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In the end, Wang Hao still managed to scrounge up two spoonfuls of soup.

There was no negotiating the loaches, only four small ones, so soft and mushy you couldn’t tell how long Wu Minqi had stewed them. Without loaches, though, Jiang Feng could still afford to share some jujubes and goji berries with him.

After happily savoring the two spoonfuls of soup, smacking his lips, he spat out the date pits and exclaimed, “Sister-in-law’s cooking skills are truly impeccable—fits the hall as well as the kitchen. I should learn how to cook this soup tomorrow and make it for my Zhenzhen.”

Jiang Feng: Hah, bootlicker.

It was time to remind Mr. Jiang Jiankang to keep a close eye on the local market for suitable loaches soon, as loach stewed tofu needed to be scheduled.

The two joked and chatted about all sorts of things, causing a ruckus for a while. Seeing that it was indeed getting late, they cleaned the thermal flask and left it on the table. Jiang Feng went to the bathroom to wash up, while Wang Hao climbed into bed to continue chatting with Zhenzhen.

A night of sweet dreams.

The next day was the day of the finals.

Jiang Feng carried a blue thermal flask to the shop, making last-minute adjustments and cooked a pot of porridge—standard level, consistently approaching perfection, barely satisfactory.

Wu Minqi left with him. When she went to the shop to look for him, she saw Jiang Feng tasting the preserved egg and lean pork congee and asked, “How is it?”

“Just the usual level, probably can’t be better.” Always unable to achieve the same standard as eight-treasure porridge, Jiang Feng felt somewhat disappointed.

But a fortuitous coincidence like the one with osmanthus sugar where the ingredients matched so perfectly is something hard to come by.

“Stop overthinking it, let’s go,” Wu Minqi said with a smile.

The two headed towards the provincial station.

The ratings for the live broadcasts of the past few contests weren’t high among concurrent shows, only picking up slightly during Jiang Feng’s confession last time, and even then, it was just a slight increase, not even enough to trend on Weibo.

Cooking competitions were too lengthy for most audiences accustomed to fast- paced variety shows, who, despite knowing the outcome, preferred to watch the edited “Good Taste Chef King Contest.”

If it weren’t for Han Guishan, the moneybags patron with real wealth, and Xu Cheng, the even wealthier and more influential behind-the-scenes patron, the live broadcast would probably have been cut during the top eight.

But today was different, today was the final, and it was a direct PK between four contestants. The vast majority of the audience, who had only watched variety shows or heard of the names, were willing to take a look to see what the finals were really about?

The fierce and thrilling competition between the two dark horses vying for the championship was indeed nerve-racking!

Zhang Guanghang, the national heartthrob, faced his Waterloo and could only compete for third place, a result that many male compatriots enjoyed watching!

The most excited person had to be the hostess; she had misunderstood the competition format last time, thinking that once Zhang Guanghang was eliminated, she wouldn’t see him again, only to be able to watch him for another two hours. For today’s match, she specially chose a dress a size smaller than her usual, starved herself for the day, held her stomach in throughout, all to showcase a svelte waistline that didn’t exist to everyone else.

Jiang Feng and the others waited backstage; they had inspected the ingredients, which were as usual of good quality. Nothing was wrong with the ingredients— if a dish had issues, it would be a reflection of the chef’s skills.

If someone unfortunately made a mistake in today’s competition, that would truly be an embarrassment in front of the entire country.

Jiang Feng’s old issue of getting nervous before a competition struck again; looking around at the others, Wu Minqi was expressionless, Zhang Guanghang was expressionless, Gu Li was expressionless.

“Ah.” Jiang Feng sighed deeply, truly envying these poker-faced people.

Seated on the sofa, holding onto the lukewarm tap water in his hands, he felt restless, sensing as if there was a ticking clock in his heart, “tick-tock-tick- tock-tick-tock,” incessantly moving, each “tick-tock” bringing him a step closer to the gallows.

“Tick-tock- tick-tock-tick-tock.”

Jiang Feng’s mind was filled with the “tick-tock” of that non-existent clock.

Wu Minqi’s left hand covered Jiang Feng’s right hand, tookhis hand and consoled him, “You don’t need to be nervous. Everyone has seen your skill, whether you win or lose, Grandpa Jiang won’t blame you.”

Zhang Guanghang and Gu Li quietly turned their heads away, feeling as if there was a slight sparkle about them.

