Chapter 239: Sweet and Sour Pork

After the “apprentice” completes their first dish, the master chef will score their performance. The final dish will also be scored, serving as a benchmark for their improvement.

Naturally, after guidance, students are expected to show progress, and the masters often give favorable scores, resulting in a happy ending for all.

However, in one past episode, there was an exception where a contestant regressed instead of improving. Their first score was a 7, but the second time, it dropped to a 5. This incident became a hilarious talking point among the audience.

The chef who gave that score? None other than Yao Xin.

Truly, he was the epitome of impartiality.

The ingredients were already prepared, with the same items and quantities distributed to each workstation. Jiang Xiaobai glanced at the recipe, memorized the steps, washed her hands, and began cooking.

She had never made Sweet and Sour Pork before but had eaten it. Though this was her first attempt, she felt somewhat confident.

Yao Xin stood beside her, three steps away, hands behind his back, silently observing her… movements.

He was tall, not overweight, but broad-shouldered and upright, exuding a strong sense of pressure. Combined with his cold, emotionless gaze…

Some had jokingly compared him to a stern military drill instructor.

Under such scrutiny, few could remain composed.

But Jiang Xiaobai paid little attention to his gaze. She was already immersed in her own world, meticulously handling the ingredients.

She cut the pork tenderloin into even strips, mixed it with egg wash, water, and starch, then prepared the sweet and sour sauce. She also chopped the scallions and ginger as side ingredients.

The recipe was indeed detailed, even specifying the exact grams for each ingredient. However, these precise measurements were a headache for many.

Over there, Houhou was already complaining, “What’s 10 grams? What’s a pinch? What’s the right amount? You didn’t even provide a scale—how are we supposed to measure?”

Those who heard him burst into laughter.

Jiang Xiaobai, however, thought to herself: 10 grams? No problem. With just a glance, I can tell exactly how much is needed.

The effects of talismans vary depending on their materials and methods of creation. Some talismans can be made with ordinary paper and ink, while others require special spirit paper and talisman fluid, which can be complex—containing cinnabar, human or animal blood, or plant extracts.

In Jiang Xiaobai’s view, preparing talisman fluid was far more challenging than measuring ingredients for cooking.

Mistakes in cooking might only affect the taste, but errors in talisman fluid could lead to failure, injury, or even death. Carelessness was not an option.

Her movements were steady and unhurried, following each step meticulously. Whether washing or chopping, there was a rhythm to her actions.

While her knife skills weren’t particularly refined, her attention to detail was impeccable, earning a subtle nod of approval from Yao Xin, who had been closely watching her.

Over there, Lin Jiangqu and the food critics were observing the contestants’ actions, occasionally commenting.

“An Jiujiu is impressive—her movements are so swift.”

“Look at Houhou—his handling of the meat slices is hilarious. They look so helpless and pitiful.”

“Gu Qing seems very steady.”

“Jiang Xiaobai… Well, beauty makes everything look good. Even chopping vegetables and washing meat look graceful.”

“I’m hungry. I really want to eat…”

Once the prep work was done, it was time to start frying.

Jiang Xiaobai poured oil into the pan. The golden oil looked clean and pure. Just as she was holding the oil bottle, Lin Jiangqu suddenly spoke—

“XX Brand Peanut Oil—the best for your taste buds!”

Caught off guard by the sudden advertisement, Jiang Xiaobai’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the oil bottle into the pan.

Her face flushed as she quickly capped the bottle and placed it back.

Well, such shows are filled with sponsorships—everything from seasonings to refrigerators and range hoods. Everyone had grown accustomed to it.

Even the audience understood. While too many ads could be annoying, more funding meant higher production quality, right? The most obvious benefit was the ability to invite bigger stars.

This episode, for instance, featured An Jiujiu, a popular food streamer; Houhou, a top comedian; Gu Qing, whose culinary skills were a perfect fit for the show; and Jiang Xiaobai herself.

Her recent rise in fame, coinciding with the announcements of Heaven and Earth and The King of E-Sports, had boosted her visibility, making her a familiar face to the public.

After all, Grape TV, while not as strong as Orange TV or Pear TV, had come a long way since The Taste Wars first started, when the guests were mostly unknown C-listers.

Once the oil reached medium heat, Jiang Xiaobai added the pork strips, gently stirring them until they turned crispy. She then removed them to drain.

She knew that fried foods usually required a second round of frying to maintain their crispiness, so after letting them cool slightly, she returned them to the pan.

Meanwhile, An Jiujiu stopped after just one round of frying.

Lin Jiangqu nodded approvingly at Jiang Xiaobai’s technique, signaling to the food critics—or rather, to the camera—to highlight this detail for the audience.

Once the pork was golden and crispy, Jiang Xiaobai left a bit of oil in the pan, poured in the prepared sauce, and instantly, the rich aroma of sweet and sour filled the air.

She added the fried pork, tossed it evenly, then plated it, drizzling a bit of sesame oil and sprinkling sesame seeds on top.

