The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 93

Potatoes may look the same, but each chef prepared them differently. Regardless of the recipe, truly refined knife skills always shone through.

Heavy kitchen knives appeared light in their hands—even agile. Every cut was swift and precise, guided by what seemed like muscle memory. Captured by high-speed cameras, every frame told a story.

Even Zeng Rong, an experienced competition host, was dazzled by the spectacle—let alone the average audience.

Qin Rushuang hadn’t expected much before arriving. Watching the rapidly rising viewership on the livestream platform, she asked, “Tingzhou, did you anticipate all this?”

What if the chefs couldn’t deliver?

“Of course,” Jiang Tingzhou replied. “Based on their résumés, many of them are truly talented. We couldn’t predict exactly what they’d make, but there were bound to be some amazing dishes.”

Potatoes, being bland and commonplace, left room for creativity.

High-level cooking wasn’t just manual labor. It required judgment and control over ingredients and flavor—all of which demanded intellect. Given a spark of inspiration, someone was bound to create something remarkable.

Zeng Rong watched the flurry of activity and commented, “No wonder your judging panel is so large. With so many dishes, we’ll really need to judge carefully.”

Over 100 chefs were divided into 20 random groups. The 100 judges—professional gourmets, public representatives, and invited journalists—were also grouped and scored the dishes separately.

Scores were calculated after removing the highest and lowest from each group, and the rest were averaged. After each group’s showdown, the top 50% would advance.

On-site scoring accounted for 50% of the final result. The remaining half came from online voting—hence the cameras.

Live judging was subjective and could miss details. The entire cooking process and final presentations were recorded and would later be uploaded online. Once the episode aired on the broadcast tower and the one-day voting period ended, the final scores would be calculated.

After all, this round focused on knife skills. Viewers who watched the process unfold had a say, too.

—But this wasn’t just about fairness. Jiang Tingzhou never forgot that this was also a variety show with promotional goals. Audience interaction and engagement were essential.

Even though the chefs were amateurs, their skills were polished to the extreme—visually captivating and highly entertaining.

At first, the livestream garnered moderate attention—nothing unexpected. But from the moment the blindfolded chef appeared, then Ye Shunxin’s “silver needle thread” potatoes, the viewership soared.

At its peak, the broadcast drew over a million simultaneous viewers, with a cumulative total surpassing ten million.

This was just the first match, and it had already exceeded platform expectations.

It wasn’t just the livestream numbers. During the competition, the hashtag #PotatoesTooFancyToAfford went viral. A few well-timed GIF clips posted online stunned casual browsers.

【“Incredible!”】

【“These chefs are amazing!”】

【“LOL—I said I could do that a second ago, and then they cut once and shut me right up. Face slapped.”】

【“Hey! I know the chef slicing longevity noodles from potatoes. He works at my favorite restaurant—I finally get why the food’s so expensive and reservations are always full…”】

【“Wait, we can vote?! I think the bear-shaped carving was amazing, and those potato wedges beside it looked so tasty. Please let Potato Bear advance!”】

【“Vote for the potato bear! Look at those wedges—it’s too cute to lose!”】

Jiang Tingzhou hadn’t noticed the trending topic during the event. He only found out when someone nearby tapped him and showed him the trending page. The selected images were stunning. The tag had climbed from mid-ranking to the top tier.

Compared to celebrity gossip or product ads, this kind of lifestyle-related trend fit the platform’s recommendation algorithm and was more likely to be boosted. Many reposts came from casual users. It was only then that people realized this was the same competition team behind the viral braised pork event.

But Jiang Tingzhou could tell immediately: though there was genuine discussion, the first wave of traffic that got the hashtag trending had clearly been engineered.

He turned to Qin Rushuang. “President Qin, did you buy the trending slot?”

She glanced at the screen and replied, “Not me. Tingzhou, you should already know who’s behind this.”

Indeed, such a push had to be planned. Qin Rushuang had only covered some advertising and wasn’t aware of the competition’s specifics. She hadn’t even seen the hashtag until today. It wasn’t her doing.

Jiang Tingzhou paused, then said quietly, “They really went all out,” and dropped the matter.

Even if the person didn’t show up, he knew exactly who had done it.

Back on the trending page, Jiang Tingzhou saw plenty of admiration for the chefs—but also some wistful comments: the dishes looked amazing, but only the judges could taste them. The audience could only watch and drool.

That was one of the biggest limitations of culinary competitions. If viewers could actually taste the food, the sense of immersion would be much greater.

Qin Rushuang noticed those comments too, but didn’t think there was an immediate solution. The show had already exceeded expectations.

She hadn’t planned to stay till the end, but the more she watched, the more intrigued she became.

Yet, even after all the potato dishes were served and scored, the competition wasn’t over. The livestream didn’t cut—rather, the camera began to pan toward the audience.

Qin Rushuang blinked. “Huh?” Her first reaction was to look at Jiang Tingzhou. “What’s this? An easter egg?”

She assumed the show was over.

