The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 81

When Jiang Tingzhou’s arm was suddenly grabbed, he turned to look at Lu Baiyu and asked, “What is it, Young Master Lu, do you have something to say too?”

Lu Baiyu didn’t respond immediately.

As he passed by Jiang Tingzhou, he caught a faint scent of medicine on his breath—it was likely something for his cold. His illness hadn’t fully healed yet, and when he spoke earlier, his voice had sounded different from usual—husky, and now even more hoarse. His nose and eyes were slightly red as he walked out.

It hadn’t been obvious when he was speaking earlier, but now that he’d turned his back to the others, it was noticeable if you paid attention.

Was this just because of the cold?

Lu Baiyu looked at him, as if trying to memorize every expression on his face. After a moment, he shook his head, indicating that he had nothing to say right now.

Then, he slowly released his hand and let Jiang Tingzhou go. But in the end, he still leaned closer and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, “I’ll come find you later.”

This wasn’t the time or place to talk.

Jiang Tingzhou gave him a simple reply: “Don’t bother.”

After he left, those who remained behind wore various expressions.

Jiang Moli sat on the ground, covering her mouth and crying.

The senior chefs and others were a bit stunned, eventually only letting out sighs.

But Jiang Yifeng, who had spent some time at the sugar factory, had other thoughts. He took a few steps forward and said, “Now’s not the time to sigh. We’ve dealt with Jiang Yisheng. From here on, we can’t rely on others—we have to count on ourselves.”

The master chef frowned and shook his head. “Didn’t you hear what he said? He’s clearly going against the Jiang family now.”

He felt the relationship between the two parties was already fractured. He had thought that dealing with Jiang Yisheng was a sign of reconciliation—but in reality, it was a complete break.

“I don’t think so.” If he hadn’t interacted with Jiang Tingzhou over the past few days, Jiang Yifeng might’ve agreed. But now, he said with certainty, “If the position in the association can’t be maintained, Jiang Foods will continue to decline. Besides, if Jiang Tingzhou really wanted to use underhanded tactics, he wouldn’t have bothered telling us any of this.”

There were many ways Jiang Tingzhou could have quietly destroyed Jiang Foods, then squeezed out every bit of remaining value to support the sugar factory. But instead, he chose to speak the truth—ensuring both a strategic win and leaving space for future opportunities.

Compared to the aggressive tactics used in high-end restaurant competition—like Gongyan stealing customers—Jiang Tingzhou had already placed his strategy on the table for all to see.

More importantly, Jiang Yifeng had seen with his own eyes how the sugar factory operated. Real business success wasn’t just about schemes. Only after visiting did he truly understand why the sugar factory was thriving.

In the food industry, it ultimately comes down to taste, continuous innovation, and a shared vision.

Jiang Foods had failed in all these areas. What good would it do to cling to his association title?

Jiang Yisheng plotted endlessly and leeched from everyone. As chefs, they remained stagnant, unable to withstand blow after blow. When it came down to it, why should Jiang Tingzhou concern himself with the tangled mess that was the Jiang family?

At that moment, Lu Baiyu, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up.

“Jiang Foods’ situation is a mess. People say they’re sorry—saying they’ve wronged him—but isn’t it because they want him to come back and fix everything?” he said. “If you’re asking something from someone, what’s the point of an apology? And if that’s the case, what’s there to be disappointed about?”

Gongyan was still using dishes developed by Jiang Tingzhou. Over half of their best-selling items came from him. And he never demanded them back.

Just a few days ago, when Jiang Yifeng was at the sugar factory, he went to ask for advice on some poorly performing dishes at their restaurant. Jiang Tingzhou didn’t hide anything—he explained everything. Because of that, the head chef returned the favor by introducing him to a cookie-making expert.

“There are no emotional ties anymore, so there’s no point clinging to the past,” Lu Baiyu continued. “Besides business competition, there’s also business cooperation—mutually beneficial partnerships. Tingzhou has always been fair in business and doesn’t act on impulse. If you want something from him, then prove you’re capable.”

Lu Baiyu said this directly to Jiang Moli. His words pointed out a clear path forward.

Jiang Yifeng nodded in agreement.

After listening, Jiang Moli stopped crying.

Indeed—if she asked him to come back now to take over the disaster that was Jiang Foods, would it be an act of atonement or just another burden? She hadn’t even sorted out her own mess yet.

“That’s why we all need to be vigilant right now,” Jiang Yifeng said. “Once the termites are cleared out from Jiang Foods, it’s on us. Gongyan and the sugar factory are both in Yongqing. The line between competition and cooperation can shift at any time.”

Besides, the core businesses of Gongyan and the sugar factory were different. Who could say for certain what the future held?

News of what happened to the Jiang family was not kept secret, and Jiang Yisheng’s actions had already spread. Jiang Moli was now the chairman of the board, and loyal chefs remained. Jiang Yifeng eventually left the sugar factory and returned.

Before leaving, he left something for Jiang Tingzhou.

Jiang Tingzhou was slightly surprised. It was a small box of mille-feuille pastries.

