The Game of Life

Zhang Guanghang’s wine-braised chicken was at its final step. He slowly poured the thick, correctly colored sauce over the chicken on the plate, sprinkled a little black pepper and salt on the surface, carefully wiped away the splashed sauce, and then placed the decorative broccoli on top.

The scent of the wine was rich and aromatic, with a savory and mellow taste. Zhang Guanghang gestured with his hand to signal he was done.

The most beautiful staff member, wearing a smart uniform and walking in 6- centimeter stiletto heels, had a smile on her face that belonged only to those victorious in conflict. She stood tall with her chest out and stomach in, slightly tilting her head down in a composed manner, and gracefully picked up the plate of wine-braised chicken from the table.

“The dish you’ve made smells amazing,” her voice sweet, her smile even sweeter.

“Thankyou for the compliment,” Zhang Guanghang said, continuing to tidy up his cooking station.

The wine-braised chicken was then presented to the panel of five judges.

Due to the addition of a generous amount of red wine, the sauce glowed with a hint of wine-red color, large chunks of potato mixed with chicken, and slices of onion floating on top, with black pepper and salt granules scattered on the surface like faint stars. The intense fragrance emitted by the red wine, potatoes, chicken, and onions, after being stewed for a long time, whipped up the judges’appetites.

This was especially true for Han Guishan, who hadn’t found a dish that suited his taste since Wu Minqi’s Kung Pao chicken. His feeling was akin to going out for a meal, having his appetite whetted by the first dish but then being unable to enjoy the following dishes-hungry, aggrieved, and aggrieved, with anger mixed in.

Now that such a tempting dish had been served, Han Guishan excitedly picked up a spoon.

“Do I use a spoon for this dish? I don’t need a knife and fork, do I?” Han Guishan needed to confirm.

Zhu Chang nodded.

Han Guishan took the lead and scooped up a generous spoonful.

A piece of potato, a chunk of chicken, along with a small slice of onion-such a scoop was rare even in university canteens.

Han Guishan devoured it in one bite.

Salty but rich in flavor, with layered complexity and a slight aftertaste of sweetness.

“Delicious!” Han Guishan’s eyes shone with the light of someone whose sole purpose was to eat, and he went for another spoonful.

He took a second spoonful.

And a third.

And a fourth.

Mr. Han, it’s time to score,” Zhu Chang quietly reminded.

Although Han Guishan’s score carried no real significance, the formality had to be observed.

“Oh, right.” Han Guishan carelessly wrote down a ten and continued to eat his wine-braised chicken.

Zhang Guanghang’s wine-braised chicken scored 8.8 points and was currently in the lead.

He’d made quite a heaping serving of it, and as Han Guishan had nearly finished a quarter of the plate in the blink of an eye, Zhu Chang once again quietly reminded him, “Mr. Han, the braised chicken and Wenchang chicken will be ready soon.”

Zhu Chang then glanced at the screen, and the braised chicken from a contestant who had long been overlooked didn’ t look very appetizing, but he added, “The braised chicken doesn’t seem very good, but the Wenchang chicken is still worth looking forward to. The eight treasures chicken made by contestant number 13 is also a whole chicken. Gu Li’s chicken noodle soup will probably be last, but it’s a main dish.”

The subtext being that the dishes from the other contestants might also be quite good, so maybe don’t eat so much right now!

Understanding the hint, Han Guishan swapped the large chunk of potato in his spoon for a piece of chicken.

Jiang Feng was still engrossed in carving carrots.

He had no choice; the Eight Treasures Chicken took longer to steam than a Pigeon, and during that time he couldn’t lift the lid to make any adjustments, so all he could do was wait. Why not make the most of it and do something meaningful?

So far he had carved out Peppa Pig, George, Daddy Pig, Mummy Pig, Suzy Sheep, Rebecca Rabbit, and Polly Parrot. Now he was working on Emily Elephant, determined to carve out the entire cast of the “Peppa Pig” animation while waiting.

As he whittled away at Emily Elephant, Jiang Feng approached the steamer to sniff carefully—there was still plenty of time.

So he confidently continued to carve.

While Jiang Feng’s work had a leisurely and relaxed atmosphere, Sun Jikai was in a state of frenzy.

He discovered that the Wenchang chicken he was preparing was becoming increasingly difficult to shape like a chicken.