“I guess you could call it that,” Jiang Tingzhou smiled. “There’s still one last surprise. We couldn’t just let everyone go home empty-handed.”

Aside from the contestants and judges, the venue also welcomed a live audience for this first round. Because tickets cost money, there were only a few hundred people.

Although only a few hundred paid spectators were allowed to attend, everything had been recorded on camera. When the camera shifted, some of the more enthusiastic audience members waved at the lens. Some were nearby residents who’d dropped by out of curiosity. Others were foodies lured in by the viral braised pork. A few were food influencers hoping to ride the hype.

Even the elderly man who performed face-changing and went viral at the braised pork stall was invited, and the broadcast even cut to him for a moment—prompting a barrage of “LOL” comments. Many assumed it was just a clever bit of comedy from the organizers.

But Jiang Tingzhou wasn’t done yet.

The camera followed the audience as they exited the venue. But instead of an empty plaza, they were greeted by a bustling row of brightly lit food stalls.

A wave of mouthwatering aromas—mostly fried food—hit them before they even saw the stalls.

Staff handed out free food with enthusiasm.

“Come, come, these are parting gifts for the event—potato spirals, fries, mashed potatoes, cold potato salad. Over there we’ve got handmade potato noodles. Come try them all!”

“Free of charge, of course! You bought a ticket, right? These come with it!”

“If you like it, I’ll pack some more for you. These potatoes are the same variety used in the competition!”

During the event, the dishes were only made in small portions—enough for the judges to sample, but not for the audience. But now, everyone could enjoy them.

Freshly fried French fries were still steaming, served in generous boxes with sweet and sour ketchup. Spiraled tornado potatoes were handed out on skewers, their crispy shells seasoned with chili and salt—distinct from street versions. Baked potato patties were stuffed with ham and veggie bits, sizzling with oil.

For those who wanted something lighter, there were tangy cold shredded potatoes. Spicy iron-grilled wolf-tooth potatoes were also a hit.

But the star was a steaming bowl of handmade potato noodles—soft, chewy, and perfect whether in soup or stir-fried.

As a local, Jiang Tingzhou had made sure nobody left hungry.

The crowd, ready to go home, suddenly became more excited than during the competition itself. Many ate right in front of the livestream camera:

【“This cheese mashed potato is amazing! So creamy—look at that cheese pull!”】

【“These hollow fries dusted with flour taste so unique!”】

【“The chips are great—both thick-cut and thin-cut. I’ve never seen thick ones sold before, but they’re super crispy and flavorful!”】

【“Where can I get this potato flour? And that broth? Will you open a store near me?”】

【“Only 30 yuan for a ticket, and you get to eat all this? I’m coming next time for sure!”】

【“How are these potato noodles made? So soft and chewy! And that broth—why didn’t the ones I had before taste like this? Please open a store!”】

The earlier competition had been intense—showcasing knife skills required full concentration, and the chefs were extremely serious, keeping the audiences on edge. But this surprise food street scene brought the mood back down to earth.

Who hasn’t wandered a food street, indulging in tornado potatoes or spicy fries? Oily or not, it’s irresistible—and this time, it was free.

While the on-site audience feasted, livestream viewers felt a pang of jealousy:

【“Wait, what? A 30 yuan ticket gets you a buffet and a live show?”】

【“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this??”】

【“I love fried potato cakes. Please let me have one too!”】

【“I swear if I keep watching, I’m ordering potato noodles for delivery…”】

Qin Rushuang stared at the livestream in disbelief. The viewership, far from dropping, spiked again thanks to this “easter egg.”

She asked, “What about the online viewers?”

“They’ll get theirs too,” Jiang Tingzhou said. “The fries and chips will be part of the new line from Yongqing Sugar Factory. The mashed and shredded potatoes are from Bingcheng Chao’s upcoming line. And the handmade potato noodles are a soon-to-launch convenience food from Haoshi.”

The camera then zoomed in on the booths. The “Yongqing Sugar Factory” logo was clearly displayed. Chefs wore aprons labeled “Bingcheng Chao.” Staff uniforms read “Haoshi.” All were partners—coordinated by Jiang Tingzhou.

These were all dishes Jiang Tingzhou had personally developed. The techniques weren’t too complex. Nothing too difficult to produce.

Potatoes were versatile—they could shine in a high-end chef’s kitchen or a street stall.

“And of course, thanks to Lu Group for their strong support,” Jiang Tingzhou added. “Their potato quality is top-notch. I had a lot of requirements, but they met all of them.”

The next shot showed the disposable bowls holding the food. They were labeled with “Lu Group’s Fresh Produce” and a QR code for their fresh food app. Beyond just advertising, the livestream included a quick breakdown of the potato varieties:

—White-skinned potatoes: crispy and juicy, perfect for shredding.
—Yunnan and Guizhou varieties: fragrant when fried.
—Dingxi potatoes: sweet and glutinous, ideal for mashing or noodles.

Each dish used the right variety—meticulously chosen and prepared with care.