Chapter 51: Bo Ya and Ziqi?

Emperor Bai scrutinized the man before him. The other offered a simple introduction: “I am Yang Hua, head chef of this establishment. If you wish to critique my cuisine, I hope you’ll do so in my presence.”

The man appeared to be around thirty, standing about six foot one, tall and slender, almost fragile in bearing. His expression brimmed with confidence and resolve, yet there was a touch of gloom and cunning about him. Though his features were refined, they lent him an air of softness that belied his masculine presence.

This man would be difficult to deal with...

That was Bai’s immediate impression.

Nonetheless, since this was a business collaboration, Bai knew he must demonstrate his abilities face-to-face.

“The first appetizer,” Bai said, picking up the plate dubbed “Pebbles.” “The jelly is made from beetroot juice, with scallop inside. The texture is bouncy and chewy, but...”

He glanced at the dish of cream beside it. “This cream is actually the key. The jelly and scallop provide texture, but the flavor isn’t strong. It’s the wasabi in the cream that fuses everything together.”

“Oh?” The chef arched his brows, interest sparked.

“Wasabi is used in traditional medicine to treat asthma; its pungency prevents people from instinctively sniffing. At that moment, the aroma of the beetroot jelly and scallop bursts in the nasal cavity with a single inhalation,” Bai explained.

“Ah, so that’s it...” Han Jiayi suddenly understood. “I was wondering about that explosive fragrance...”

“Amazing, truly worthy of your reputation,” Yang Hua applauded with a smile. “Honestly, just by recognizing that, you’ve more than justified your presence here.”

Wang Bei, holding the camera nearby, clenched her tiny fists with pride, as if saying: Isn’t our Old Bai impressive?

Han Jiayi, at once competitive and proud, felt a hint of admiration for Bai. Though she too was a Michelin-grade chef, she could neither create such cuisine nor discern its secrets.

That sense of disparity left her slightly dejected, but she quickly rallied herself: I won’t lose to these two!

“The second dish, the soup—a sour and spicy seafood broth. I can taste clams, prawns, kelp, and I’m certain sea salt was used.” Bai slid the second plate forward. “The fresh aroma and texture from the asparagus tips, combined with the rich yet ungreasy seafood flavor, is a perfect match.”

Yang Hua nodded in satisfaction. “Please continue, don’t mind me.”

“Next, the trout meatball,” Bai brought the third plate before him. “Trout meat forms the outer layer, while inside, sea urchin and cream make up the heart—a ‘meatball with a filling,’ so to speak.”

At this point, Bai placed the final lamb pie in front of him. “The pie is made with lamb rib meat, ground so that the gamey flavor is barely perceptible. In truth, I think the lambiness was deliberately subdued. The real protagonist of this dish is the sauce.”

Bai dipped his finger in the sauce, tasting it. “Foie gras, Jerusalem artichoke, brandy, olive oil, pepper, apple vinegar—a rich sauce so robust it eclipses the flavor of the pie itself.”

Finally, Bai stacked the four plates together. “So, what is the common thread among these four dishes? At first glance, what seems to be the main component is actually just providing texture and aroma—the true star lies elsewhere.”

“Bravo, bravo!” Yang Hua applauded enthusiastically, drawing the attention of nearby guests.

“However...” Bai rested his chin on his hand, studying the plates. “There’s a flavor here I haven’t encountered before, I’m not sure what it is...”

“Burdock,” Yang Hua explained with a smile. “Just a touch, to impart an earthy note.”

“Ah, burdock...” Bai shook his head, sighing. “Indeed, I haven’t tasted enough ingredients yet.”

After all, the “God’s Tongue” challenge couldn’t encompass every ingredient; naturally, Bai would encounter unknown flavors. Only time and experience could remedy that, slowly elevating his palate.

But—

“Have you considered using fish mint?” Bai turned to Yang Hua. “The flavor of burdock is too mild—against wasabi, it is negligible. In fact, I believe that aside from myself, others wouldn’t even notice this ‘earthy’ note. But fish mint could rival wasabi in intensity.”

“Hmm... Interesting.” Yang Hua rubbed his chin in contemplation.

But Bai wasn’t finished. “Moreover, all four dishes are quite excellent individually, but compared to the appetizers and soup, the side and main courses are somewhat inferior. They are still delicious, of course, just... less stunning. The impact doesn’t escalate, but rather diminishes after the side dish, leaving the impression of a roaring start and a whimpering finish.”

“Hmm...” Yang Hua’s brows furrowed, disappointment and displeasure evident.

Wang Bei and Han Jiayi tugged nervously at Bai’s sleeve, urging him not to go too far: This is a business partnership, after all—the client is paying to be critiqued!

Yet Bai pressed on. “Given this, I think each dish succeeds on its own. But placed together as a set, it’s a failure.”

Yang Hua merely smiled, sighing. “Ah, so that’s how it is...”

But Bai shrugged. “Of course, perhaps this also fits the theme of the set—‘the guest becomes the host.’ The appetizers and soup, seemingly leading up to the main, are in fact the true stars.”

At this, Bai glanced at Han Jiayi. “Rather like a supporting actress stealing the spotlight from the leading lady...”

Han Jiayi’s eyes widened, her breath quickening: How did this get pinned on me!?

Though the set’s theme was executed, Bai didn’t believe it was a suitable approach. Traditionally, a set should build toward a climax, and with the appetizers and soup overshadowing the side and main, the result was anticlimactic.

Of course, most people wouldn’t notice such nuances; to the average diner, these four dishes were still delicious.

With that, Bai withheld further comment.

“Oh, oh, oh...” Yang Hua was suddenly moved, stepping forward to grasp Bai’s hand, his voice trembling with excitement. “I’m so touched! You’re like my soulmate! I want you... I really want you! Will you come work at my restaurant? Is a million a year enough? Two million?!”

“Eh?” Bai was momentarily stunned. What kind of development was this?

“Sis, he’s stealing your man!” Wang Bei huffed, nudging Han Jiayi.

“Tch, what nonsense!” Han Jiayi scowled, rolling up her sleeves. “As if I’d lose to him!”

She stepped in front of Yang Hua, smiling politely. “Sorry, he’s my business partner now.”

“Hm?” Yang Hua frowned, shooting Han Jiayi a contemptuous glance. “Well, well, isn’t it Miss Han Jiayi?”

“You... you know me?” Han Jiayi was a little surprised.

(Thanks to Aige Ocean, Tadashii, Swimming Fish F, Reader 20181215174045218, and Battle Soul for the monthly tickets.)