The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 78:

This wasn’t the first time Jiang Tingzhou had said something like this. Yet every time Lu Baiyu refused to give up and kept showing up shamelessly, but every time he heard those words. Jiang Tingzhou’s words still strike a nerve. Hearing them felt like pressing on a wound.

Especially with Wen Qi standing just behind Jiang Tingzhou, wearing a faintly arrogant and provocative smile—Lu Baiyu felt even worse.

He stopped looking at anyone else and fixed his gaze on Jiang Tingzhou. “Tingzhou, I—”

“Please go back.” Jiang Tingzhou looked at him too. Their eyes met, and he only said: “Young Master Lu, I still have a lot to do today.”

Lu Baiyu had no words left. He could only leave, still clutching his injury. As he stepped out, he couldn’t resist glancing back—only to see Jiang Tingzhou speaking to Wen Qi. He couldn’t hear a word of it anymore.

Wen Qi had successfully driven Lu Baiyu away and was naturally pleased, about to speak—when Jiang Tingzhou turned and said, “Mr. Wen, I won’t interfere in your matters with Lu Baiyu, but don’t use methods like that in the future.”

Wen Qi froze. He had thought Jiang Tingzhou hadn’t noticed anything, and since his attitude had seemed supportive, he’d assumed he was in the clear. But clearly, Jiang Tingzhou had seen through it anyway.

It was evident that Jiang Tingzhou disapproved. 

Wen Qi grew nervous, wanting to explain, but looking at his expression, he said nothing in the end.

“Mr. Wen, there’s no benefit in going against him,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “No matter what happened before, it won’t help you.”

Wen Qi’s little tricks didn’t escape Jiang Tingzhou. He’d experienced it before—Lu Baiyu had used similar methods, with even more manipulative combinations of hard and soft tactics. The odd part was that Jiang Tingzhou didn’t seem to resent it much now.

If Lu Baiyu truly wanted to go against Wen Qi, there were plenty of ways. He wasn’t acting as rashly as in their past life.

Jiang Tingzhou fell silent at the thought. He still had things to handle and didn’t have time to deal with this. But just as he turned around, he noticed the bloody shards of glass in the trash can.

The cleaner hadn’t been injured, and neither he nor Wen Qi had cuts. It was obvious who had left the blood behind.

He paused, staring at the red, finding it a bit of an eyesore. He looked around—but Lu Baiyu was already gone.

…Forget it. Jiang Tingzhou sighed inwardly.

He brought home the pot of sunflowers Wen Qi had given him. They were in full bloom, but it wasn’t the right season to transplant them in the yard—they would likely die. It was best to leave them in their pot, and he found a sunny spot for it.

He also tasted the red wine sandwich truffle chocolates that had been so difficult to get. Limited release, pretty packaging—but the flavor was mediocre.

Not to his taste.

Jiang Tingzhou had always preferred the classics. Smooth milk chocolate—simple and satisfying. 

In return, he gave Wen Qi a box of homemade desserts. A clean, equal exchange.

Wen Qi understood, though he felt a bit unwilling. Still, he restrained himself.

He knew Jiang Tingzhou was reserved in some ways. He liked to handle things personally—for example, the situation with Jiang Yifeng.

After Jiang Yifeng left in a hurry last time, he came back a changed man. He no longer acted like a money-hungry opportunist demanding management shares, but behaved honestly. When he visited the sugar factory again, he had a private conversation with Jiang Tingzhou.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t just tell him about Jiang Foods situation—he backed it up with evidence. He knew the Jiang family far too well. If Jiang Yifeng followed his guidance, he would soon see results. Even some of the staff who had been poached from Jiang Foods offered up clues. Several pieces of evidence had come voluntarily—a former manager of Gongyan

Yang Jinhao had been dismissed, but he was a relative of Jiang Yisheng and had good connections. He’d worked at Jiang Foods for years and knew many people. Indignant over what had happened before, he contacted Jiang Tingzhou on his own.

With such evidence, even loyal chefs had their doubts. It was hard to deny that Jiang Yisheng had tampered with ingredient sourcing. During the company’s crisis, he had replaced many key positions with his own people.

And Jiang Yisheng—sneaky as ever—clearly had bigger ambitions. He was likely eyeing the shares in Jiang Moli’s hands.

Jiang Tingzhou saw this clearly. 

He didn’t want the chef to confront Jiang Yisheng just yet. Instead, he wanted him to be mentally prepared and stand firm when the time came.

Jiang Yisheng’s full plan had yet to be revealed. Even if the current evidence were exposed, he could still shift blame to subordinates—just as he had dumped everything on Jiang You before.

For people like him, you had to strike once, decisively—leave them no chance to fight back. Only then was it clean.

So, Jiang Yifeng continued with his “undercover” role to keep Jiang Yisheng complacent—waiting for the right moment to strike.

After talking with Jiang Tingzhou, he was filled with shock and righteous indignation, unable to calm down for a long time.

Even knowing how scheming Jiang Yisheng was, he hadn’t expected it to be this extreme. All for immediate profit, he would even sabotage the restaurant’s long-term prospects. The “Gongyan” brand, passed down from royal chefs, wasn’t built overnight. Having worked there for so many years—his bitterness and anger were inevitable.

