Chapter 65: A Stepping Stone

Upon entering the restaurant, it was clear the staff had already received word from Jia Yi Han in advance, for they immediately led them to a secluded corner, perfect for filming.

“Old Bai, you’d better put in a good word for me today, alright?” Wang Bei whispered, aiming her camera at Renzong Bai.

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he replied, signaling her to rest easy.

After studying the menu carefully, Renzong Bai raised his hand, “One sweet and sour ribs set, please.”

Twenty minutes later, Jia Yi Han came over in person, carrying the meal.

“Why are you having lunch so late?” she asked with a frown, setting the tray before him.

“Dessert must be tasted after a proper meal to judge if it’s truly suitable,” Bai answered. “A dessert isn’t merely a sweet treat; it should serve as the conclusion to a meal. Whether it provides a perfect ending is an important measure of its worth.”

“Mmm…” Jia Yi Han pressed her lips together, suddenly nervous: Today, Bai the Critic seems particularly strict…

“Alright, sis, why not say hello to the camera?” Wang Bei smiled, focusing on her.

Jia Yi Han raised her hand to the camera with graceful warmth, then slipped back into the kitchen.

Renzong Bai began tasting his sweet and sour ribs.

“Tsk, you were so unconvinced last time, but now you’ve obediently taken my advice to heart, haven’t you?” he remarked after sampling the dish, lifting his brows. “The sweet and sour ribs are good, but the choice of appetizer is a misstep. The ribs are already sweet and tangy, and the appetizer—a corn crisp topped with pickled tomato—shares the same flavor profile. It’s a repetition.”

“As stern as ever…” Wang Bei muttered under her breath.

When the meal was finished, Bai turned to the waiter and smiled. “Excuse me, I’d like to add one watermelon-flavored ‘Cloud Rainbow’ dessert.”

“I’ll have the pineapple one!” Wang Bei exclaimed, delighted. “Finally, we’re getting to the main event.”

Truth be told, Renzong Bai was looking forward to it as well; he was quite fond of this dessert. The last time he had tried it, it was just a prototype—only the original sweetness, without the addition of fruit flavors that Jia Yi Han had now incorporated.

Of course, this came with its own risks: if the selected fruit juices didn’t pair well with the dessert’s base sweetness, they could easily overshadow its character.

Soon enough, their “Cloud Rainbow” desserts arrived—still the same snowy white soufflé as before.

Bai narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the dish, then gently inhaled. Indeed, a faint scent of watermelon drifted up. But how had the flavor been infused? If watermelon juice had been directly added, it might have ruined the soufflé’s texture.

How had Jia Yi Han pulled it off?

Scooping up a spoonful, Bai presented it to the camera, then took a bite.

A light, icy sensation melted on his tongue, vanishing like a cloud. A subtle sweetness followed, not cloying, and the fragrance of watermelon gradually filled his mouth.

The watermelon’s sweetness was perfectly suited to the dessert.

“Truly excellent…” Bai furrowed his brow, explaining to the camera, “This isn’t my first time tasting this dessert. Jia Yi let me sample it during her trials, back when it was just the original flavor. Now, with the addition of various fruit essences, it’s been perfected. The watermelon flavor in my portion is rich, yet not overly sweet—which I like very much.”

As he spoke to the camera, Bai caught sight of a little head peeking in from the corner of his eye. Turning, he found Jia Yi Han, lips pressed tight, her beautiful eyes wide as she eavesdropped.

Her adorable look made Bai stifle a laugh, so he waved her over. “Let’s invite the former head chef and owner of Yijia Pavilion to explain how this dessert is made, shall we?”

Startled, Jia Yi Han ducked back, composed herself, and emerged once more as the poised, elegant figure she always presented. She stepped before the camera and greeted the audience, “Hello, I’m the owner of Yijia Pavilion.”

Bai shot her a sidelong glance, as if to say, “There you go again, acting the goddess.”

She returned a glare, eyes wide with mock threat: “Mind your own business!”

“So, can you tell us how you managed the watermelon flavor?” Bai asked curiously. “If you simply added watermelon juice, the soufflé batter would be too thin, and the whole thing would collapse after baking, wouldn’t it?”

“By soaking mint syrup in freshly squeezed watermelon juice and reducing it, you can make watermelon-flavored mint candy. Crush it and fold it into the finished ‘Cloud Rainbow’ soufflé,” Jia Yi Han explained with a gentle smile.

“So that’s the secret… It really is like tasting a cloud infused with watermelon,” Bai remarked, enlightened. He then turned to the camera with a smile. “I wonder if everyone out there would be interested in such a ‘cloud-like’ dessert? If so, you’re welcome to come and experience it at Yijia Pavilion.”

“Guests who come between nine and eleven in the morning or two and four in the afternoon on weekdays get a twenty percent discount!” Jia Yi Han added with a cheerful wink, waving farewell to the camera. “Goodbye, everyone!”

Wang Bei nodded, signaling that filming was over, while Bai immediately turned and fixed Jia Yi Han with a stare.

“There’s no need for that—everyone knows what you’re really like,” he said, lowering his gaze.

“But new viewers might not!” Jia Yi Han replied with conviction. “And besides, everyone loses their composure sometimes. I think my public persona is still salvageable!”

“What’s there to salvage? It’s not even a bad image,” Bai said, baffled.

“It’s just… it makes me seem immature!” Jia Yi Han stammered. “I am, after all, the owner of a restaurant. I shouldn’t be so childish.”

“Do you always keep this up? Isn’t it exhausting?” Bai asked, giving her a sidelong look.

“Not at all,” Jia Yi Han retorted, undaunted. Knowing she wasn’t good at arguing, she quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, I have work to do. Don’t forget, we’re playing ‘After the Apocalypse’ again tonight!”

She didn’t notice that Wang Bei was still standing nearby, holding her camera and quietly muttering, “More great behind-the-scenes footage.”

“Wait!” Bai pressed a hand atop her head, speaking earnestly. “Do you know what it means, once this video goes out?”

“What?” Jia Yi Han looked at him, intrigued.

“This video is your stepping stone,” Bai said. “Once it’s released, your restaurant’s business will boom. If you ride this wave, you’ll have a real shot at entering the ranks of a two-star Michelin. Do you understand?”

Jia Yi Han gazed at him, her beautiful eyes thoughtful. Then she nodded. “I think I’m ready.”

“Good.” Bai’s expression softened. “Then let’s give it everything we’ve got.”

It was just as well—today was Wednesday. The video would go live on Thursday, spread through Friday, and on Saturday and Sunday, a flood of curious customers would surely arrive.

If she could seize this moment and the goodwill of those around her, she was certain to catch the attention of Michelin’s culinary scouts.

(Thanks to Mengmengda You and Me, Zhai Xiaolei, Song in the Rain, I’m Not Jun, Lishen, Book Friend 120306071912157 for the monthly tickets; thanks to Duangen Floating Duckweed and Chang’an White-Robed Friend for two tickets each; and thanks to Zhai Xiaolei, Dou Han, and Yun Yingxiang for their rewards.)