“Contestants, the competition will start in 15 minutes, and I believe everyone is well-acquainted with the rules by now. You may all take the stage, where your name tags are attached to the cooking stations. Please go up and start to prepare in advance—the competition will begin as soon as it strikes eight. The staff miss is wearing an all-embracing 365-degree smile, “If there are any concerns now, please voice them, and we will do our best to accommodate your requirements.”

“Good luck,” Wu Minqi let go of Jiang Feng’s hand, and they walked toward the stage together.

Today’s lights seemed particularly dazzling.

The assistant director was ready for action below the stage, as if preparing for a fierce battle.

The cameraman’s expression suggested he probably thought the assistant director was a fool.

Jiang Feng noticed that the first row of the audience was occupied by the other 28 contestants who had been eliminated, including Ji Xue from Guangdong Province, who had already returned home. She sat quietly below the stage in her old washed-out white jeans.

“Go for it, boss,” Ji Xue mouthed to Jiang Feng and then looked at Wu Minqi, “Good luck, boss’s wife.”

Wu Minqi’s cheeks flushed imperceptibly.

Chu Peng sat in the first row, beaming with the look of a successful person. His snack bar should now be considered the number one popular store in Alan City, with real-life cases of customers from the news reports queuing for n hours, a non-stop stream of patrons, and tourists from other provinces willing to line up for a whole day just to taste the food.

Just yesterday, Ji Yue gossiped with Jiang Feng that the average wait time for Chu Peng’s snackbar’s stuffed crepes was three hours. The price had gone up from four yuan to five yuan each, and they hadn’t been swayed by quick profits to open abranch store, remaining down-to-earth as a small family business.

It was the students from the central school, led by Zhang Xi, who complained because they simply couldn’t outwait those patrons willing to queue for hours. It looked like they wouldn’t get to eat the stuffed crepes at least until April.

At eight o’clock sharp, the competition started on time.

All contestants got moving and tuned out the host’s blather, with the female host wearing a dress one size too small, sucking in her stomach as she spoke with a strong diaphragm, her voice crisp and sweet.

“To all the audience here and those watching on TV, welcome to the finale of the Good Taste Chef King Contest. Today, Jiang Feng, Gu Li, Zhang Guanghang, and Wu Minqi, four contestants, will compete on the same stage to determine the top three of this culinary competition. The champion will emerge between Jiang Feng and Gu Li, while the third place will be decided between Zhang Guanghang and Wu Minqi. Now, all four contestants have started their dish preparations.”

“The theme of this competition is ‘Original Intention,’ with Gu Li’s entry being golden-threaded siu mai, Jiang Feng’s entry being preserved egg and lean pork porridge, Zhang Guanghang’s entry being taohuafan, and Wu Minqi’s entry being ants climbing a tree. Let’s look forward to the performance of the four contestants and anticipate what surprises they will bring us.”

The host walked off the stage from the side.

“Preserved egg and lean pork porridge? The lad is Cooking Porridge again,” Xu Cheng laughed, with a surge of expectation.

“Of course he’d choose Cooking Porridge since he’s good at it. It’s actually Mr. Xu’s topic that poses a problem; we might have to ask why they made this dish before we can judge,” Pei Shenghua smiled.

“What’s there to ask? Whether it’s original intention or not, won’t we know with just one taste?” Xu Cheng remarked.

“Does that taohua fan need a sauce to be poured on when it’s served later?” Han Guishan had also done quite a bit of homework and preparation for today’s competition. The moment he saw the menu passed up from below, he decided not to eat anything before the competition.

You’ve got to be kidding, last time he missed out on two bowls of eight­treasure porridge and regretted it for days. He absolutely couldn’t miss out on the preserved egg and lean pork porridge today!

Preserved egg and lean pork porridge with golden-threaded siu mai—what a perfect meal combination; both contestants indeed are considerate.

“Yes, a sauce will be poured over it. It’s a crispy rice dish, and pouring the sauce is when the skill really shows,” Pei Shenghua said and suddenly remembered something,” I recall this dish was something Old Sir Xia used many years ago specifically to impress foreign guests.”

“That’s the one, a dish bold enough to charge over a hundred yuan more than a decade ago. Only his private restaurant had the gall to set such a price, specially designed to impress foreign guests,” Tong Deyan commented.

“It’s not really swindling though, as it’s all about willing buyer, willing seller. In all of Beiping, he was the one who made it the best,” Xu Cheng gave a fair assessment, “let’s see how much he has learned.”

On the stage, Zhang Guanghang was sprinkling cornstarch over rice, mixing it into granules.

This dish represented his original intention, his original sentiment towards Chinese cuisine.