Being a food show, the tableware was also carefully chosen—large, beautiful plates that felt substantial, reminiscent of high-end restaurant dishes.

Noticing mint leaves on the table, Jiang Xiaobai added a couple to her plate, giving it a fresh, vibrant touch.

By the time she finished, two others had already completed their dishes and placed them on the table.

The table was rectangular, seating over a dozen people. Each contestant would present their dish for tasting, with the master chefs being the first to sample them.

As Jiang Xiaobai finished, Houhou, the last one, brought his dish over.

“Haha, this is the part I’ve been looking forward to the most! Chefs, hurry up and taste—I can’t wait!” one of the food critics urged.

“I’ve been salivating non-stop. When the aroma of frying meat wafted over, I almost went over to sneak a bite! Did you notice I kept my head up the whole time? I was afraid I’d drool if I looked down,” Lin Jiangqu joked, lightening the mood.

The four master chefs wasted no time tasting their apprentices’ dishes, their expressions varied.

 

Chapter 240: A Twist on the Dish

 

“Hmm, not bad. The flavor is quite good.”

An Jiujiu’s master, Lin Xiaoyuan, nodded in approval after tasting her dish. “The balance of sweet and sour is well done, but the meat isn’t crispy enough. It’s slightly undercooked.”

Houhou and Gu Qing’s masters also gave their evaluations:

“The seasoning ratio isn’t ideal, and the meat is cut a bit too thick. But overall, it’s acceptable.”

“Hmm, quite good. Everything else is fine, but it’s a bit too sweet for my taste.”

Jiang Xiaobai looked at Yao Xin, waiting for his critique. Everyone else also watched him eagerly, anticipating his usual harsh remarks.

After finishing his bite, Yao Xin put down his chopsticks, paused for a moment, and then spoke, “The meat is overcooked.”

Just three words—cold and emotionless.

The other chefs exchanged knowing glances, as if saying, “We knew he’d say that,” and then turned to see how Jiang Xiaobai would react. Would she be upset, disappointed, or even tearful?

“Did I fry it for too long?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes. It would’ve been better if you’d taken it out a few seconds earlier. The second round of frying was also too long,” Yao Xin replied with a nod.

“What about the flavor and the sauce?”

“Acceptable.”

Jiang Xiaobai nodded. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Everyone was stunned. It wasn’t just that Jiang Xiaobai wasn’t upset—what shocked them was Yao Xin’s final two words.

“Did Yao Xin just say ‘acceptable’? Am I hearing things?”

“That’s the gentlest comment I’ve ever heard from him!”

“Come on, I need to try Jiang Xiaobai’s dish!”

“Hold on, we haven’t scored yet!”

Even Lin Jiangqu was momentarily distracted. If not for the reminder, he would’ve forgotten the scoring segment. “Right, right. Let’s start with the scores.”

The other masters gave their apprentices decent scores:

“An Jiujiu: 7 points.”

“Houhou: 6 points.”

“Gu Qing: 8 points.”

When it was Yao Xin’s turn, he paused for a moment before saying, “Jiang Xiaobai… 8 points.”

“What did he say?” Lin Jiangqu turned to Lin Xiaoyuan.

“E-Eight points,” Lin Xiaoyuan stammered.

Gu Qing getting an 8 wasn’t surprising—he was already a skilled cook, and Sweet and Sour Pork was no challenge for him. If not for leaving room for improvement, he might’ve even scored a 9.

But Jiang Xiaobai?

Her score came from Yao Xin!

“This makes me even more curious about Jiang Xiaobai’s skills,” Chef Li Wanyu said with a smile. “Jiang Xiaobai, you might not know this, but your master is notoriously strict. In the first round, he usually gives scores around 5. A 7 is already a rare high score. An 8 right off the bat? That means he’s very satisfied with you.”

“I’m not satisfied,” Yao Xin said expressionlessly, looking at Li Wanyu. “The meat was overcooked.”

“We know the meat was overcooked, but aside from that, you seemed quite pleased,” Lin Xiaoyuan teased. “Stop denying it. For you to give such a score, it’s not just satisfaction—it’s high praise!”

Yao Xin glanced at her but said nothing.

Meanwhile, the others couldn’t wait any longer. The dishes were right in front of them, and the tantalizing aroma of sweet and sour pork was driving them crazy.

“I can’t wait any longer—I need to eat!”

Everyone grabbed their chopsticks and dug in, with Jiang Xiaobai’s dish disappearing the fastest. She had only taken one bite herself before the plate was nearly empty.

The show’s production team had planned everything carefully. Each dish was prepared in just the right quantity—enough for everyone to taste, with a little leftover for those who wanted more.

Aside from Yao Xin’s harshness, the other masters were relatively gentle in their evaluations, offering polished, official feedback. But the food critics were far more direct.

“An Jiujiu’s dish tastes good, but it’s not crispy enough. The texture isn’t great.”

“Houhou, your meat is generous in size, but it’s not flavorful enough!”

“Gu Qing’s dish is delicious, but it’s a bit too sweet for my taste.”

