Wow, Look at That!
Before the dawn dew had even dried, West Lake’s central plaza was already a sea of people. The square, usually so quiet, thronged as if a festival had broken out.
“This way if you’re betting on Master Chef Hwa-ryong!”
“Anyone putting money on Chef Kang of the West Lake Number One Inn, over here!”
The bookmakers’ cries filled the plaza. The odds still favored Master Chef Hwa-ryong at two to one and Kang Yeon at four to one, but more people were betting on Kang Yeon than the day before.
Two enormous cooking stations stood at the center of the square. One flew the banner of the Jianghu Number One Pavilion; the other bore the signboard of the West Lake Number One Inn.
“Wow, look at that!”
At someone’s shout, every head turned. On the Jianghu Number One Pavilion’s side, dozens of assistant cooks were hauling in every kind of rare ingredient. Golden cooking tools glittered in the morning sun, and a great stove already roared with flame.
The West Lake Number One Inn’s side, by contrast, looked almost shabby. Kang Yeon and Jo Hwan simply stood together, quietly arranging their ingredients.
“See that? Different league entirely.”
“Still, I heard the West Lake Number One Inn’s food is delicious…”
“The food’s probably fine. But beating a thirty-year veteran like Master Chef Hwa-ryong? Hard to imagine. Look at the ingredients and tools alone—the gap’s obvious.”
Through the spectators’ murmuring, Jo Seol approached Kang Yeon with an uneasy look.
“Oppa, are you sure you’re okay? They’ve brought so much…”
Kang Yeon answered with an easy smile.
“Seol-ah, cooking isn’t decided by how many ingredients you have or how fancy your tools look. So don’t look so worried.”
Just then a booming voice rolled across the plaza.
“The judges are entering!”
Five figures climbed onto the dais: a magistrate of the Hangzhou Prefecture, the guild master of the Cheonbo Merchant Guild, a retired head chef of the Seorae Inn, a renowned man of letters from West Lake, and two retired masters of the martial world. The duel had drawn such attention that extra judges had been added.
Ak Hu was serving as master of ceremonies for the day. As the owner of Ilyeong Inn—the rising establishment whose Taste Guide had awarded the highest rating—he had been given the honor of hosting. When Jo Seol and Nang Hyeon spotted him, their eyes went wide.
“Huh? It’s Ak Hu oppa?”
“If Young Master Ak is running the proceedings…”
Kang Yeon shook his head.
“No. The fact that he knows me doesn’t change anything. He’s got a strict streak of his own.”
Ak Hu stepped forward and raised his voice.
“For a fair judgment, I propose the following rules. First, both contestants will cook to the same theme. Second, time is limited to one shichen. Third, the judges will evaluate not only taste but creativity and completeness as a whole!”
Both sides nodded. The chief judge, Magistrate Po of the Hangzhou Prefecture, rose to his feet.
“Today’s theme is… a dish that captures the spring of West Lake! This is the subject the judges agreed upon in advance.”
Master Chef Hwa-ryong laughed loudly and rolled up his sleeves.
“Good! I’ll show you the full measure of my thirty years!”
Boom!
He slammed his palm down on the cooking station, and his assistants moved as one. Seafood of every kind, mountain greens, and spring herbs were spread across the boards in an instant.
“Begin!”
At Ak Hu’s signal the cooking duel began.
Whoosh!
Master Chef Hwa-ryong swept his arms, and a pillar of fire shot upward. The crowd burst into gasps of admiration.
“That’s Master Chef Hwa-ryong for you!”
“Look at that fire control!”
His knife flew across the board. Vegetables spun through the air and fell in perfect cuts; seafood seemed almost alive as it danced across the station.
Tadadak. Tadadak.
Sparks leapt with every dazzling stroke of the blade. Hwa-ryong cooked as if he were performing. Sometimes he tossed ingredients high and caught them with the knife; sometimes he bent the flames to his will, holding every eye in the square.
“Incredible!”
“That’s the power of thirty years!”
