Chapter 117: A New Challenge

Chapter 117: Chapter 117: A New Challenge

The livestream started sharp at 7:30 AM, and viewers who had been waiting eagerly flooded in.

The viewer count skyrocketed. The popularity rankings, in order, were:

Fu Chao, Nan Zhi, Qi Pei’er, Xie Yu.

Then, with a sudden jump, the rankings refreshed.

Nan Zhi moved into first place.

Meanwhile, Qi Pei’er dropped to last.

...The competition was, to say the least, intense.

However, that wasn’t what the audience was focused on.

Switching between the different camera feeds, they discovered a new setting—

[This place is a little unfamiliar, huh? Don’t remember seeing it.]

[The original mahjong parlor wasn’t this big. Did they unlock a new map?]

[That counter is definitely for Qi Pei’er’s dessert shop!]

[So they’re opening a restaurant *and* a dessert shop?]

...

The guests had their discussion yesterday after the livestream ended.

That’s why the audience was a little confused at first.

It wasn’t until they pieced things together from the conversation that they slowly understood the current situation...

The bullet comments went silent.

With the shop’s expansion, the number of customers was bound to increase as well.

The problem was that Nan Zhi was the only head chef.

Xie Yu, you could say, barely counted as half a chef.

This meant Nan Zhi would inevitably face a much heavier workload.

Could she really handle it?

This was the question on every viewer’s mind!

Aside from a few who had blind faith in Nan Zhi, most of the bullet comments were filled with doubt:

[Nan Zhi is an amazing cook, no doubt, but how is she supposed to run such a large place all by herself?]

[More haste, less speed. I have a feeling they’re heading for a new crisis today.]

[Actually, Nan Zhi is pretty level-headed. She must have her reasons for making this decision...]

[Stop hyping her up. Nan Zhi isn’t a god! Just wait for this to blow up in her face!]

[Some people are getting way too excited about this. Have you all forgotten that her specialty is making a comeback against all odds and proving everyone wrong?]

[There have been a lot of Nan Zhi haters in the comments lately. What’s going on? Did someone hire a troll army?]

...

Nan Zhi was far from unprepared.

At that moment, a plucked chicken lay on the cutting board in front of her.

Hua Country had a long and storied history of preparing chicken, with signature dishes appearing in all its major cuisines: Hakka Salt-Baked Chicken, Sichuan’s Mouth-Watering Chicken, Jiangnan’s Beggar’s Chicken, Yunnan’s Steam Pot Chicken...

And Hua Country’s vast and bountiful lands produced an endless variety of excellent ingredients, each with its own unique qualities.

For example, the Wenchang chicken from Sea Province was known for its thin skin, delicate bones, and tender, smooth meat. The Taihe black-boned chicken from Jiang Province was prized for its high medicinal value. The Qingyuan chicken from Guang Province, rich in subcutaneous fat, made for an exceptionally savory and delicious soup...

Unfortunately, Nan Zhi couldn’t afford to use any of them.

The one before her was an ordinary three-yellow chicken.

It wasn’t expensive, but it boasted tender meat and great value, making it perfectly suited for the dish Nan Zhi was about to prepare.

She crossed the cleaned chicken’s wings and tucked them through an incision at the neck, pulling the tips out through the beak and pinning them to the back. Next, she broke the leg bones with the back of her knife, crossed the legs, and tucked the claws inside the chicken’s belly. This created a pose poetically known as "Mandarin Ducks Playing in Water."

"Did you get that?"

she asked Xie Yu.

Xie Yu...

"Sorry, could you do that one more time?"

Nan Zhi demonstrated again.

Xie Yu was still mesmerized by the blur of her hands.

Nan Zhi: "...Never mind."

She simply gave Xie Yu another task.

After working together for the past few days, Xie Yu had learned to anticipate her needs.

Basically, Nan Zhi would say one thing, and he would immediately be there to assist. They were the very picture of a perfect team.

Meanwhile, Nan Zhi’s hands never stopped moving as she quickly prepared a whole batch of chickens.

Then, she mixed maltose with water to create a glaze, brushed it evenly over the chickens, and let them air-dry until tacky.