“Jiang Xiaobai’s dish is amazing! I don’t think the meat was overcooked at all—I actually like it this way!”

Jiang Xiaobai also tasted the other three dishes and felt the scores were fair. Houhou’s dish was indeed subpar—the 6 points were likely given to save face, as it was worth no more than 4 or 5.

The meat was cut unevenly, resulting in some pieces being slightly burnt while others were undercooked. The seasoning was also lackluster.

Gu Qing’s dish was the best, though a bit too sweet and slightly greasy.

An Jiujiu’s dish was flavorful but lacked the second round of frying.

As for her own dish, Jiang Xiaobai admitted it was slightly overcooked. If she’d fried it for less time, it would’ve been crispy on the outside and tender inside—perfect.

“Sorry, I’m used to my wife’s taste, so I made it a bit sweeter,” Gu Qing said sheepishly.

“Your wife likes sweet food?”

“Wow, that’s so sweet! Do you often cook for her?”

“What a great husband!”

After the tasting, it was time for the most entertaining segment of the show: “A Twist on the Dish.”

In this segment, the masters would take the failed dishes and transform them into something delicious, with the apprentices observing and learning. The masters would provide guidance, and the apprentices could ask questions.

This was the funniest part of the show, as the failed dishes were often hilariously disastrous.

The production team would recruit people who had no cooking skills to prepare dishes off-camera. These dishes were then brought to the set for the masters to work their magic. The footage of the failed attempts was edited into the final episode.

Since the off-camera footage hadn’t been edited yet, Jiang Xiaobai and the others couldn’t see the cooking process. All they saw were four plates of unrecognizable “dishes.”

Calling them dishes was generous—the presentation was a complete disaster. It was hard to imagine how the creators had managed to produce such chaos.

“Each plate is numbered. The highest-scoring team gets Plate 1, and so on,” Lin Jiangqu explained. “Since there are two 8-point scores, you two can choose between Plate 1 and Plate 2.”

Jiang Xiaobai and Gu Qing both scored 8, tying for first place.

“Brother Gu, you go first,” Jiang Xiaobai offered.

Gu Qing was older, and it was only polite to let him choose. Besides, the appearance of the dishes didn’t reveal their taste—it was all about luck.

 

Chapter 241: A Critical Hit

 

Dish 1 was a plate of scrambled eggs with chives, but the color was dark and unappetizing, likely due to excessive seasoning. Dish 2 looked like a mix of bean sprouts and shredded potatoes, with an equally strange appearance.

Gu Qing didn’t hesitate and chose Dish 1, while Jiang Xiaobai took Dish 2. After everyone had their “ingredients,” the cooking process began.

This time, Yao Xin took the lead, with Jiang Xiaobai assisting. Before starting, they needed to taste the ingredients to understand their flavors. Yao Xin picked up his chopsticks, took a bite, and immediately frowned. Jiang Xiaobai followed suit, trying a few strands herself.

It was shredded potatoes, but they were overcooked, losing their crisp texture. The flavor was overwhelmingly salty, with too much soy sauce and MSG.

“How are we supposed to salvage this?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, putting down her chopsticks.

Yao Xin thought for a moment, then rolled up his sleeves. “Potato pancakes.”

Jiang Xiaobai’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!”

By using the shredded potatoes as filling and wrapping them in a thin dough, the excessive saltiness would be balanced. Potato pancakes are a simple, home-style dish, which aligns perfectly with The Taste Wars’s appeal—teaching everyday recipes that are accessible to everyone.

“Go get another potato. We’ll mash it and mix it with these,” Yao Xin instructed.

“Got it.”

Jiang Xiaobai rolled up her sleeves and got to work. After peeling and slicing the potato, she steamed it with the failed shredded potatoes, then mashed them together. The mixture looked much lighter in color.

Yao Xin tasted the mashed potatoes, added a bit more seasoning, and set it aside. Then, he started making the dough.

Jiang Xiaobai couldn’t help much with the dough—she didn’t know how to knead it. She watched as Yao Xin skillfully transformed flour into a smooth dough, then cut it into small pieces.

“Should I roll them into wrappers?” Jiang Xiaobai volunteered.

“Yes. I’ll show you how.”

Yao Xin stopped cutting, picked up a piece of dough, and rolled it into a wrapper. Jiang Xiaobai nodded, “Okay, I got it.”

She picked up the rolling pin and started rolling. The first few were uneven, but she quickly got the hang of it. Though not as perfect as Yao Xin’s, they were decent enough.

Yao Xin glanced at her a couple of times but didn’t say anything, silently approving her efforts. Jiang Xiaobai breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, she noticed the camera moving closer, trying to capture her rolling process. Shows like this thrive on interaction, and Jiang Xiaobai knew she couldn’t just focus on cooking.

She picked up one of Yao Xin’s wrappers and one of her own, turning to the camera. “Look, this one is my master’s, and this one is mine. Can you see the difference? My master is amazing!”