For various reasons, the Wenchang chicken, which was simmered over a gentle flame until cooked and then drained, could no longer be arranged in its usual fish-scale pattern on the plate, with pieces of chicken meat, ham, and chicken liver interleaved, along with the chicken head, wings, and tail-making it impossible to form the shape of a chicken.

The charm of the Guangdong-style Wenchang chicken lies in its ability to be reassembled into the shape of a whole, spread-winged chicken after slicing. It was novel and visually appealing, yet Sun Jikai had already lost this advantage with his dish.

After finishing the thickening with cornstarch, he completed the dish by drizzling sesame oil and cooked pork lard over the chicken.

Even though he had finished, Sun Jikai didn’t raise his hand.

He was very anxious, extremely anxious. He knew that his dish was a failure the way it had turned out, but he couldn’t pinpoint where exactly he had gone wrong.

In his opinion, he felt there was nothing wrong with his technique.

After hesitating for a long time, Sun Jikai finally raised his hand.

The Guangdong-style Wenchang chicken was served to the judges.

His mindset has collapsed,” Tong Deyan commented without even picking up his chopsticks.                 ^r

Indeed, the last step wasn’t done right, ruining everything,” Pei Shenghua also felt it was a pity.

Although Han Guishan came from Guangdong Province, he couldn’t afford to eat such food when he was there. Later, when he could afford it, he never returned to Guangdong. He hadn’t eaten Guangdong-style Wenchang chicken in many years and had long forgotten what it tasted like.

He took a bite with his chopsticks.

Han Guishan chose the red wine braised chicken.

The score came out, 7.8 points.

The screen assigned to Sun Jikai displayed 7.8 points. That was okay, at least

the audience didn’t see his face crumble in an instant.

Sun Jikai looked towards Jiang Feng.

His dish, Elephant Emily, had already entered the final stage.

He glanced at the contestant making the braised chicken who seemed invisible

the judges were unwilling to comment on him.

It was terrible, and he could almost be certain of his elimination.

Looking towards Ji Xue, since Sun Jikai had also slightly messed up in the competition advancing to the national top 32, finishing only in fourth place, he actually looked down on Ji Xue who had secured the first place.

Later, after hearing other contestants say Ji Xue had stolen something in a restaurant before, his disdain for her grew even more.

Sun Jikai, at 24, was still a chuunibyou teenager.

No, a chuunibyou young adult.

Also hailing from Guangdong Province, he couldn’t make out what Ji Xue was cooking.

He was close enough to Ji Xue to clearly see the movements of her hands. Just now, she lifted the pot’s lid to add green onion, ginger, Huadiao wine, and seasoning. Sun Jikai was so close, yet he didn’t catch the slightest aroma. Ji Xue had now turned the high heat down to a simmer, slowly stewing the pot on the stove, signaling that the dish was nearly ready to be served.

Sun Jikai finally looked towards Gu Li.

His chicken broth wasn’t ready yet, and the chicken noodles would have to wait.

According to the current scores, Zhang Guanghang was first with 8.8 points, Wu Minqi second with 8.6 points, Zhang Xi and Zhao Shan tied for third with 8.4 points, Chu Peng fifth with 8.0 points, and Sun Jikai sixth with 7.8 points.

There were still four contestants left to finish.

Jiang Feng had performed well in the previous round, and Sun Jikai had heard his grandfather mention him; he was sure to get over 8 points. He couldn’t see through Ji Xue’s dish, but relying on a chef’s intuition, Sun Jikai could tell that it must be an excellent dish.

The unknown braised chicken contestant would be directly out.

The only unknown factor was Gu Li.

Gu Li, within the younger generation of chefs, had a bit of notoriety, typically as a cautionary tale.

A direct disciple of the Master White Chef Sir Tan, lacking talent, the adage “diligence can compensate for lack of skill” was of no use. Even his place in Taste House was owed to Sir Tan’s connections before he passed away.

After working at Taste House for seven years, he hadn’t made a name for himself.

Whenever people mentioned him, they would sigh and say that Sir Tan’s vision was not the best in his later years, taking in such an unremarkable direct disciple, vastly inferior to his senior brothers and sisters.

All was stable now.

Sun Jikai consoled himself in his mind.

Even if his cooking had went off course this time, what he had made was still Guangdong-style Wenchang chicken, and there was no way it could be worse than the chicken noodles Gu Li was preparing.

Although placing eighth was disappointing, at least he could advance, and he could always make up for the loss of face in the next round.

Small issue, no need to panic.