By then, the oil she’d asked Xie Yu to heat was at the right temperature. She lowered the whole chickens into the pot, frying them until golden brown before removing them.

Next, she transferred the chickens to a large stockpot. She added crushed ginger, a moderate amount of salt and soy sauce, and a spice packet containing a ground mixture of nine medicinal herbs, including cloves, amomum, and cardamom. Finally, she added water and began to braise them.

Throughout the process, the chickens were held down firmly with an iron rack to prevent them from moving around in the boiling liquid, ensuring they cooked evenly.

After bringing the liquid to a boil and reducing the heat to low, she had to maintain a gentle simmer, just below a full rolling boil.

The three-yellow chickens Nan Zhi had selected were neither large nor old, so they only needed to be braised for three to four hours.

Moreover, this single batch contained dozens of chickens; the stockpot she was using was so large you could almost fit a person inside.

Once cooked, they could be taken out and sold as soon as the restaurant opened. It was an incredibly convenient method that saved Nan Zhi a great deal of time.

While the chickens were braising, Nan Zhi had Xie Yu stir-fry a couple of other dishes.

These days, Nan Zhi focused only on the more difficult dishes, leaving basic ones like stir-fried tomato and egg or hot and sour potato slivers to Xie Yu.

She also adjusted the menu, removing some dishes that she didn’t have time to make herself and that were still beyond Xie Yu’s skill level.

The viewers in the livestream had a moment of realization:

[I knew it! Nan Zhi definitely had a plan!]

[I don’t know, this feels kind of irresponsible. Xie Yu’s skill level is nowhere near Nan Zhi’s. Aren’t they just deceiving the customers?]

[When you go to a restaurant, does the head chef cook every single dish? Don’t they have sous chefs and line cooks with different skill levels?]

[This is actually very professional of Nan Zhi. In a good restaurant, the head chef can’t possibly do everything. Otherwise, what do you think an executive chef is for?]

...

The bullet comments erupted in debate.

Meanwhile, when Xie Yu finished his dish, Nan Zhi took a bite and nodded.

"Mm, not bad."

Xie Yu’s handsome face was etched with nervousness. He asked, lacking confidence:

"Really? It’s okay?"

Nan Zhi just smiled. Without further explanation, she called the others in for a taste test.

The kids were the first to run in.

Nan Yi was at the front of the pack:

"Mommy! I’m here!"

Qing Xi, who was right behind her, let out a burp:

"Is it time for a taste test? BURP!"

Qi Zhang eagerly crowded in:

"Let me, let me!"

And then they saw a plate full of green.

The kids, in unison: "Umm..."

A dislike for vegetables is a universal affliction among children.

Qing Xi and Qi Zhang quickly found excuses to slip away.

Nan Yi was still hesitating.

Only Xie An’an, upon hearing her dad had cooked the dish, got very excited and volunteered to try it.

Fu Chao and Qi Pei’er arrived soon after, grabbing their own chopsticks to try the food.

After one bite, everyone was surprised.

The dish tasted much better than they had anticipated!

Xie An’an said, a little confused:

"Daddy’s cooking was never this yummy before. Did Auntie Zhizhi make this?"

The others wore the same baffled expressions.

It was then that Xie Yu explained:

"It’s from a recipe Nan Zhi wrote herself."

Nan Zhi leaned lazily against the kitchen island, a confident smile on her face, as if everything was unfolding exactly as she had planned:

"You have to trust our quality control."

A recipe she had personally written could allow even someone as clueless in the kitchen as Boss Yang—a man who couldn’t tell one grain from another—to replicate seventy percent of the fried rice’s flavor.

To say nothing of Xie Yu, whom she had personally coached.

For a homestyle dish like stir-fried tomato and egg, even though it tested one’s control of heat and seasoning, Nan Zhi’s recipe had specified the timing down to the second and the measurements down to the gram.

Combined with Xie Yu’s sharp mind, it was only a matter of time before he could cook to Nan Zhi’s satisfaction.

So, when Nan Zhi said she wanted to expand the restaurant, it had been anything but a casual remark.