Chapter 52: Perfection and Imperfection

“Naturally.” Yang Hua folded her arms and sneered, “After all, you’ve always been quite high-profile in the past—appearing on variety shows, acting in movies, making yourself into a celebrity.” She let out a sharp, cold laugh. “If you have that much free time, why not spend it honing your culinary skills instead?”

“You—!” Han Jiayi’s face flushed red, but she found herself at a loss for a retort.

“Since Michelin has only recently established itself in our country, earning a one-star Michelin rating is actually quite easy,” Yang Hua explained, raising her hand. “As long as the décor is refined and the food is edible, you can basically get a Michelin star. And yet, this one star is enough to make you so self-satisfied… Truly, the frog at the bottom of a well.”

“I—I am not self-satisfied!” Han Jiayi protested angrily. “I’ve been working hard to improve my cooking!”

Yang Hua cast her a sidelong glance. “So, you entered the entertainment industry to improve your culinary skills?”

“No! But I…” Han Jiayi faltered, wishing she could knock some sense into herself. Why was it that whenever she needed to argue, her brain just wouldn’t work?

“Cooking is like art—it can’t be forced,” Bai Renzong replied calmly. “Sometimes, changing your surroundings might bring inspiration from other fields, don’t you think?”

Han Jiayi seized the lifeline. “Yes, exactly! That’s right!”

Yang Hua turned to Bai Renzong, her expression shifting as if changing masks. She smiled sweetly. “Don’t mind this useless woman. Come to me instead. Whatever you want, I can give you—better than what she can offer. Money, fame, gourmet food…”

“Sorry. What I want is love,” Bai Renzong replied with a gentle smile.

Yang Hua’s face darkened, but she had nothing to say. Meanwhile, Han Jiayi raised her eyebrows, eyes wide in surprise, unsure if she should play along with Bai Renzong’s act—until Wang Bei pinched her from behind.

“Th-that’s right!” Han Jiayi huffed. “What’s so great about you? With Old Bai and me working together, it’s only a matter of time before we surpass you! Who knows, maybe I’ll get that third Michelin star before you do!”

Yang Hua turned to glare at Han Jiayi, her gaze as sharp as an eagle’s fixed on its prey. Clearly, Han Jiayi had hit a sore spot.

Startled, Han Jiayi shrank behind Bai Renzong like a frightened rabbit. “Staring won’t help you!”

At that moment, Bai Renzong smoothly shifted the conversation. “Let’s talk about your set menu. While the execution is impressive, it’s still not perfect.”

“Oh?” Yang Hua frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Clearly, you tried to create a theme by reversing the roles of ‘main’ and ‘side’ ingredients,” Bai Renzong replied. “Each dish seems to feature a main ingredient, but it’s really the supporting elements that stand out. To reinforce this, your appetizer and soup became the guiding stars of the meal. Logically, this works. But artistically, it falls short of perfection.”

“Impossible. This four-course set took me a year to conceptualize. From any perspective, it’s flawless,” Yang Hua said, folding her arms and smiling with curiosity. “Each dish is a harmonious trinity. There can be no better combination.”

“Care to make a wager then? Let your ‘perfect’ menu face off against my ‘imperfect’ one.” Bai Renzong raised an eyebrow and pulled Han Jiayi forward, his hand gently ruffling her soft hair. “Under my guidance, using similar ingredients, she can create a better menu than yours. You’ll be the judge. How about it?”

“This little yellow-haired girl?” Yang Hua glared at Han Jiayi with a murderous look.

Though on the verge of tears from fear, Han Jiayi steeled herself and folded her arms, refusing to back down.

“Fine!” Yang Hua snorted coldly. “Let’s see how you plan to make this girl’s dishes surpass mine.”

“Ha! Great material!” Wang Bei whispered excitedly as she gripped her camera.

So Bai Renzong led Han Jiayi into the kitchen of the Lanwafang restaurant—a place so palatial, it seemed even grander than the dining room itself.

“Is this a joke? A kitchen this opulent?” Bai Renzong frowned.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Han Jiayi clung to his arm pitifully. “I have to warn you—she’s a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu in France, a senior in my field, and pretty famous. I don’t have the confidence to beat her, especially after seeing such a perfect set menu…”

“So what if it’s perfect?” Bai Renzong flicked her forehead. “Who says perfection is always best? Today, I’ll help you defeat her perfection with imperfection! Now hurry up and get started!”

“But how should I even begin…” Han Jiayi rubbed her forehead and muttered, “I don’t have any ideas at all.”

“What do you mean, ‘how’? You’re the chef, why are you asking me?” Bai Renzong pointed to the stove impatiently. “Make four dishes similar to hers! Otherwise, how will we compare?”

“How could an impostor win against the genuine article?!” Han Jiayi replied, puffing her cheeks in indignation.

“Just get started! I can’t help you until you do!” Bai Renzong cut her off impatiently.

“Why are you being so mean…” Han Jiayi shot him a resentful glance, but obediently got to work.

Relying only on the small taste she’d had earlier and her own culinary foundation, Han Jiayi tried to recreate Yang Hua’s four dishes.

Naturally, her recreations could not compare to Yang Hua’s originals. But Bai Renzong never intended for her to copy them exactly; his plan began at the midway point.

“All right, listen to me now.” Once Han Jiayi had reached the halfway mark and was about to finish, Bai Renzong began to instruct her. “From here on, this is where you’ll differ from her. Do as I say…”

“Are you sure?” Han Jiayi asked, hesitant.

“I’m sure.” Bai Renzong nodded. “Do you think you can do it?”

“Hmm… I think so.” Han Jiayi considered for a moment. “Okay, I’ll start then.”

“Go ahead,” Bai Renzong said, giving her head a reassuring pat. “The rest is up to you.”

“Mm!” Energized by his encouragement, Han Jiayi nodded eagerly.

After a flurry of activity, Han Jiayi and Bai Renzong wheeled out the serving cart together.

When the cloches were lifted, four dishes appeared before the crowd. At first glance, they looked much like Yang Hua’s, though her plating and presentation were clearly more refined.

However, a careful examination revealed subtle differences—evidence of Bai Renzong’s guidance during the process.

“Hmph…” Yang Hua eyed the four dishes darkly, then picked up a spoon.

Come, let me show you the power of ‘imperfect perfection,’ Bai Renzong thought confidently.

Behind him, Han Jiayi clung nervously to his arm.

(Thanks to Proud Bacteria, Low-Profile Mango Milk Tea, Jing Shang, Shang Lian Bing, Xing Ban, Bi’an de, K_ON, falcon_lee, and Waiting for Rainy Days for their votes. Special thanks to vxvg and Farewell-Colored Cow for their two votes.)