She didn’t see Yao Xin pause for a moment, his expression slightly awkward. But she did notice the cameraman’s surprised look.

The cameraman, a young guy in his early twenties, froze, staring at her face.

“Is there something on my face?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, blushing.

“Uh… there’s some flour,” the cameraman stammered.

He had been planning to film the wrappers, but Jiang Xiaobai’s face suddenly filled the frame. Up close, her beauty was overwhelming—a true critical hit.

Then, he noticed something amusing: Jiang Xiaobai had accidentally smudged flour on her cheek while rolling the dough, making her look even more adorable.

“Where is it?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, panicking.

She tried to wipe it off with her hand, but her hand was also covered in flour, turning her face into a mess. The cameraman couldn’t stop laughing.

“I have tissues!” A female judge ran over with a tissue. “Don’t move, let me help you.”

“Thank you, you’re so kind,” Jiang Xiaobai said, smiling gratefully.

The judge carefully wiped her face, trying not to breathe too hard, as if her breath might disturb Jiang Xiaobai’s beauty. She couldn’t help but admire Jiang Xiaobai’s flawless skin, long eyelashes, and radiant features.

The cameraman captured every moment, knowing how impactful Jiang Xiaobai’s close-up would be for the audience.

After the wrappers were done, Yao Xin filled them with the mashed potatoes and fried them to a golden crisp. Jiang Xiaobai watched eagerly, the aroma making her mouth water.

When the dish was ready, they brought it to the table. Their group was the last to finish, as the other three had already completed their dishes.

This segment wasn’t about scoring, so everyone gathered around, sipping tea and tasting the four dishes together.

 

Chapter 242: The Art of Relationships

 

During the meal, everyone chatted while eating. Lin Jiangqu guided the conversation, occasionally throwing questions to the chefs, asking them to share tips with the audience on everyday cooking dilemmas.

For example:

What’s a quick and nutritious breakfast?

Is it really bad to eat leftovers?

 

The chefs gave their explanations. Meanwhile, Lin Jiangqu didn’t neglect the guests, asking about their daily eating habits and how they cope when work gets too exhausting.

An Jiujiu, a food influencer, shared that her work schedule is flexible. She lives alone, so her meals are entirely up to her. If she feels like cooking, she does; if not, she orders takeout or eats out.

“Since I’m a food blogger, I’ve built good relationships with many restaurants. Sometimes, they even give me small perks, like free snacks,” An Jiujiu said with a laugh.

In reality, it’s more than just small perks. Some restaurants waive her meal costs or give her gift cards to encourage her to promote them. It’s like advertising fees.

When it was Gu Qing’s turn, he said simply, “There’s no such thing as not having time to cook. No matter how busy I am, I make sure to eat well. Life is short, and taking care of your body is the most important thing. Besides, I’m not alone.”

Houhou, sitting next to him, quipped, “If you’re not alone, then what are you?”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Gu Qing paused, then replied, “I mean, I’m not living alone. I have a wife to take care of, so I need to be even more attentive.”

Lin Jiangqu seized the opportunity to dig deeper. “I’m so envious of your relationship with your wife. Could you share how you two met?”

Everyone knew Gu Qing’s wife was a non-celebrity. He often posted photos of meals and their intertwined hands on social media but never revealed her face, adding to her mystique.

Some fans had asked to see her photo, but Gu Qing quickly shut it down.

“I’m a public figure; she’s not. I don’t want her life to be uncomfortable.”

Over time, fans realized how much he valued her privacy and stopped asking.

Now, Lin Jiangqu wanted to uncover some details.

Gu Qing hesitated for a moment, then spoke, “There’s no harm in sharing. When I was young, I got injured and was hospitalized. She was a nurse. Since I had no one to care for me, she brought me meals and checked on me daily, even when she wasn’t on duty.”

As Gu Qing spoke, his face softened with warmth, and he continued.

“She took care of me back then. After we got together, it became my turn to take care of her.”

“How romantic!” Lin Xiaoyuan gushed, her eyes sparkling.

“I’m so envious of a relationship like that,” An Jiujiu nodded in agreement.

Jiang Xiaobai also nodded silently.

Suddenly, Xu Songqian chimed in, “Isn’t romance supposed to be about flowers, gifts, and candlelit dinners? How is cooking a few meals romantic?”

His comment earned him disapproving looks from the women present.

“Who said that? Only young girls think that way! Those of us who’ve experienced life know that simplicity is true romance,” one of them retorted.

“Exactly! Many men think that just because they work and earn money, they’ve fulfilled their responsibilities as husbands. They don’t do housework, buy groceries, or take care of the kids. After work, they either drink with friends or play video games, leaving everything to their wives. If the wife is a homemaker, that’s one thing, but many women today earn just as much as men. Balancing both is exhausting,” said Chef Li Wanyu, who’s married with a three-year-old son.

“That’s right. It’s not complicated. All we want is mutual consideration and care. Housework should be shared, not assumed to be one person’s responsibility. But if you can afford a housekeeper, that’s fine too,” another woman added.

