The Reviled God of Cooking Tries to Slack Off - Chapter 97

In addition to the dishes already mentioned, there were also items like fried squid and beef tripe—classic tests of culinary skill widely recognized within the industry.

However, not everyone was affected by the tense atmosphere. As long as one’s skills are solid and confidence unwavering, rules and pressure become secondary. One can simply focus on creating the best dish possible.

Among the competitors was an elderly master chef whom Jiang Tingzhou had always respected. When the rules were being read aloud, the master stood calmly with his arms crossed, showing no signs of nervousness. When filling in his fuel allocation, he thought for only ten seconds before making his choice. When selecting ingredients—despite being at the back of the line—he remained composed.

The expensive ingredients were quickly taken. Spotting a good-looking fish, the master chef selected a fresh sea bass and decided to make steamed fish.

Steamed fish was not a popular choice among contestants. It seemed too simple, lacking the sizzling, fragrant appeal of high-heat stir-fried dishes. But anyone with industry experience knew that a competition-standard steamed fish was no easy feat. The fish must be cooked just right—one second too long, and it’s overcooked.

The master didn’t steam the fish whole. After prepping it, he made a deep cut along the back, then sliced and opened the other side, using two toothpicks to prop up the fish.

The head and tail arched, forming a crescent shape. This presentation not only looked elegant but also helped the fish cook evenly. 

Once steamed, a pour of hot oil released the aroma. A perfect steamed fish had no fishy or muddy smell. The meat should be tender, smooth, and firm—never mushy.

Compared to other dishes, this one appeared understated. The steps were simple, the seasoning minimal. But the judges could taste the mastery—the execution was just right in every aspect, revealing the chef’s profound skill.

While some controlled heat through steaming, others went slower still—such as the chef who made a “Slow-Pan-Seared Orange-Glazed Duck Breast.”

Those last to select ingredients had fewer options. Duck breast, being harder to cook properly, was usually avoided. If not handled well, its rich fat made the meat dry and hard to swallow.

The chef who chose it used a cold pan and low heat to slowly render the fat, achieving crispy skin. The internal temperature was carefully maintained between 55–60°C to ensure tenderness. After frying, the duck was wrapped in foil and rested to allow juices to redistribute.

Though time-consuming, the meticulous preparation paid off. The result was a crispy yet tender duck breast, enhanced by a sweet and tangy orange sauce.

Each experienced chef gave their own response to the challenge, turning the competition into a showcase of thought and technique.

The live broadcast audience, initially amused, gradually grew more serious, eventually reaching a consensus: 

【“Just let me eat it!”】

As the camera zoomed in, revealing juicy cross-sections and flowing meat juices, the food became even more tempting.

【“So many time-sensitive cooking methods—learned a lot today.”】

【“Do the judges really need to eat? Let me do it. I’ll judge with my stomach.”】

【“How do I even choose? Every dish looks amazing!”】

Although the livestream viewers couldn’t taste the food, they could still judge by watching the cooking process and the judges’ reactions. Some judges’ expressions said it all.

Each group had five contestants facing seven judges. Portions were small—just enough for a bite or two per judge, nowhere near a full meal.

The true test? See whose plate the judges cleaned completely. That was the surest sign of a winning dish.

Of course, some contestants miscalculated. In their rush to grab ingredients, they used less fuel, only to run out of heat before finishing. The result: undercooked dishes. The judges, looking awkward, would nibble on the semi-cooked edges. The scores in such cases were easy to imagine.

The overall competition had its relaxing moments and intense highs—more dynamic than the last round. Even from the beginning, the livestream numbers surpassed the previous finale’s.

Inside the organizers’ monitoring room, several staff members were watching the performance metrics with keen interest.

Jiang Tingzhou said nothing—his eyes were locked on the competition. But everyone could tell how focused he was.

Today, instead of Qin Rushuang, the representative from Lu Group was Lu Baiyu.

He had been sitting silently behind Jiang Tingzhou. 

Now, as the competition neared its end and  Jiang Tingzhou stepped out to take a phone call, Lu Baiyu finally spoke.

