The Game of Life

The vegetable roll is a local snack, proposed by Chu Peng, who not only showcased his own specialty dish but also considered that Gu Li was a White Chef, achieving a win-win situation with great thoughtfulness.

Chu Peng and Jiang Feng were in the same competition area, and when advancing to the top 32, his score was 0.1 points higher than Jiang’s. At 29 years old, he wasn’t a chef from a famous restaurant. Instead, his family ran a small restaurant passed down from his father, located across from the city’s first middle school—an old establishment.

Like Gu Li, he wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t have much presence. Even though he had made it to the national top 8, Jiang Feng hardly had any impression of him. If Gu Li, who also lacked presence, at least had the boost from being a chef at Taste House and the reputation of a well-known master, then Chu Peng, without any sort of boost, was like the “Hidetoshi Dekisugi” of the Good Taste culinary competition—although he was there at the venue, he somehow remained invisible to others.

The dough was ready-made, firm dough, that is, dumpling dough. It seemed that Chu Peng and Gu Li had consulted with each other, as the fillings for their vegetable rolls were quite similar: Chinese cabbage, wood ear mushrooms, carrots, and vermicelli as the main ingredients, with Gu Li adding crushed eggs.

“Ah, I remember now, that Chu Peng is the owner of that old establishment across from our school!” Zhang Xi exclaimed, as if awakening from a dream. Jiang Feng: ???

I’m someone who only searches the competitors’ basic information online for pre-competition strategy, and yet I know this, but you, a student from the city’s first middle school, are only realizing it now!

“You… don’t go to their restaurant often?” Jiang Feng hazarded a guess, recalling that during his high school days, thanks to Chen Xiuxiu, there wasn’t a restaurant owner in the area he didn’t know—even the small stall holders were clearly distinguished and recognized!

“I often eat dinner there, but Chu, the owner, usually doesn’t come out from the back kitchen. It’s usually the lady boss at the front collecting money. I realized who he was when I saw the vegetable rolls he made,” Zhang Xi explained.

“Are their vegetable rolls very famous?” Jiang Feng pursued further.

“Extremely famous, with a purely vegetarian filling that’s very fresh. The dough, though firm, is exceptionally chewy. They don’t use MSG in their restaurant; they use dried shrimp to enhance the flavor. There are two flavors of vegetable rolls, one with Chinese chives, eggs, and vermicelli, and the other with Chinese cabbage, carrots, and vermicelli. Each costs only 4 yuan, and just one is enough for breakfast to fill you up,” said Zhang Xi, “I can taste the seasonings used, but when I try to make them at home, I just can’t replicate the same flavor.”

“Especially the ones with the Chinese cabbage filling he’s making now, they’re extremely, extremely, extremely fresh!” Zhang Xi emphasized her appreciation for Chu Peng’s vegetable rolls using several “extremelys.”

Chu Peng had already prepared the filling and started rolling out the dough.

For vegetable rolls, naturally, the thinner the dough, the better. Once steamed, the dough becomes white and translucent; the thinner it is, the more it reveals the color of the filling inside. Since the roll is made by rolling up, the thinner the dough, the more flavor it absorbs, resulting in a richer taste upon biting into it. Of course, it shouldn’t be too thin—the right thickness is something the chef must judge.

Vegetable rolls were the signature dish of Chu Peng’s restaurant, one he had perfected over many years of practice. A lump of dough under his hands would quickly turn into a large thin sheet, upon which he evenly spread the filling, rolled it into a long roll, and placed it in the steamer.

The steps were simple, just a common homemade snack that ordinary people could make at home. The filling, however, was of utmost importance, a secret recipe not to be shared.

Zhang Xi, with her keen sense of taste, still couldn’t replicate the rolls exactly even after eating them for so long.

Gu Li was only slightly slower than Chu Peng; as a professional White Chef, he made his dough even thinner and more evenly shaped. Soon, his vegetable rolls too were placed in the steamer.

All that was left was to wait.