“Anyone who’s done housework knows how tiring and draining it can be. I’d do it for my future husband, but I don’t want him to think it’s my duty,” another chimed in.

The women, most of whom were either married or in relationships, poured out their frustrations, inspired by Gu Qing’s thoughtful example.

Then, Houhou spoke up.

“I once heard this saying, and I think it’s quite insightful:

‘If she’s inexperienced, show her the world’s wonders; if she’s weary, take her on a carousel ride.

If he’s innocent, be his first; if he’s worldly, be his home.’”

The group reacted with mixed expressions, but most nodded in agreement.

Throughout this discussion, Jiang Xiaobai remained silent. Lin Jiangqu noticed and asked, “Xiaobai, what do you think?”

Jiang Xiaobai was caught off guard. She hadn’t spoken because the topic didn’t interest her. To her, discussions about marriage and family felt like listening to someone else’s story.

Housework is tiring? Hire a maid.

Taking care of kids is exhausting? Get a nanny.

A husband drinks or plays games? A wife can have her own hobbies too.

But she knew better than to say this out loud. After a moment of thought, she replied.

“Different people have different experiences and preferences. It’s hard to generalize. But in any relationship, sincerity and effort are key. If both parties are genuine, other issues can be worked out. But if the differences are irreconcilable… there’s no need to force it.”

“Xiaobai’s right. Everyone has their own way of living. If a relationship can’t be salvaged, it’s better to part ways without regret,” someone agreed.

“Whether it’s a man or a woman, no one should feel too small or wronged in a relationship. It’s pointless,” another added.

Gu Qing nodded. “Exactly. Love and effort should be mutual. My wife loves food, so I experiment with new dishes for her every day. She’s meticulous and keeps our home spotless. She also loves flower arranging and often gives me dried flowers with little love notes inside.”

 

 

Chapter 243: Three Chopsticks

 

When Gu Qing spoke earlier, everyone listened with smiles, but by the end of his words, some were twitching their lips, and others rolled their eyes.

“Alright, enough of your lovey-dovey talk. I’m about to get a sugar overload,” An Jiujiu said, rubbing her arms as if to shake off goosebumps.

Gu Qing raised an eyebrow, a proud smile spreading across his face. He seemed to relish the envy and helplessness in everyone’s expressions.

After the chat, it was time for the final segment—the “Graduation” challenge!

Under the guidance of their mentors, the apprentices would cook a dish, which would then be scored by everyone. The chef with the highest score would win the “Golden Chef Medal” for this episode.

The mentors would also score their apprentices, comparing their progress from the initial assessment.

Each group could decide what dish to make, with a variety of fresh ingredients available in the fridge.

“What do you want to cook?” Yao Xin asked Jiang Xiaobai.

Jiang Xiaobai looked blank. “You decide, Master.”

“…What do you like to eat?”

“Um… meat.”

“How about beef?” Yao Xin thought for a moment.

“Sure,” Jiang Xiaobai nodded.

Yao Xin hummed in agreement and went to the fridge, pulling out a pack of enoki mushrooms and a box of fatty beef rolls.

One of the food critics noticed his actions and exclaimed, “Are you making enoki mushroom beef rolls?”

Yao Xin ignored him.

Food critic… Hmph, you don’t have to tell me—I already know!

Yao Xin placed the ingredients on the counter, and Jiang Xiaobai immediately got to work, cutting the roots off the enoki mushrooms, washing them, and blanching them in boiling water before draining them, following his instructions.

“Stuff the enoki mushrooms into the beef rolls… Alright, that’s enough. Now prepare the sauce…”

Jiang Xiaobai obediently followed, mixing the seasonings into a bowl: light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, cooking wine, oyster sauce, sugar, and a pinch of salt.

After stirring well, she set it aside, then heated a spoonful of red chili bean paste in a pan, adding minced garlic and stir-frying until fragrant.

Next, she added the enoki mushroom beef rolls, arranging them evenly in the pan and frying them over low heat. Once the rolls changed color, she flipped them and continued frying.

When the heat was just right, she poured in the prepared sauce and let it simmer for about two minutes. Finally, she sprinkled some white sesame seeds and chopped green onions, then turned up the heat to reduce the sauce before plating the dish.

The reason for blanching the enoki mushrooms first was to reduce the final cooking time, ensuring the beef rolls remained tender.

The dish was simple yet balanced, with both meat and vegetables, making it visually appealing and delicious.

Jiang Xiaobai took great care in plating, arranging everything neatly before looking at Yao Xin for approval. “Master, is this okay?”

Yao Xin hummed without looking at her, heading back to the table first.

Jiang Xiaobai felt reassured—his hum was enough to convey his satisfaction. She didn’t mind his aloofness and followed with the dish.

As in the first segment, the mentor would taste and score the dish first, followed by everyone else.

Yao Xin picked up a piece with his chopsticks, and everyone watched intently, waiting for his evaluation.

However…

After taking one bite, he didn’t stop. He took a second chopstickful, then a third.

