It's a Secret.
At last every gaze in the crowd locked onto Kang Yeon.
"Shall we get started ourselves?"
The first thing he did was wash the rice.
Swish—swish—
He submerged the grains in clear water and stirred them with careful hands. Once, twice, three times… he washed them with quiet devotion until the water ran pure.
"What's so special about that?"
"He's just cooking rice, isn't he?"
But those who watched more closely saw something else entirely.
"Huh? Those hand movements…"
"He's handling every single grain so delicately."
Kang Yeon's hands cleaned the rice completely without bruising a single grain—a level of skill even a thirty-year veteran chef would struggle to match.
In time he transferred the rice into the pot and added water. Even the amount of water was no rough estimate. He measured the exact ratio of grain to water with his fingers, adjusting carefully as he poured.
Kang Yeon slipped his fingers into the pot.
A soft hum.
A cool, refreshing energy flowed from his fingertips and sank into the rice and water.
"Good. Time to put the rice on."
Whoosh.
He set the pot over the brazier, then breathed the power of fire into the flames once more.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.
The fire in the brazier danced and leapt, its heat surging stronger.
"What about prepping the ingredients?"
Beside him Muk Hyang-ru was trimming green onions, cleaning the root ends exactly the way Kang Yeon had taught him.
"Green onions are done. Chef Kang, what about the garlic?"
"Mince it fine—but not too fine. Leave enough texture that you can still feel it when you chew."
"Understood."
Sizzle—
Kang Yeon swirled oil across a iron pan. A measured amount of oil spread across the bottom, beginning to hold a gentle heat. As the temperature rose, tiny waves rippled across the surface.
"This is where it really begins."
He murmured it almost to himself. His eyes were softer than usual, yet held a deep, unwavering focus.
Tap—
The moment the minced garlic hit the iron pan, a rich, nutty fragrance exploded outward with a lively sizzle.
"Whoa…"
A nearby chef let out an involuntary gasp of admiration. It was only garlic being fried—so why did it smell so intoxicating?
Flick. Flick.
Kang Yeon's wrist moved with fluid grace. He tilted the pan just enough so the garlic cooked evenly. Too hard and it would burn; too gentle and the aroma would never bloom. He walked that razor-thin line with perfect control.
When the garlic turned a pale golden hue, he moved to the next step.
"All right. Time for the real star of the show."
Swoosh—
From beneath the counter he drew out a small earthen jar. The instant he cracked the sealed lid, a sour-yet-spicy scent rose in soft curls.
Muk Hyang-ru's eyes sparkled.
At last, he thought—Kang Yeon was revealing his secret ingredient.
"What is that?"
"It's called kimchi."
Spectators craned their necks. Kang Yeon lifted a piece with chopsticks. The well-fermented red cabbage kimchi glistened moistly at the tips.
Plop—
The moment the kimchi hit the searing iron pan, it gave a sharp "chiiik—" as if a tiny firework had burst.
"Oh!"
Moisture from the kimchi met the hot oil in a bright, cheerful crackle. Kang Yeon took up a spatula and began turning the kimchi.
Sizzle—sizzle—
With every sweep of the spatula the kimchi flipped and danced. The sourness burned away, sweetness rose, and a spicy fragrance spread in every direction.
"Look at those hand movements…"
"The fire looks fierce, yet nothing's burning at all?"
Kang Yeon's wrist work was exquisite—firm yet gentle, swift yet unhurried. It moved as naturally as conversation with an old friend.
The kimchi grew translucent, its edges taking on a light brown edge. That was the moment.
"Now it's time for the rice."
Thud—
He lifted the pot lid. White steam billowed up in soft clouds. The savory scent of freshly cooked rice braided itself with the spicy perfume of the kimchi.
"My goodness, it already smells delicious…"
A woman sniffed the air greedily. Kang Yeon scooped rice with the spatula and added it to the iron pan.
Crisp—crisp—
Hot grains striking the oiled pan bottom made a sound as bright and cheerful as rain. He stood the spatula on edge and began cutting through the rice as he mixed.
"That's it. That's the key."
From the judges' seats, Baek Mi-ong—the only person present who knew kimchi fried rice—muttered to himself. You had to blend the rice thoroughly with the kimchi without crushing a single grain. Stir too hard and the rice turned to paste; too lightly and it never mixed.
Sha-sha-shak—
Kang Yeon's spatula moved with perfect rhythm.
One by one the grains kissed the kimchi juices and took on a soft orange glow.
"Wow… that color looks so appetizing."
"I'm drooling…"
Just then Kang Yeon poured a ring of soy sauce around the edge of the pan.
Sizzle—
The soy sauce hit the scorching iron and thickened at once. A nutty, salty fragrance burst outward with explosive force.
"Hah!"
Someone sucked in a sharp breath. This was no ordinary soy sauce smell. It was a seductive blend of deep savoriness and sweetness that clung to the senses.
"Here we go."
Kang Yeon flipped the fried rice with swift efficiency, folding the soy sauce through every grain. The rice took on a light toast, growing even more fragrant.
"Last step."
Crack—
He broke an egg. The yolk burst plump and spilled over the mound of fried rice.
Sizzle-sizzle—
The instant the egg met the hot rice, the savory aroma deepened another layer. Kang Yeon scrambled it in with rapid strokes of the spatula. Soft, half-set egg wrapped each grain and added a gleaming sheen.
"Almost there."
He finished with a final circling drizzle of sesame oil.