“Looks like this episode turned out well. Once it’s edited and aired on TV, ratings should hit a new high,” he said. “But Director He and Director Zeng should be ready—this competition has gone beyond many people’s expectations.”

He was referring to the recent meddling attempts by outside parties.

To Lu Baiyu, supporting Jiang Tingzhou meant more than just showing up. Everyone involved needed to understand the stakes.

Zeng Rong glanced toward where Jiang Tingzhou had gone and said, “General Manager Jiang is an exceptional talent. I’m well aware.”

Deputy Director He also nodded. “You can count on us, Young Master Lu.”

Just then, the whistle blew—the judges had finished scoring, and the round was officially over.

Lu Baiyu responded, “Good. I’m glad you both understand.”

While many contestants wiped sweat and breathed sighs of relief, viewers knew this wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning of something more exciting.

As the camera turned to the enthusiastic audience, the barrage of comments intensified.

【“Congrats to the lucky ones who got tickets. I’m seething. Gnashing teeth.jpg”】

【“Who gets it? Last time I tried to buy tickets during the livestream—they were gone in minutes. Only 800 this time. I’ve been refreshing daily and found nothing.”】

【“Tickets are way pricier now. Last time it was 30 yuan for all-you-can-eat potato dishes. This time it’s 100. I better see some value.”】

【“If it’s all stir-fried dishes this time, that’s a rip-off. I can get a full meal at my neighborhood stir-fry joint for 50.”】

But soon the audience realized where that 100 yuan was going.

Outside, the number of food stalls had doubled since last time. It looked like a full-on snack street.

The former French fry stall now offered a variety of tempura.

Tempura also tested heat control: shrimp fried to a golden crisp with tender meat inside, or pumpkin, taro, and sweet potato fried to soft sweetness, paired with dipping sauces—simple, crisp, and fragrant.

Beside it were other fried snacks.

Eggplant wasn’t done tempura-style but as Chinese-style stuffed eggplant fritters—crispy outside, not oily, the batter and heat perfectly judged.

Further along came wok-fried dishes: spicy stir-fried pork tripe, stir-fried beef, Kung Pao chicken—all famous “heat control” recipes.

But the longest queue was at the stir-fried rice noodle stall.

Simple as it seemed, good fried noodles required intense heat, generous portions, and lard to make the noodles fragrant, dry, and chewy.

Despite the growing excitement, some livestream comments remained skeptical.

【“Honestly? Mid-tier. I can get this at my local night market.”】

【“I don’t like fried stuff. Too greasy.”】

But as the food options expanded, the complaints faded.

There were steamed dishes like pork ribs and meatballs, hotpot stalls boiling thin-sliced beef in spring water, and fresh fish scalded briefly before being dipped in sauce. Even more luxurious? A seafood booth.

No cooking needed here—deep-sea sweet shrimp could be eaten raw after thawing, tasting fresh and sweet. Black tiger prawns were served grilled with garlic butter. Squid with mustard, scallops with vermicelli, and grilled oysters rounded out the stall lineup—plump, fresh, and fragrant.

By this point, the livestream comments had turned unanimous:

【“My Lord, please bless me to get a ticket next time!”】

At this moment, Lu Baiyu stepped out from the backstage area and searched the crowd until he spotted Jiang Tingzhou.

At the far end of the stalls, there was a dessert stand operated by the sugar factory’s head chef. Their specialty? Strawberry cream soufflé.

Soufflé is a dessert that relies heavily on oven temperature. Get the timing and heat just right, and you get something airy and cloud-soft.

Earlier, Jiang Tingzhou had said he’d stepped out to take a call but hadn’t returned. No one knew where he had gone. 

After searching, Lu Baiyu finally found him—sitting quietly behind the stall, in a spot where he could watch the entire scene unfold.

Lu Baiyu was about to call out but stopped. He simply followed Jiang Tingzhou’s gaze.

The crowd was cheerful, everyone immersed in good food and lively conversation. Contestants who had just finished cooking had shed their aprons and joined the crowd, some even posing for photos with excited viewers.

Jiang Tingzhou sat alone, eating a warm piece of soufflé, silently observing it all.