered his head. He didn’t dare meet Lu Baiyu’s eyes or say anything. But his eyes darted around—he knew Jiang Moli was seriously considering transferring the shares.

The Jiang family was in chaos.

Meanwhile, Jiang Tingzhou was sitting in Wen Qi’s car, discussing the sugar factory.

The car was quiet. The driver drove smoothly, and the atmosphere between them was calm. Wen Qi was now fully committed to this project, but he wasn’t just looking at profits—he also understood the challenges.

Since the sugar factory had expanded, its biggest issue was no longer sales—but a severe manpower shortage. Jiang Tingzhou was upfront about this from the beginning.

He had spent significant effort recruiting Wen Qi to fill management gaps. But there were still many positions unfilled—especially skilled artisans.

Not just now, but in the future too—the gap would only grow wider.

Jiang Tingzhou’s fanbase continued to expand, and the factory’s revenue kept rising. Many items in the online store were often sold out. Once A Bite of China aired, the Deng’s Sugar Factory shortbread shop would open. Even before the broadcast, word of mouth had already drawn huge crowds. Positive online reviews were flooding in, and customer numbers were growing rapidly.

They’d recruited one round of apprentices already, but apprentices needed time—and skilled masters to train them. Craftsmanship wasn’t something that could be rushed.

But good masters were hard to find. Most veteran chefs wouldn’t leave their long-time posts. And ordinary recruitment methods—like résumé filtering—weren’t suitable for this kind of work.

Today’s meeting with Chef Wu was an unexpected gain. Finding more chefs in the future would require those who met Jiang Tingzhou’s standards—experts in their craft. 

Not easy.

“I just discussed it with Chef Wu and my senior brother. I asked if they knew anyone who could be introduced to work at the factory,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “My senior brother has traveled all over and knows many people. He agreed to help. Chef Wu was supportive too—but he brought up one thing.”

“What is it?” Wen Qi asked.

“A cooking competition,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “The next one will be held in Dongjiang Province.”

There would be many famous chefs attending. When Chef Wu mentioned it, Jiang Tingzhou remembered it well.

“I’m familiar with this competition,” he said. “We should absolutely go.”

He didn’t intend to compete himself this time.

In his previous life, Jiang Tingzhou had experienced the darkest days after the “A Bite of China” scandal. He’d won the championship in that same competition—and never looked back.

Chef Wu hoped he’d compete and win again. But Jiang Tingzhou had nothing left to prove. What truly interested him was the gathering of elite chefs.

He sighed. “You know how rare this kind of opportunity is.”

Wen Qi understood from his expression.

Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t going to compete—he planned to recruit a few chefs from the competition.

The sugar factory had never been limited to sweets. It could produce any type of preserved and shippable food. With the opening of the commercial street at the end of the year, they could invite top chefs to open storefronts.

“My senior brother said when he came to film that Yongqing is inclusive—once you come here, you’re part of it,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “My fans are all so kind. I want to make a few more delicious dishes for them. That’s not too much to ask, right?”

Wen Qi smiled and nodded. “Not at all—it’s great.”

Listening to Jiang Tingzhou’s vision, he truly believed the sugar factory had promise.

If they could gather renowned chefs and build their brand, customer traffic and sales would take care of themselves.

But Wen Qi also had some concerns.

“The chef competition is still months away. I know we’re making long-term plans, but the factory needs people now,” Wen Qi said. “Boss Jiang, you want experienced staff—but we don’t have them yet. It depends on whether you’re willing to take a risk.”

Wen Qi had already begun referring to the business as we.

Jiang Tingzhou looked at him, signaling him to go on.

“Jiang Foods has taken a hit recently. They’re downsizing and preparing for layoffs,” Wen Qi said. “While their chefs aren’t on your level, they’ve been trained for years. They’re miles ahead of average hires.”

He’d dined at Gongyan before. Aside from main courses, the desserts inherited from royal chefs were still excellently made.

Seeing that Jiang Tingzhou didn’t respond, Wen Qi assumed he was hesitant because of the family history. “These skilled chefs are rare. If we don’t act, our competitors will. If you’d rather not get involved, I can handle it…”

Wen Qi was prepared to make this a welcome gift for joining the sugar factory project.

But Jiang Tingzhou finally spoke: “It’s not that I’m unwilling. It’s just—Jiang Foods is collapsing, and layoffs are inevitable. But most of those laid off are useless. I don’t want them.”

His sugar factory wasn’t a shelter for incompetence.

Wen Qi was stunned, but Jiang Tingzhou continued: “You don’t understand the Jiang family. Most people there spent more time scheming than working. But you’re right—after all these years, there are a few who are worth something.”

Resumes look impressive—but only by working with people directly can you tell who’s truly capable. Jiang Tingzhou had been Jiang Foods’s president for years—he knew exactly who was who.

“Let me give you a list,” he said. “I only want the people on that list. No matter how high their position—chef or VP—if they’re not on it, they’re garbage.”

Yongqing’s food industry was small, and now they were true rivals. Business was brutal.

But Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t just after talent.

He meant what he said—he had no ties left with the Jiang family. The current head was Jiang Yisheng. With Jiang You gone and no Lu family support, he had begun targeting Jiang Moli and even spreading lies online, accusing Jiang Tingzhou of being ungrateful to his parents.

The accusations were veiled threats—but not too overt. He was afraid of backlash.

Jiang Tingzhou knew tonight’s livestream would quell most of that nonsense. But it wouldn’t be enough.

Jiang Yisheng was the kind who wouldn’t give up until faced with ruin. He had to be crushed completely.

As for Jiang Moli—no matter what she did, she was always lenient toward Jiang Tingzhou. He remembered her kindness. But even without Jiang You, their chances of becoming a normal mother and son were slim.

He would never return to the Jiang family as she hoped.

But as for that “harmonious” family she longed for—Jiang Tingzhou had another idea. 

“When Jiang Yisheng had a stroke and became paralyzed, not just the Jiang family—the entire world—became a whole lot quieter.”