Drrrk—
The oil soaked into the hot fried rice and the fragrance reached its peak.
Crisp-crisp—
He gave it a few more turns, then killed the flame. With careful hands he began plating the fried rice.
Swipe—swipe—
He gathered it with the spatula into a neat round mound, the way a mother might shape rice for her child—full of quiet care.
Last of all he scattered finely sliced green onion across the top.
Softly—
Emerald green fell over the vermilion rice and brought it to life.
"Done."
It was simple. To the people of the Central Plains it contained only one unfamiliar ingredient. There were no lavish garnishes, no costly luxuries. And yet—
"Gulp…"
The sound of people swallowing hard rose from every side.
Glossy vermilion fried rice, bright green onion on top, and that rich, spicy fragrance drifting through the air.
"Is this… really just fried rice?"
"Why does it look so good?"
Everyone marveled that a dish made by simply frying rice could look this extraordinary. Muk Hyang-ru stared, lost for words, then murmured,
"To put this much care into fried rice…"
When the time-up bell rang, all fifty chefs stopped as one. The judges rose one after another and began tasting the dishes.
"Very well—judging begins now."
Yun Tae-ho declared it with solemn weight.
The first chef to be judged explained his dish with a tense face.
"I prepared mountain-vegetable bibimbap that carries the spring of my hometown."
One by one the dishes were evaluated. Gasps of admiration rang out; some received gentler, regretful scores.
At last it was Kang Yeon's turn.
"This is… a dish I've never seen before."
Yun Tae-ho studied the plate with a puzzled expression.
"Yes. It's kimchi fried rice—the kind my mother used to make for me."
"Kimchi fried rice?"
Yun Tae-ho tilted his head at the unfamiliar name of the ingredient.
"Such a thing exists. It's quite delicious—please, try some."
Beside him Baek Mi-ong scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth. Instantly his eyes flew wide.
"Heavens… what is this…"
It had been a long time, yet the taste was familiar. Inside it lived warmth. A mother's love for a hungry child was poured into every single spoonful. When Yun Tae-ho followed and tasted the kimchi fried rice, he too started in open surprise.
"Remarkable. I never imagined so simple a dish could move the heart this deeply."
The masked judge nodded as well. Though his face could not be seen, a clear aura of satisfaction radiated from him.
"Excellent."
The judges gathered briefly to confer on Kang Yeon's dish, then moved on to the remaining entries. Geumsudo's imperial banquet was lavish—every rare ingredient woven together into a feast fit for an emperor.
"Technically perfect. The harmony of ingredients is outstanding as well."
Chef Cheongyeon's dish was a work of art—almost too beautiful to eat, and the flavor was exquisite in its delicacy.
"A dish that satisfies both palate and eye."
Baek Mirang's cooking shone with the deep savor of a unique seasoning—a dish steeped in the wisdom of long years.
"You can taste the passage of time. Truly a precious creation."
When every dish had been judged, the panel clustered together in discussion. A choking tension settled over the plaza.
"Who do you think will win?"
"Geumsudo's dish was the most dazzling."
"No—Chef Cheongyeon's was more beautiful."
But the people of West Lake cheered for Kang Yeon.
"Chef Kang is the best!"
"You saw the heart he put into that kimchi fried rice!"
At last Yun Tae-ho mounted the platform.
"I will now announce the results of the judging."
Everyone held their breath.
"This tournament… has produced a most unusual outcome."
Yun Tae-ho paused for effect.
"Among the contestants, four dishes were so outstanding that we found it impossible to rank one above the others."
The plaza stirred.
"What?"
"Four of them? Does that mean a joint victory?"
Yun Tae-ho continued.
"Geumsudo, Chef Cheongyeon, Baek Mirang, and Kang Yeon. These four dishes all received the highest score."
Cheers and groans erupted together.
"Therefore we have decided to hold a final playoff among these four alone."
Yun Tae-ho unrolled a scroll.
"The theme of the rematch is free cooking! Each of you is to prepare the finest dish you can imagine."
The three chefs turned their eyes on Kang Yeon. They could not ignore the man who had survived using the most ordinary of ingredients.
Geumsudo gave an arrogant laugh.
"Hmph. This time I'll show you real skill."
Chef Cheongyeon smiled with elegant grace.
"I shall do my utmost."
Baek Mirang still wore that inscrutable expression, staring hard at Kang Yeon.
"Mm."
Kang Yeon remained as calm as ever.
"A rematch, is it…"
Muk Hyang-ru stepped up beside him.
"Hey. How about bringing out a mountain of good ingredients this time?"
"Hmm… maybe you're right. Looks like I'll need to make something special."
A short preparation period was granted.
The four chefs made ready each in their own way.
"What are you going to cook?"
Muk Hyang-ru asked, curiosity plain on his face.
"I think I'll try something a little different this time."
Kang Yeon smiled.
The brief preparation window slipped by, yet the central plaza remained packed with an even greater throng eager to witness the final. Sightseers had poured in not only from West Lake but from neighboring regions for this day. Even the forty-six chefs already eliminated stayed put, determined to watch what the remaining four would create.
"At last—the final round."
"Who do you suppose will take the crown?"
Every other station had been cleared away; four cooking counters now stood side by side for the four finalists. In front of each lay the ingredients the chefs had prepared.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Drums thundered, announcing the start of the final contest.
"Now—let the final of the Greatest Culinary Tournament of the Central Plains begin!"