Kang Yeon, by contrast, was quiet. He simply prepared his ingredients in silence and adjusted the flame with calm precision. There was no spectacle, yet his hands moved with the natural ease of flowing water.
Tuk. Tuk.
The sound of his knife against the board was perfectly even—like raindrops falling onto a still lake.
“That side’s pretty boring, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Next to Master Chef Hwa-ryong there’s nothing to watch.”
The crowd’s reaction left Jo Seol fidgeting. Nang Hyeon watched Kang Yeon with anxious eyes as well. Then Kang Yeon smiled faintly.
Maybe it’s time I made things a little more interesting.
Sssht.
Kang Yeon lifted his knife. In that instant the air around him shifted. The wind seemed to stop; the surrounding noise fell away for a breath. Then his blade began to move.
Sreung.
At first it was slow, soft and yielding as a form of taiji. But the pace steadily rose. A faint light gathered along the edge, and the ingredients seemed almost to move of their own accord, parting cleanly along the path of the blade.
Tung. Tung. Tung.
The measured rhythm of the knife spread like the notes of an instrument.
“Huh…?”
Someone watching let out a startled sound. Kang Yeon’s knife work was not flashy, yet it held something that made people forget to breathe.
Seuk. Seuk. Seuk.
Even spacing, perfect thickness, shapes without a single flaw—as precise as if measured by a ruler, and as beautiful as works of art.
More astonishing still was his command of the fire.
Kang Yeon raised no towering pillars of flame like Master Chef Hwa-ryong. He used only what was needed, at exactly the right temperature—now strong, now gentle, as if conversing with the fire itself.
“Ohh.”
The retired old chef of the Seorae Inn murmured in admiration as he watched. To eyes tempered by long experience, Kang Yeon’s cooking was both utterly natural and deeply beautiful.
That is…
Scattered among the spectators, several masters of the martial world opened their eyes wide. In Kang Yeon’s movements they felt the unmistakable presence of a martial artist.
Meanwhile both men’s dishes raced toward their climax.
At last the time ran out, and the two dishes were completed one after the other. Master Chef Hwa-ryong presented his creation first, face full of confidence.
“Behold my greatest masterpiece—the Dragon-Phoenix Spring Soup!”
Ingredients shaped like dragon and phoenix floated on a golden broth. Lavish garnishes and rare ingredients seized the eye. Steam rose in soft plumes, and a fragrant aroma filled the plaza. Pride shone on Chae Myeong-won’s face—he had poured everything he possessed into the dish.
“Ohh! Amazing.”
“That isn’t food—it’s a work of art!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd. Chae Myeong-won puffed up further and looked toward Kang Yeon. Then Kang Yeon set out his own dish.
“Morning Dew of a Spring Day.”
Kang Yeon’s cooking was astonishingly simple. A few spring herbs and fresh seafood lay in clear broth, arranged in perfect harmony. It lacked the splendor of Chae Myeong-won’s dish, yet something about it soothed the heart at a glance.
The spectators began to mutter.
“Eh, that’s too plain.”
“Doesn’t Master Chef Hwa-ryong win for sure?”
The judges’ expressions, however, told another story. The martial-world masters among them especially could not hide their wonder as they looked at Kang Yeon’s dish.
“Look at that balance…”
“Perfection within simplicity.”
The tasting began with Master Chef Hwa-ryong’s soup. The judges nodded at its brilliant flavors and fragrance. Warm broth wrapped the mouth, followed by a pageant of luxurious ingredients that delighted the tongue. They praised Chae Myeong-won’s work with genuine admiration.
“Truly worthy of thirty years’ experience.”
“The quality of the ingredients stands out.”
Then they tasted Kang Yeon’s dish. At the first spoonful, every judge’s face changed.
“This is…”
The freshness of a spring morning flooded their mouths. The clear waters of West Lake, the tender spring herbs, and the seasonal seafood met in perfect harmony. It was not flashy, yet once tasted it left a deep, unforgettable aftertaste.
Every judge wore a look of shock.
