If You're Disappointed, Leave
The first day of the preliminaries was over.
Countless chefs had tasted the bitterness of elimination, yet not a single one left West Lake. The Central Plains Number One Gourmet Competition had become a grand festival for every cook who had made the journey. The East Gate Plaza already thronged with chefs from every corner of the Central Plains. Even amid the frantic preparations for the tournament, word of West Lake’s newest dish—ramen—spread like wildfire.
“Look over there! The Heavenly Treasure Merchant Guild is handing something out!”
Wang Jun, a chef from Luoyang, shouted to his companions. On one side of the plaza, guild staff had set up a free tasting for the competition entrants.
“Ramen, is it…?”
Jin Young, a renowned chef from one of Hangzhou’s most celebrated inns, approached with open suspicion. Around him gathered masters from Chang’an, Kaifeng, Chengdu, and every other great city of the Central Plains.
“So this is the famous ramen.”
Wang Jun accepted a bowl of yellow noodles swimming in a deep red broth and sniffed. A spicy yet savory aroma hit his nose hard.
Slurp—
The moment the first mouthful hit his tongue, Wang Jun’s eyes flew wide.
“Whoa… What in the world is this?”
The springy noodles snapped elastically between his teeth. The intense broth that flooded his mouth was unlike anything he had ever tasted. The heat pricked his tongue, yet the rich umami that followed was pure addiction.
“Hey, how good can it possibly be for you to make that face?”
Jin Young lifted his own bowl with a doubtful scowl.
Slurp—
“Hah!”
His reaction was no milder; if anything, the shock ran deeper. Accustomed to Hangzhou’s delicate cuisine, this bold, unapologetic flavor struck him like a slap of pure freshness.
“These noodles… What are they made of to get this texture?”
Lee Taek, a seafood specialist from Guangdong, lifted a strand with his chopsticks and examined it closely.
“I’ve never seen noodles this curly. What kind of method produces this?”
“The broth’s strange too. It’s this rich, yet it doesn’t feel greasy at all.”
“The ingredients don’t even look complicated. How does it get such depth?”
One by one the chefs fell under ramen’s spell. What stunned them most, however, was the sheer simplicity of the preparation the guild staff cheerfully demonstrated.
“Wait— I just watched. All they did was drop the noodles into boiling water and add the seasoning packet!”
“And it still tastes like this? Impossible!”
Choi Gang, a spicy-food expert from Chengdu, gulped the broth while sweat poured down his face.
“Khhh… This fiery kick! It doesn’t lose to Sichuan cuisine, and it’s even more addictive!”
Ha Do, a middle-aged chef from Chang’an, stroked his beard and muttered,
“So this is West Lake’s innovation… I dismissed the place as a backwater, yet look at this creativity.”
The younger chefs were even more excited.
“We have to figure out how these noodles are made. Take this recipe home and it’ll be a gold mine.”
“Right? Especially the secret behind that chewiness.”
One chef turned a noodle this way and that, analyzing.
“Not fried, not simply boiled… There’s some special treatment here.”
“Maybe they add something unique when they make the dough?”
“Or there’s a secret in the drying process…”
Wang Jun of Luoyang stared at his empty bowl with open regret.
“Thirty years in the kitchen, and I’ve never been hit this hard. Looks simple, yet the finish is this complete.”
“Exactly. We’ve been chasing complicated, flashy dishes all this time… and this direction existed the whole while.”
From a quiet corner of the plaza, Baek Mi-ong watched the chaos and spoke softly to Jin Seol-hyang.
“They’re all going crazy over ramen.”
In truth Baek Mi-ong knew the dish well. After settling in this world, however, he had deliberately cooked only cuisine that already existed in the Central Plains. Using memories of the future, he had decided, could only invite trouble. Kang Yeon clearly felt no such restraint.
That was the confidence that came with being the Absolute Martial God.
“Well? Do you still think the culinary scene of West Lake is dull?”
Jin Seol-hyang bit her lip. She too had tasted the ramen and been shaken.
“I don’t know if this counts as true cuisine… but the flavor is something I have no choice but to acknowledge.”
“And what is true cuisine? Isn’t the root of cooking the act of giving people happiness?”
Baek Mi-ong pointed at the chefs happily devouring their bowls.
“Look at them. The finest chefs in the Central Plains, every last one of them sighing in wonder and pure joy.”
Indeed the plaza rang with delighted exclamations.
“This would be perfect with alcohol!”
“Hangover cure for the morning too!”
One chef suddenly shouted,
“Everyone! They say the West Lake Number One Inn shared the recipe for this ramen with every other inn in the city!”
“What? Really?”
“That’s why half the inns around West Lake are selling it right now!”
The chefs buzzed.
“Bold decision. Most people would monopolize a secret like this…”
“The owner of the West Lake Number One Inn has real guts.”
“I heard he’s the same man who beat the Fire Dragon Head Chef last time.”
They talked about Kang Yeon with growing awe.
“Even more amazing—other inns sell it, but everyone still says the Number One Inn’s version is the best.”
“The power of the original, I guess…”
Jin Young of Hangzhou looked around at his fellows.
“This tournament won’t be easy. I hear a chef named Kang Yeon is representing West Lake.”
“Right. We’d better stay sharp.”
Throughout the plaza the gasps of astonishment never stopped. One small dish called ramen was sending shockwaves through the entire culinary world of the Central Plains.
A man in a black robe appeared before the West Lake Number One Inn. Behind him stood a line of attendants in lavish dress.
“What great cuisine could possibly exist in a backwater like West Lake to cause this much fuss?”
The man sneered down at the chefs eating ramen right outside the inn. Because of the flood of orders, the Number One Inn had begun allowing people to eat outside if they wished.