At the center was Gongyan’s classic Almond Mille-Feuille—it tasted far better than the version he remembered. Jiang Yifeng’s time at the sugar factory hadn’t been wasted. He had tasted the new batch, and they were well-executed. But alongside them were pastries tailored to Jiang Tingzhou’s own preferences.

He could easily identify the flavors. The one on the left had nuts—fragrant kernels dusted with a layer of milk skin. The one on the right had a salted egg yolk and pork floss filling, with the filling tucked between the flaky layers, giving it a crispy outside and soft, rich interior.

Jiang Tingzhou sampled each one—they were indeed delicious.

A small note was tucked beneath the box. Looking down, he read: “Boss Jiang, the road ahead is long.”

Jiang Tingzhou took the note, stared at it for a while, and instead of throwing it away, set it aside.

The sugar factory wasn’t especially busy today. Li Shuyan and An Ping thought he seemed in a bad mood after everything that had happened, and they urged him to go home and rest.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” Jiang Tingzhou replied.

None of what had happened with the Jiang family was new to him. Everything was within his expectations.

“You’ve got a cold. You should rest,” Li Shuyan insisted, pushing him gently. “Alright, alright, everything at the factory is running smoothly right now. There’s nothing urgent.”

Jiang Tingzhou’s cold hadn’t improved—in fact, it had worsened. He felt a bit dizzy.

He took the pastry box home. He didn’t cook. He had little appetite. Instead, he warmed a cup of milk and sat in the courtyard, slowly finishing the pastries.

He ate unhurriedly, thinking about many things—the years he’d spent with the Jiang family, how everything in front of him had changed, and how even Gongyan’s signature pastries now tasted different.

Some people change. But others remain stubborn.

Even after all he had said, Li Shuyan and An Ping never changed their view of him. Wen Qi had told him on the way home, “I know what kind of person you are. My opinion won’t change.”

The sunflowers Wen had given him were still growing in the yard.

Wen Qi was stubborn—but someone else was even more so.

At that moment, Jiang Tingzhou noticed Lu Baiyu standing at the gate. That “don’t bother” from earlier—he hadn’t taken it to heart at all.

The courtyard gate hadn’t been locked. It would open with a push. But Lu Baiyu didn’t enter—he simply stood there and said, “Tingzhou, I have something to ask you.”

He received no reply.

Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t in the mood to entertain him.

He could guess what Lu Baiyu wanted to say. After overhearing the conversation between him and Jiang Moli, the people around him—though they didn’t say it—probably felt sympathy, thinking he must’ve had a hard time in the Jiang family.

Jiang Tingzhou didn’t want to hear more things like “you say that, but deep down you’re sad.” It seemed no one believed him when he said, “I’m not a good person.”

He ran the sugar factory. He had been in business for years. He meant what he said.

The factory now employed more and more people. Soon, more skilled masters would join. Of course he had to think about the broader layout and planning. If not that—then what?

But then, Lu Baiyu said, “I’m here to talk business with you.”

Only then did Jiang Tingzhou finally look at him and say, “What kind of business do I even have to discuss with Young Master Lu?”

“Plenty. In fact, we’ve worked together before, haven’t we?” Lu Baiyu replied. “That ‘A Bite of China’ event wouldn’t have happened without you. I was also involved in the sugar factory’s early days—and I think it went well.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Even putting aside the matter with Li Shuyan, Wen Qi was someone Lu Baiyu brought in. And the highly popular taro strips came from a chef Lu Baiyu recruited. Although Jiang Tingzhou had negotiated all of this, it couldn’t be said that Lu Baiyu had nothing to do with it. In a way, it was a form of indirect cooperation.

However, the two had never partnered directly. Even the express deliveries didn’t count—it wasn’t a money-making deal for the sugar factory, just an additional convenience.

“The sugar factory’s business is growing. Lu Group has the best raw material supply lines in the country,” Lu Baiyu said. “From a business standpoint, it makes sense to choose the most suitable partner—don’t you agree, Tingzhou?”

Handling Jiang Yisheng’s mess had reminded him of this.

Lu Group’s logistics operation encompassed many industries. For instance, Zhouyu Express, which he built, offered excellent freshness preservation and transport efficiency. Lu Group had also been the supplier for Jiang Yisheng in the past.

Lu Baiyu had once felt uneasy about “business cooperation” between them—especially given their past lives. He used to think that if he truly loved Jiang Tingzhou, he should give him everything, without any strings attached. He’d felt that even that wasn’t enough, and kept trying to prove the sincerity of his emotions.

But now, he understood something else.

Even if there wasn’t love between them—having a working partnership was already something. At the very least, it gave him a valid reason to seek him out.

You stand back up where you’ve fallen. Lu Baiyu had thought it through. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad path after all.

And when it came to business—this was something Lu Baiyu truly excelled at.

Jiang Tingzhou, after thinking it over, turned to look at him again.

Lu Baiyu’s words weren’t entirely selfless—but he wasn’t wrong. Lu Group did have the best supply channels.

Of course, Jiang Tingzhou could source some materials himself. But in terms of stability, pricing, and distribution—Lu Group was still the best.

From a purely business perspective, there was no reason to ignore the opportunity that was right in front of him.