Han Guishan, while savoring the taste of the Eight-Treasure Porridge that Jiang Feng had cooked, regretted not having the staff save him a couple more bowls to enjoy while he waited for the rolls. Now, seeing the dishes these two contestants were preparing, he felt even more regretful.

He knew about vegetable rolls and had eaten them before; paired with porridge, they made a meal. It would have been wonderful to have a bowl of Eight- Treasure Porridge to go with the rolls he would eat soon.

Unfortunately, the remaining two bowls were for Wang Jing and Han Youxin, his wife and son—he dared not entertain the thought of taking theirs.

No, it seemed that he might indeed entertain the thought regarding his son’s share—Eight-Treasure Porridge was sweet, and Han Youxin needed to cut down on sweets, being overweight.

“How long do these vegetable rolls need to steam?” Han Guishan inquired.

“About ten minutes or so, very quick,” Zhu Chang responded.

Han Guishan gestured to a nearby staff member.

Upon receiving the summons from the boss, the staff lady immediately walked over to the judges’ booth.

“Go heat up half a bowl of Eight Treasures Porridge for me and bring it over in ten minutes,” Han Guishan said, embezzling half a bowl of Eight Treasures Porridge from Han Youxin to help him lose weight—it made perfect sense! “Old Tong, who do you think will win this time?” chatterbox Pei Shenghua started making small talk.

“Gu Li,” Tong Deyan said.

“I also think it’s Gu Li,” Zhu Chang, another potential chatterbox, joined the group chat.

“Gu Li,” Zang Mu said, speaking up for once.

Pei Shenghua laughed and said, “So you all think it’s Gu Li, eh? I also believe Gu Li has a greater chance of winning.”

“Why? I heard that this Gu Li contestant is famously lacking in talent, isn’t he?” Han Guishan, the crowd-loving spectator, joined the group chat.

“Lacking in talent is all relative. After all, he is Master Tan’s last disciple, and his talent is not as bad as the juniors make it out to be. Sure, he was a bit slow as a child, but not as bad as they say, it’s just an exaggeration,” Zhu Chang explained. “Many White Chefs are the ones who accumulate knowledge slowly before a sudden burst of skill. Just from his chicken soup noodles in the last round, it’s clear his culinary skills have been honed nicely over the years.”

Han Guishan nodded in semi-understanding.

“But he’ll probably only make it to the semifinals,” Pei Shenghua said.

“Yeah, advancing to the finals is a bit difficult,” Zhu Chang agreed.

“The finals will probably see Zhang Guanghang and the Wu girl,” Tong Deyan began making bold predictions.

“The Wu girl? I think that Jiang Feng isn’t bad either,” Pei Shenghua preferred Jiang Feng.

“I think Gu Li has a chance,” Zang Mu clearly had high hopes for Gu Li.

“It depends on the pairing. If Zhang Guanghang goes against Gu Li, and Jiang Feng against the Wu girl, the chances are Zhang Guanghang and the Wu girl will advance. Jiang Feng is still a bit weak in some areas. Mr. Han, there won’t be any porridge cooking in the semifinals, right?” Zhu Chang asked with a smile.

“Ah?” Han Guishan tried hard to recall.

That’s not right, it seems I didn’t set the topic for the semifinals.

It seems like from the semifinals onwards, I’m not even a judge anymore.

“I don’t know, I didn’t set the topic,” Han Guishan answered vaguely, his thoughts already drifting far away.

This won’t do, I need to work something out—if I’m not a judge, there’s no meal ticket for me!

While the other four judges started guessing the finalists, Han Guishan was quietly contemplating how to rig the system so he could sneak his way into being a judge for both the semifinals and the finals. For a moment, no one paid attention to the two contestants onstage.

Not until Mr. Chu’s meatbail dish was out of the pot, sliced, and the staff brought the meatballs to the judges’ booth did everyone refocus on the competition.

Five equally sized portions of vegetable rolls lay quietly in the plate.

With black, white, and orange colors alternating, they were certainly pleasing to the eye.