Everyone: …

“Hey, Yao Xin, that’s enough! You’re supposed to score it first, not just eat it all!” Chef Xu Songqian said, exasperated.

After three bites, Yao Xin finally put down his chopsticks.

“Ten points.”

Everyone was stunned.

After a moment, Lin Jiangqu blinked. “Yao Xin, did I hear that right? A perfect ten?”

“Yes.”

Lin Jiangqu fell silent, then immediately reached for his chopsticks.

Whether it was a ten or not, they’d have to taste it to know.

The others were a step slower, but they quickly followed suit. By the time everyone had taken a piece, only one remained. Yao Xin then picked up the plate and placed it in front of Jiang Xiaobai. “Try it.”

“Pfft… It’s rare to see Yao Xin being so considerate, actually saving some for his apprentice… Wait, no, did you plan this? You deliberately ate three pieces so we couldn’t have more?!”

Lin Xiaoyuan teased halfway before realizing something was off, widening her eyes at Yao Xin.

Yao Xin remained expressionless, though the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch.

“It’s so good! You didn’t make enough.”

“No wonder he gave it a ten. I agree.”

“It’s really delicious!”

The dish received high praise from everyone, and the initial surprise at the perfect score quickly faded. When it came time to score Jiang Xiaobai, everyone gave her a ten.

The other three celebrities also performed well. They chose dishes that weren’t too difficult, and with the guidance of their mentors, no one messed up. Even Houhou, who wasn’t skilled in cooking, made a decent fish-flavored tofu.

Gu Qing’s spicy stir-fried squid and An Jiujiu’s garlic shrimp with vermicelli were also delicious.

When it came to scoring, Houhou got an 8, An Jiujiu a 9, and Gu Qing a 10.

“Two tens! So who’s the Golden Chef this time—Yao Xin or Xu Songqian?” Lin Jiangqu asked with a smile.

“I prefer bold flavors, so the spicy squid was more satisfying.”

“Yao Xin, I liked Jiang Xiaobai’s beef rolls more. Maybe it’s because I love beef.”

“The squid was tasty, but it still had a slight fishy smell when served. In terms of flavor, Jiang Xiaobai’s dish was objectively better.”

The food critics had their say, and their opinions carried the most weight.

Out of three critics, two sided with Jiang Xiaobai, so Yao Xin won the medal without a doubt.

The other chefs laughed. “It’s not easy for Yao Xin to win one. Congratulations!”

“Yeah, even if my apprentice had done better, I’d have given the medal to you. This is truly rare,” Xu Songqian joked.

Yao Xin was notoriously unpopular with his apprentices, a fact everyone acknowledged. He was terse and blunt in his guidance, and since his apprentices were celebrities with their own reputations, they often couldn’t stand his attitude.

Inevitably, they’d bring some resentment into their cooking, and the results spoke for themselves.

After so many episodes, this seemed to be Yao Xin’s first win. In contrast, Xu Songqian had won two or three times and didn’t mind losing this one, even teasing Yao Xin about it.

“My apprentice deserved to win. How could it be you letting me have it?”

Yao Xin wasn’t pleased, shooting Xu Songqian a sidelong glance and snorting.

“Right, right, it’s well-deserved. The win is yours,” Xu Songqian chuckled. “It’s clear you really like this apprentice. How about teaching her your secret techniques too?”

 

Chapter 244: The Recipe Treasure

This “secret recipe” was no joke—it was the real deal.

Yao Xin had compiled his own cookbook, filled with dishes he had created over the years, some of which were his own innovations and others that were improved versions of existing recipes. In short, these were techniques and recipes you couldn’t find anywhere else.

He named his cookbook “Recipe Treasure,” a collection of his culinary wisdom. He even brought it with him during the show, and it became a running joke among the cast.

According to Yao Xin, he was waiting to find the right apprentice to pass this treasure to. However, after so many episodes, no one had caught his eye—until now.

When Xu Songqian teased him about it, no one expected Yao Xin to nod and say, “Yes, that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

The entire table fell silent for a moment before erupting into exclamations.

“Oh my gosh, Yao Xin, are you really going to give it away?”

“Wow, why am I so excited about this?”

Jiang Xiaobai watched as Yao Xin pulled out a thin book from his pocket. The cover was designed to resemble an ancient text, and for a moment, she thought it might be something like the Nine Yin Manual.

“This is the first time I’ve given this away on the show. Here, I hope you find it useful,” Yao Xin said, handing the book to Jiang Xiaobai.

Jiang Xiaobai hesitated, unsure if she should accept something that seemed so valuable.

Fortunately, Lin Jiangqu quickly explained, “Xiaobai, take it. Don’t feel pressured—this isn’t the only copy. He printed a hundred of them.”

The room burst into laughter.

Jiang Xiaobai chuckled and accepted the book. “Thank you, Master. I’ll take good care of it.”

With that, the recording of the episode came to an end. After taking group photos, everyone went their separate ways.

