Starting from a Bankrupt Sichuan Cuisine Restaurant

He picked up a slice of Twice-Cooked Pork with a garlic sprout rolled inside. The meat quivered as he lifted it, its oily surface shimmering with the movement—a sign of perfect execution that connoisseurs revered.

Achieving this effect meant the Fire Control for the Twice-Cooked Pork was perfect.

The cut of meat was excellent, too—a proper hind leg cut.

He wouldn’t even bother trying it when other restaurants used pork belly instead.

When he took a bite, the skin was fragrant and chewy, the fat melted instantly, and the lean meat was tender with just a slight springiness. The texture was superb!

The garlic sprout tucked inside added a fresh crunch, cutting through the richness.

A single bite was rich without being greasy, fragrant without being overwhelming.

Twice-Cooked Pork fried in a large wok over an earthen stove always had a richer aroma.

"So, brother-in-law, what do you think of the Twice-Cooked Pork?" Zhao Dong asked, looking at Huang He expectantly.

"It’s incredible. No worse than the Twice-Cooked Pork at Rongcheng Restaurant." Huang He nodded in approval before letting out a long sigh. He pointed at Zhao Dong in exasperation. "You! You deliberately set this trap for me, didn’t you!"

’Not only did Zhang Fei leave, but now I’ve lost two bottles of good wine on top of it!’

He was fuming.

Twice-Cooked Pork is a common, homestyle dish found in most Sichuan Cuisine restaurants.

But perfecting such a common dish is what truly showcases a chef’s skill.

"This minced beef is so fragrant! It’s perfect with rice!" Huang Ying exclaimed, having made a new discovery. She first spooned some into Mrs. Xiang’s bowl. "Grandma, you have to try it."

"Yingying, you should eat less rice and more of the other dishes," Zhao Shulan said, watching her with a worried gaze.

Mrs. Xiang placed a slice of Twice-Cooked Pork in Huang Ying’s bowl and chuckled. "Go on and eat! People are iron and food is steel; you’ll be starving if you miss a single meal! A good appetite is a blessing! Don’t listen to your mother’s nonsense."

Cradling her bowl, Huang Ying scooted closer to Mrs. Xiang and shot a triumphant little smile at Zhao Shulan.

Zhao Shulan laughed in exasperation. ’I’ll deal with you when we get home.’

It was all Huang He’s fault for spoiling her. He gave her all sorts of tasty treats every day, with an unlimited supply of candy and chocolate. Her routine was just eating and sleeping. Her purse was never without snacks.

Over the past three years, her weight had skyrocketed. She went from a chubby girl of around 130 pounds to a young woman weighing nearly 200.

As her mother, Zhao Shulan was worried sick. Her daughter was eighteen, an age when people started thinking about marriage, but her size had already scared off several potential suitors.

Besides, their doctor had said that being so overweight was unhealthy. She now got winded after just a few steps and could only ride her bike at a snail’s pace, needing frequent rests. She had none of the energy or stamina a young person should have.

Zhao Shulan wasn’t hoping for her to become rail-thin; she’d be happy if Huang Ying could just get back down to 130 pounds. Being a little chubby was perfectly fine, as long as she could run and jump around without it interfering with her daily life.

"You need to eat more!" Zhao Shulan snapped, placing a piece of meat in Huang Bing’s bowl. She looked at her son—thin as a rail, pale, with dark circles under his eyes. "You’re smoking, drinking, and staying up all night, but you won’t touch a single bite of rice or meat!"

Her two children were polar opposites. One ate everything in sight, the other ate practically nothing.

He was nothing but skin and bones. At five-foot-nine, he weighed less than 110 pounds.

Huang He always said she’d spoiled their son rotten. Lately, she’d been considering cutting off his allowance, but she was afraid that if he had no money, he’d get into trouble or fall in with a bad crowd.

"Okay, okay. I’ll have an extra bowl of rice today. I haven’t had food this good in ages," Huang Bing said, nodding as he added another spoonful of the minced beef to his bowl.

’So that’s it,’ he realized. ’It’s not that I don’t like to eat, I just don’t like eating at home.’

’I love eating delicious food from restaurants!’

Next, the Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver and the Huo Xiang Carp arrived.

Huang He scooped a large helping of rice into his bowl. These dishes were just too appetizing; they practically demanded to be eaten with rice to be fully enjoyed.

"Brother-in-law, try this Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver. This dish is a real test of a chef’s ability," Zhao Dong urged.

"Spicy Stir-fried Pork Liver was Master Xiao’s signature dish, wasn’t it? I’ve had it a couple of times. But when you talk about the best stir-fried pork liver, you have to mention Master Kong Huafeng. His version was unbelievably fragrant, spicy, crisp, and tender. It’s a shame Master Kong passed away; we’ll never get to taste liver like that again." Huang He’s voice was tinged with nostalgia. He studied the dish in front of them and nodded. "The color is spot on, and there’s no excess liquid in the pan. His master’s teachings were clearly passed down well."

With that, he picked up a piece of liver and popped it into his mouth. As he savored it, his eyes slowly lit up.

The liver was still scalding hot from the wok, but that breath of the wok—the *wok hei*—was essential to the dish.

Numbing, spicy, savory, and fragrant. It was smooth, tender, and crisp. The spicy flavor detonated on his taste buds. This stir-fried pork liver was incredible!

Huang He fell silent again. He ate two more pieces of liver, shoveled down a few mouthfuls of rice, and then looked up at Zhao Dong, his eyes sharp with realization. "How old did you say this Zhou Yan is?"

"Twenty," Zhao Dong replied.

"He’s making stir-fried pork liver at twenty that’s on par with his grandmaster’s." Huang He swallowed hard.

"And this Huo Xiang Carp... it’s no worse than what Grandmaster Kong used to make," Zhao Shulan added from the side, putting down her chopsticks. Her face was also a picture of utter shock.

’If what Zhao Dong said is true, what kind of genius is this kid?’

"See? I told you. His cooking is every bit as good as Li the Third’s," Zhao Dong said with a proud, gloating smile.

"Do you know him well? I want to hire him for the Feiyan Restaurant. Think you can make it happen?" Huang He leaned in and whispered, "If you can pull this off, there’s a case of Moutai in it for you!"

Zhao Dong’s eyes lit up at the mention of Moutai, but he quickly shook his head. "This restaurant of Zhou Yan’s is doing so well. I doubt he’d be willing to leave."

"You never know until you ask. The Feiyan Restaurant is a century-old establishment with excellent prospects for growth. You just make the introduction. I’ll handle the negotiations," Huang He said, brimming with confidence.