“Huh? Isn’t that… the Food God’s disciple?”
“That’s right! Young Master Muk Hyang-ru!”
The chefs recoiled in surprise. The Food God’s name was absolute in the culinary world of the Central Plains; any disciple of his was beyond ordinary. Muk Hyang-ru, in particular, was the most famous among them—partly for his skill, and partly for a great many other reasons.
Muk Hyang-ru strode arrogantly toward a chef mid-slurp.
“So this is the so-called ramen everyone’s talking about?”
The chef answered respectfully.
“Yes, sir. A new dish developed by the West Lake Number One Inn.”
“Hmph. A new dish? It’s nothing more than noodles with soup poured over them.”
Muk Hyang-ru glanced at the bowl. He frowned at the red broth.
“Even the color looks cheap. And they dare call this cooking.”
Another chef, somehow unable to stay silent, spoke up.
“Once you taste it, you’ll change your mind. I haven’t touched mine yet—please, try it.”
“Must I?”
“Shouldn’t one taste a dish before judging it? I believe even the Food God teaches that.”
At the mention of his master, Muk Hyang-ru reluctantly lifted a strand of noodles with his chopsticks.
“Hmph. How good can it possibly be? Fine, then…”
Slurp—
For an instant Muk Hyang-ru’s expression flickered. He quickly schooled his face and set the chopsticks down.
“You people are actually eating this cheap flavor and calling it good? As expected, the palates of backwater folk are pathetic.”
But the surrounding chefs did not miss the reaction. His pupils had definitely wavered for a heartbeat.
“Young Master Muk Hyang-ru…”
The chef who had given up his bowl spoke carefully.
“Then… is the Young Master capable of creating a dish this simple yet delicious?”
Muk Hyang-ru’s eyes turned cold.
“How dare you ask me that? A lowly dish like this—”
A familiar voice reached his ear.
“Since when does cuisine have high and low? You’re still saying things like that.”
Baek Mi-ong and Jin Seol-hyang appeared in front of the inn. Muk Hyang-ru flinched at the sight of his master, then quickly composed himself.
“It has been a long time, Master.”
He flicked a glance at Jin Seol-hyang.
“Still hanging around under Master, I see.”
Jin Seol-hyang narrowed her eyes.
“I have no intention of leaving Master. Unlike someone else.”
Baek Mi-ong smiled gently.
“Seol-hyang, enough. Muk, did you truly taste this dish and still say such things?”
Jin Seol-hyang added,
“I still have my doubts about whether it counts as true cuisine, but it is nowhere near lowly. The flavor is outstanding, if anything.”
“Seol-hyang, even you have been seduced by this cheap food?”
She shook her head.
“No. But there is clearly something special about it. The chef of the West Lake Number One Inn—Kang Yeon—is not an opponent to be taken lightly.”
“Kang Yeon?”
Muk Hyang-ru’s eyes flashed.
“That’s the country chef you lost to?”
The front of the inn fell silent for a beat. News that a disciple of the Food God had lost to a chef from West Lake was nothing short of shocking.
“I did lose. But that was—”
“Enough!”
Muk Hyang-ru raised a hand, cutting her off.
“I will confirm it myself. Where is this Kang Yeon?”
At that very moment the kitchen window of the inn slid open, revealing Kang Yeon’s face.
“Why are you looking for me? The guy who only makes lowly food?”
He had clearly heard every word. Muk Hyang-ru strode straight toward him.
“You’re Kang Yeon?”
Kang Yeon smirked.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“I am Muk Hyang-ru, chief disciple of the Food God. I hear you defeated my junior sister.”
“And?”
Muk Hyang-ru pointed a finger at him.
“Come out right now and cook against me. If you dared defeat a disciple of the Food God’s school, then prove your skill against the chief disciple as well!”
“Looking at you, you’re all bluster and probably not much of a cook…”
“What?!”
Muk Hyang-ru’s face flushed crimson. In his entire life no one had ever dismissed him so casually. He was the Food God’s disciple, a famous figure in the culinary world—who would dare insult him like this?
“What? You think I accept challenges from just anyone? I don’t bother with people who haven’t even mastered the basics.”
“Fine. Then I will demonstrate first. I will show you what true cuisine is!”
Muk Hyang-ru rolled up his sleeves.
“I will create the finest dish within thirty minutes.”
“And where exactly do you plan to cook?”
“I will use this inn’s kitchen.”
“We’re busy.”
Muk Hyang-ru’s body trembled with rage.
“This Muk Hyang-ru is asking to use your kitchen and you refuse? Do you not understand what that means?”
“Hmm?”
Just then Nang Hyeon slipped into the kitchen and whispered in Kang Yeon’s ear.
“Young Master Kang, this man is extremely famous. If word spreads that he cooked in our kitchen, it will be a huge boost for the inn.”
“Oh? Really?”
Kang Yeon turned back to Muk Hyang-ru.
“Well, if it helps the inn… Wait a bit then. Let me finish the lunch orders I’ve already taken.”
Muk Hyang-ru’s anger shot to the top of his head. But far too many eyes were watching. He forced the fury down and said,
“Fine. But I will not wait long.”
“If you’re disappointed, leave.”
The crowd in front of the inn buzzed with excitement. An unexpected cooking duel was about to unfold. From a distance Baek Mi-ong watched the scene with a small smile.
“This has become interesting. It will be good experience for Hyang-ru as well.”
Jin Seol-hyang approached Kang Yeon with a worried look.
“Young Master Kang, my senior brother is truly skilled. Especially his dazzling technique and the perfect harmony of flavors—”
“It’s fine.”
Kang Yeon smiled easily.
“I don’t particularly feel like I’m going to lose.”