On the way to the airport, Dong Ran mentioned, “This show is recorded two episodes in advance. It should air in about half a month. While it doesn’t have many highlights, your participation helps make you more relatable. It’s a good way to shift public perception before your upcoming dramas are released.”

“Got it. I’ll leave the arrangements to you, Sister Ran,” Jiang Xiaobai replied with a nod.

While waiting at the airport, Jiang Xiaobai flipped through the cookbook. Linglong peeked over her shoulder. “These methods seem different from what’s out there. I wonder how they’ll turn out. We should try them sometime.”

“Sure, once we’re done with the drama, you and Ming Zhu can experiment with these recipes,” Jiang Xiaobai said with a smile.

“By the way, Xiaobai, the fan groups have been buzzing about your bracelets lately. Those who received them are raving about them, and others are really envious,” Linglong suddenly remembered.

“Not just the fan groups, there’s been some discussion on Weibo too,” Dong Ran added with a laugh.

Jiang Xiaobai had held several giveaways, both on Weibo and as exclusive fan benefits. Once people received the bracelets and experienced their effects, some couldn’t help but share their excitement online, praising the bracelets’ benefits.

However, in today’s “scientific” world, most netizens dismissed these claims as exaggerated idol worship. Some mocked them, while others argued back, which ironically generated a bit of buzz.

Of course, this buzz was still far from trending or making it to the hot search list.

“Well, we could’ve predicted this when we first started the giveaways,” Jiang Xiaobai said, then added, “But make sure fans don’t get into arguments over this. It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already told Ming Zhu and the group leaders to keep an eye on it. We won’t let it escalate and affect your reputation,” Dong Ran assured her.

When they arrived at the airport, Zhou Hai was waiting with the car. As they walked out, they noticed a crowd gathered ahead, holding up their phones as if taking photos.

Dong Ran frowned. “What’s going on? Did we run into another celebrity?”

“I’ll check,” Linglong said, jogging over. She returned shortly. “It’s just an internet celebrity. People recognized him and started taking pictures.”

“An internet celebrity?” Dong Ran sighed. “Some of these influencers are really popular now, even more so than some celebrities.”

“Probably because they’re more relatable. They can interact with their audience through various platforms, making it easier to build a fanbase. Unlike celebrities, who can seem unapproachable,” Jiang Xiaobai commented.

Once they realized it was just an internet celebrity, they decided to leave quickly. But then, Jiang Xiaobai heard someone call her name.

“Ah—oh my gosh, look! It’s really Jiang Xiaobai!”

“Is it really her? I thought I was mistaken.”

Two girls had called out, thinking they might be wrong, but when Jiang Xiaobai and her team turned around, they confirmed it was her.

Jiang Xiaobai’s appearance for the show had been carefully styled by Ji Wen.

Since she was still filming The King of E-Sports, Ji Wen had opted for a different look to keep things fresh. Instead of her usual straight black hair, Jiang Xiaobai’s hair was styled into braids at the front, with the rest left loose and slightly curled at the ends.

The hairstyle gave her a cute, youthful vibe.

For the show, she wore a beige long-sleeved dress, but now she had on a black trench coat. She wasn’t wearing a mask or sunglasses, but she had a wide-brimmed black hat that hid her face when she looked down.

However, when she turned around, her face became visible, and the two girls immediately recognized her.

They screamed in excitement and ran over, asking for autographs.

The airport was already crowded, and the commotion drew more people. Dong Ran urged, “Sign for these two and let’s go. We can’t stay here.”

Airports were prone to chaos, and with their bodyguard waiting in the parking lot, they couldn’t risk a repeat of the incident with Ning Ge.

Jiang Xiaobai quickly signed the autographs, thanked the fans for their support, and hurriedly followed Dong Ran out.

Meanwhile, not far from them, a boy who had just managed to escape the crowd of enthusiastic fans caught a glimpse of Jiang Xiaobai’s retreating figure.

Her tall, slender frame, long black hair, and the straight legs visible under her trench coat…

Wait, the short-haired woman next to her looked so familiar!

 

 

 

Chapter 245: Verification

It seemed not only the short-haired woman but also the one with a ponytail looked somewhat familiar…

The boy stood there, his short hair neat, his figure slim, dressed in slightly loose trendy clothes. A flicker of something passed through his eyes.

“Luoluo, can we take another photo together?”

“Can you dance for us? I want to post it online.”

While the boy was lost in thought, fans gathered around him again.

“Uh, sorry, I have work today and need to catch a flight. How about we take photos next time when I’m wearing Hanfu?” he apologized.

“Ah… okay, but I’m not sure if we’ll run into you again then.”

The fans were a bit disappointed but didn’t push further since they had already taken plenty of photos earlier.

Speaking of Luoluo, he looked great not only in Hanfu but also in modern clothes. His Hanfu videos were already all over the internet, so maybe posting a modern outfit video could boost his popularity even more?

As the fans were happily thinking this, Luoluo suddenly asked, “Who was that person earlier?”