“Remarkable. To draw such flavor from ingredients this simple…”
“To bring out the true nature of each ingredient so completely.”
One of the martial-world judges set down his chopsticks and spoke.
“Master Chef Hwa-ryong’s dish is technically superb, yet too stimulating. Chef Kang’s, by contrast… is as if nature itself has been captured in a bowl. It shows us what the true spring of West Lake is.”
The other judges nodded.
“I agree.”
Having tasted both dishes, the judges returned to their seats. After a long deliberation the result was announced. Ak Hu, receiving it, smiled with quiet satisfaction.
“By unanimous decision of the judges… the victory goes to Kang Yeon of the West Lake Number One Inn!”
The plaza erupted in uproar. It was a result no one had expected. Master Chef Hwa-ryong’s face flushed deep red.
“Impossible. My cooking cannot lose to something this simple.”
Kang Yeon spoke toward Chae Myeong-won.
“Then come try it for yourself.”
Chae Myeong-won stomped over and tasted Kang Yeon’s dish. In that instant his eyes flew wide.
“Ah.”
A single gasp escaped him, and his expression grew complicated. Eating Kang Yeon’s cooking, he remembered the fundamentals of cuisine he had long forgotten—the joy of first stepping into an inn to learn, the happiness on guests’ faces as they ate his food.
In that moment the stubborn pride that had filled Chae Myeong-won’s heart for so long melted away.
“I see. This is what cooking was.”
He let out a long breath and approached Kang Yeon.
“I concede defeat. Somewhere along the way I became so obsessed with spectacle that I forgot the essence of cooking itself.”
Kang Yeon answered calmly.
“It was a fine match. Master Chef Hwa-ryong’s skill is truly impressive.”
Hwa-ryong gave a bitter smile.
“As promised, I will learn one thing from you. What will you teach me?”
Kang Yeon thought for a moment, then said,
“Nothing grand. I’ll simply teach you… how to listen to the voice of the ingredients.”
After the duel ended, the plaza took on the air of a festival. Those who had bet on Kang Yeon cheered, and even those who had backed Master Chef Hwa-ryong declared themselves satisfied with a splendid match.
“The Taste Guide was right!”
“The West Lake Number One Inn really is the best!”
Nang Hyeon came up to Kang Yeon with congratulations.
“That was truly magnificent! Now everyone will trust the Taste Guide.”
Jo Seol was practically bouncing with joy.
“Oppa! You were so cool! Especially that knife work at the end!”
Kang Yeon shrugged.
“I just did it the way I always do.”
Jo Hwan laughed as he spoke.
“Beating the Jianghu Number One Pavilion means we’re going to get even busier.”
“You’re right. Tomorrow’s going to be chaos.”
At Kang Yeon’s matter-of-fact reply, everyone burst into laughter.
Yet somewhere in the crowd, sharp eyes remained fixed on Kang Yeon—people who found the skill of a mere cook far too extraordinary. And in a hidden chamber somewhere around West Lake, a figure in black robes listened to a subordinate’s report.
“The head chef of the West Lake Number One Inn defeated Master Chef Hwa-ryong?”
“Yes, my lord. And…”
“And?”
“The movements he showed during the duel… suggest considerable internal energy.”
The black-clad figure stroked his chin.
“Interesting. Keep watching him. And if necessary…”
A cold smile curved his lips.
“You may apply pressure to the West Lake Number One Inn.”
Meanwhile, back at the inn, Kang Yeon and his companions were sharing the joy of victory.
“Tonight I’ll prepare dinner myself. Call it a celebration feast, shall we?”
At his words everyone cheered. As the night deepened, the inn filled with laughter. Yet Kang Yeon found himself gazing outside, lost in thought.
I wanted a quiet life… but things keep getting noisier.
Today’s cooking duel had drawn enormous attention to the West Lake Number One Inn. Good business was welcome—it was what he had hoped for—but he had never wanted that interest to focus on him rather than the inn.
Then he shrugged and turned back toward the kitchen.
Well, as long as everyone’s happy, that’s enough.