Jiang Tingzhou understood. After listening, he only asked one question: “Once you calm down, do you want to work at the factory or the restaurant?”

“You’re serious?” Jiang Yifeng was stunned. “I thought I was just pretending to be undercover?”

The focus now was clearly on Jiang Yisheng, yet Jiang Tingzhou showed no particular emotional investment in the Jiang family’s affairs. This indifference shocked Jiang Yifeng and the master chefs alike—but Jiang Tingzhou remained calm, as if it had nothing to do with him.

“Of course it’s serious. You just sitting around here would look suspicious,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “Besides, your cooking skills have declined. You should practice more.”

Cooking was like a muscle—it deteriorated if unused. 

Jiang Yifeng was a little ashamed, and quietly returned to the kitchen to make the Almond Mille-Feuille cake.

Jiang Tingzhou was right—his technique had indeed gotten rusty. It took quite some time before he got his rhythm back and finally produced a decent result.

Oddly enough, immersing himself in this task helped him calm his anger toward Jiang Yisheng. After one bite of the mille-feuille, tasting the familiar flavor, Jiang Yifeng finally settled down.

Gongyan could still be saved. He wouldn’t let people like Jiang Yisheng ruin it. 

But just as he relaxed, something in the nearby operations room caught his eye.

Besides Jiang Yifeng, many chefs had been recruited recently—coffee experts, tea masters, egg tart bakers. The store wasn’t full yet, but it was already bustling.

The space had been divided into multiple workrooms. Each group had their own station. Nearby was the confectionery factory’s new taro series. The factory had already begun batch production and sent two chefs to the store’s front kitchen.

These young chefs didn’t simply replicate the factory’s crystalized taro strips or lotus taro tarts. Instead, they first made a thick taro cake with half sponge and half taro paste—smooth texture and a touch of cream in the middle. The blend of flavors was excellent. When it was brought out for internal tasting, it received unanimous praise.

Even Jiang Yifeng thought it was delicious. 

But that wasn’t all—they then collaborated with the egg tart team to create a perfectly balanced taro egg tart the very next day.

Fresh out of the oven, the tart filling was thicker and larger than usual. The taro paste had a flowing texture, and they added chewy black glutinous rice at the bottom for a rich flavor profile.

This store’s workrooms were like R&D labs. The chefs didn’t just complete daily tasks—they developed new ideas.

Jiang Tingzhou encouraged this. New creations that passed the internal review and made it to the shelves earned bonuses. If they sold well, the creator got a sizable commission.

And the sugar factory paid on time—generously. The candied taro crisps had already been a hit, and the chefs had benefited. No wonder they were so motivated.

Jiang Yifeng was floored when he heard the figures. He immediately thought—maybe he should just stay here. Jiang Yisheng could never offer this.

And of course, his master felt the same.

At first, Jiang Yifeng thought the store was too large. The sugar factory only made bread, sandwiches, taro, egg tarts, and coffee or tea. Why such a big space?

But the product lines kept expanding. More experienced chefs joined. 

Only then did he realize—within the realm of bread, sugar, and chocolate, there were endless categories. Different chefs could collaborate and spark new, delicious ideas—enough to fill the entire store.

Just as he was feeling proud for replicating the original flavor of the almond mille-feuille, he noticed the other chefs had already taken it further, developing a Napoleon cake.

Jiang Yifeng, tasting it and comparinging it to his own, wanted to take back what he’d said before.

—Gongyan really is beyond saving.

The sugar factory’s atmosphere couldn’t be found at Jiang Foods.

The chefs were skilled, but no dish, however good, could stay popular forever. Jiang Foods had only thrived because Jiang Tingzhou kept innovating—daring to try new things.

Jiang Yisheng had claimed that Jiang Tingzhou only looked down on the Imperial Banquet because he had climbed into high society. But anyone who spent time at the sugar factory could tell—this was Jiang Tingzhou’s doing. Every detail reflected his personal touch.

A man with a mountain of gold wouldn’t covet a small patch of dirt. Jiang Tingzhou had a real career now. He had no need for the old Gongyan.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yisheng believed that no one knew about his plans to target Jiang Moli and her shares during the Jiang Corporation’s stock restructuring—and thought everything was going smoothly.

Jiang Tingzhou was too busy preparing for the store’s opening to intervene. Jiang Moli, unable to reach him multiple times, was still hospitalized. The lawyer she relied on had long been approached by Jiang Yisheng. The people around her were bribed. Even the private hospital had been fully arranged—waiting only for her to void her original will.

As for the new one—well, a heart-attack victim couldn’t speak after death. With Jiang Tingzhou absent, interfering would be difficult. And when the time came, the media could paint him as the “unfilial son who didn’t even see his mother before she died”—more than enough to throw him into scandal.

The plan was meticulous. Jiang Yisheng had thought it all through. 

But on the very day he prepared to act, Jiang Tingzhou received three separate tips warning him that Jiang Yisheng was making a move.

One came from the Li family—both Li Shuyan and Li Xu were aware and had people monitoring that private hospital.

The second came from the master chef’s side.

And as for the third—he didn’t even need to check to know who it was from.

Of course, it was Lu Baiyu.