“That’s Jiang Xiaobai, the girl who caught the bad guy in A Small Family in the Town. Didn’t you hear someone calling her name?” The fan looked in the direction he was staring and sighed, “Too bad I missed her. I would’ve loved to get her autograph.”

Jiang Xiaobai had slipped away too quickly, disappearing before anyone could react.

“Jiang Xiaobai…”

Luoluo seemed deep in thought when a gentle, cheerful voice called out, “Luoluo, let’s go. It’s time. Don’t miss the flight.”

A girl in a pink dress, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, petite and adorable, smiled sweetly, holding a freshly bought milk tea.

“Xiao Ling, I think I know who the girl was that helped you at the airport last time.”

Luoluo wrapped his arm around Xiao Ling’s shoulder, and they walked forward together.

“That tall, elegant girl? Who is she?” Xiao Ling widened her round eyes, excited.

“Wait, let me verify something first.”

Luoluo picked up his phone and made a call.

“Kunzi, I heard you have a friend who’s a fan of Jiang Xiaobai?”

“Yeah, he’s my good buddy. Not just a fan, but also the deputy leader of her fan club!”

“Does he know Jiang Xiaobai’s schedule?”

“…Probably. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know if Jiang Xiaobai was at the same airport on the day of the Ning Ge incident.”

“Got it. I’ll ask Juzi and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

After returning to the set, Jiang Xiaobai rested for half a day and resumed filming the next day.

Finally, it was time for her scene with the male lead.

It was almost laughable—after filming for so long, this was the first proper scene Jiang Xiaobai had with Bai Chen.

At the start of the shoot, the scenes were set at home, where Bai Chen’s character wasn’t involved. Now, with the setting moved to the university, Jiang Xiaobai’s scenes were mainly with her roommate Tuan Tuan, her rival Chen Yurou, and her two sidekicks. The male lead had just appeared.

In the plot, Yun Xuan’s performance in the game caught the attention of Luo Tian, the team’s coach. Luo Tian repeatedly extended olive branches to her in the game, but Yun Xuan rejected them each time. Later, Luo Tian discovered that Yun Xuan was a student at the university and came personally to invite her to join his team.

Luo Tian was not only exceptionally handsome but also highly renowned. Though a coach, his fame rivaled that of top players. The moment he appeared on campus, Chen Yurou fell for him at first sight.

Learning that Luo Tian was looking for the in-game player known as “Cloud God,” Chen Yurou volunteered to help, claiming she was familiar with the student council and could easily find someone.

The university had an E-Sports club. Determined to recruit Cloud God, Luo Tian rented a place near the campus and frequented the club, hoping to find any trace of the elusive player.

Yun Xuan herself wasn’t part of the E-Sports club, but one of her sidekicks and her roommate Tuan Tuan were. Occasionally, she would visit to help them defeat bosses, which led to her meeting Luo Tian.

Luo Tian was a skilled player with a proud demeanor, looking down on average players. Seeing Yun Xuan’s beauty but cold, dismissive attitude, he took an instant dislike to her, leading to frequent clashes.

Meanwhile, Chen Yurou aggressively pursued Luo Tian and, upon discovering Yun Xuan’s identity as Cloud God, secretly sabotaged their interactions, embodying the classic “villainess” trope.

As the story progressed, Luo Tian and Yun Xuan grew closer, becoming a bickering yet affectionate pair.

Later, Luo Tian discovered her true identity and invited her to join his team. Just as Yun Xuan was considering the offer, Luo Tian’s team faced a crisis—two key players were bribed to leave.

In this critical moment, Luo Tian and Yun Xuan stepped in to fill the gaps, leading the team to victory and winning the championship.

Luo Tian’s solo scenes had already been filmed, such as his arrival at the university and his interactions with Chen Yurou and the E-Sports club members.

Today, Jiang Xiaobai was filming the scene where the two meet at the E-Sports club.

“…You should go to the Fallen River first to defeat monsters and collect Phantom Stones. Then, use them to navigate the Dark Forest. It’ll make clearing the level much faster.”

Luo Tian stood behind the computer, instructing Da Mao, one of Yun Xuan’s sidekicks.

Yun Xuan walked in, frowning at his words. “Who are you? Stop giving bad advice.”

Luo Tian was stunned. Someone was calling his advice bad??

If it weren’t for trying to build rapport with the club members, why would he bother coaching these amateurs?

His initial admiration for Yun Xuan’s beauty vanished instantly—

His teammates were right. Pretty women were all airheads!

“Bad advice? Am I wrong? Using Phantom Stones in the Dark Forest avoids ambushes from the Dark Wolf King, making the level a breeze! Little girl, don’t tell me you don’t know this trick?”

He crossed his arms, sneering.

“The whole point of going to the Dark Forest is to fight the Dark Wolf King and get its Purple Wolf Fur. What’s the point if you use Phantom Stones?”

Yun Xuan glanced at him, her eyes filled with disdain.

As the two filmed their scene, the E-Sports club members acted as background extras. Director Zhang Weiguo and screenwriter Xia Mu watched their every move on the monitor.