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On July 18th, Xia Mushi’s body was cremated and buried. He had chosen his own public cemetery, and even made arrangements with the funeral home beforehand. He had long since sorted out all matters for before and after his death, simply waiting for Taifeng Building to open successfully before calmly facing his end.

Zhang Guanghang invited Jiang Feng, Jiang Weiguo, Jiang Weiming, and Jiang Shoucheng—who had only met Xia Mushi once-to attend the funeral, which was to be held at the funeral home Xia Mushi had arranged prior to his death.

This was Xia Mushi’s final stop in the world of the living-hereafter, he would turn to dust and rest eternally underground.

Since both the old gentlemen, Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang, were not around, everyone discussed and decided to close the restaurant for a day, as business wouldn’t suffer from a single day’s closure.

Thus, the ordinary folk of Beiping City who planned to dine out on July 18th were surprised to find that Taifeng Building, having just opened for a few days, had suddenly suspended operations for rest, as had Eight-treasure House, Tongde House, Yonghe House, Ruyi House, and Shunhe Building, for reasons unknown to them. And when they considered going to other well-established Chinese restaurants, they were astonished to discover that most of those establishments were also taking a day off.

The reason for the restaurants’ closures was the same-they were paying their respects at the funeral of a senior figure from the culinary community, making it impossible to continue normal operations.

Jiang Feng and the two senior gentlemen went to the funeral home with wreaths and elegiac couplets. Jiang Shoucheng couldn’t attend due to his hospital shift. Jiang Feng wore the same dark, solemn suit he wore to Li Mingyi’s funeral and saw Zhang Guanghang standing at the entrance of the funeral home from a distance.

Zhang Guanghang was dressed in a black suit with a white flower pinned to his chest. Upon seeing them, he walked over.

”I’ll take you in,” Zhang Guanghang said, looking somewhat tired and dispirited, clearly having had very little sleep these past few days.

There were funeral home staff at the entrance handing out white flowers, which Jiang Feng and his companions each took before heading inside.

To Jiang Feng’s surprise, quite a number of people had turned up-the spacious hall was nearly full, mostly with middle-aged folks, some elderly, along with a few faces familiar to Jiang Feng. He might have been the youngest person there.

Jiang Feng noticed there were a few empty seats beside Tong Deyan and led the two senior gentlemen over to him.

“Mr. Tong,” Jiang Feng greeted Tong Deyan.

Tong Deyan had been one of Jiang Feng’s judges, and although not in the manner of a teacher leading a student in other variety shows, it wasn’t wrong for Jiang Feng to call him “teacher.”

Tong Deyan wasn’t accustomed to being called “teacher;” it felt awkward, but since Jiang Feng was a junior he respected, and who had never spoken ill of him or offended him, Tong could only nod awkwardly in response.

Jiang Feng looked around and roughly estimated the number of people who had come to Xia Mushi’s funeral—nearly a hundred.

This was an astoundingly large number, especially considering that over the years, Xia Mushi had managed to offend almost every peer he could, and even created occasions to do so with those beyond his immediate circle. Jiang Feng had thought that most of the attendees would be customers, but from the conversations he overheard on his way in, it seemed that the vast majority were chefs rather than patrons.

After sitting quietly for about fifteen minutes, the funeral began.

Mournful music played.

Everyone stood solemnly, paying their respects and offering wreaths.

Eulogies were read.

Final farewells were made to the body.

The mortuary makeup artist was skilled, as Xia Mushi, a man who was always serious, gloomy, and seldom seen smiling, wouldn’t normally be associated with gentle kindness in people’s memories.

But when Jiang Feng saw Xia Mushi’s body, he thought of him as just an ordinary man nearing a hundred years old-kind, affable, like the always- smiling elderly characters on TV.

The only difference was that this kindly Xia Mushi was lying inside a coffin.

As soon as the memorial service ended, Xia Mushi’s body would be taken for cremation.

The nearly one-thousand-degree heat would consume everything-hair, skin, fat, bones-all would be turned to ash and become cremains, confined to a small urn.

His past, his memories, his emotions, his loves and hatreds would also be sealed within this small urn.

This urn held the last earthly remains of Xia Mushi.

The funeral was over, but the attendees did not leave. Jiang Feng saw Xu Cheng and prepared to greet him and also inform him that the reservation for the clay pot Hua Diao chicken at Taifeng had to be postponed by a day due to the closure.

Wang Xiulian, Ji Yue, and Fan Mei would each make phone calls to notify, but Jiang Feng felt it was better to say it in person since he had seen Xu Cheng.

As a public figure, Xu Cheng, known in both the business and culinary worlds, was surrounded by many people engaging in polite small talk, and Jiang Feng couldn’t squeeze through. He decided to wait on the side instead.

“Mr. Xu, I didn’t expect you to attend Sir Xia’s funeral, Ling Guangzhao, as the young owner of the Eight-treasure House and both a business and culinary figure, had led an almost entirely smooth and successful life except for the setback with Tong Deyan.

Ling Guangzhao was adept in social situations, able to strike up a conversation with almost anyone except Tong Deyan. Seeing Xu Cheng, he immediately came over to greet him and took the opportunity to invite him to try the new dishes prepared by their chefs at the Eight-treasure House.

Xu Cheng declined with a smile and shook his head inwardly.

Ling Guangzhao knew how to socialize and to conduct business but not the restaurant business. Since the retirement of the two master chefs from the Eight-treasure House, it had been removed from Xu Cheng’s dining list. Jiang Feng had been waiting to join the conversation but couldn’t find an opportunity, until Xu Cheng saw him and took the initiative to go over. “I didn’t expect both of the Old Master Jiangs to come as well,” Xu Cheng said.

“My grandfather and Granduncle Weiming knew Sir Xia Mushi well; we came here today to see him off on his final journey,” Jiang Feng said, feeling a bit uneasy as Ling Guangzhao stared at him intently.

Xu Cheng suddenly remembered the connection between Sir Xia Mushi and the Taifeng Building and couldn’t help but laugh, “Indeed, I forgot about that, they really were old acquaintances.”

“That’s right, Mr. Xu, since Taifeng Building is temporarily closed today, the table you reserved will have to be pushed back by one day, would that be convenient for you?” Jiang Feng said.

“That’s not a problem,” Xu Cheng said.

After speaking, Jiang Feng was about to leave when Ling Guangzhao, who had been waiting for his chance, stopped him.

Ling Guangzhao smiled radiantly, acting like an old and close friend of Jiang Feng’s, handing over a business card even before speaking.

Jiang Feng took the card and saw, wow, it was actually the owner of the Eight-treasure House.

The owner of the contestant Zhao Shan from the Good Taste Cooking Competition, who had been miserably dissed by Tong Deyan.

“Mr. Jiang Feng, right? I’m Ling Guangzhao, the current person in charge of the Eight-treasure House,” Ling Guangzhao’s ability to call out Jiang Feng’s name already surprised him greatly.

“Hello,” Jiang Feng had no idea why Ling Guangzhao was being so enthusiastic towards him.

“I was fortunate to taste the Sweet and Sour Yam made by Mr. Jiang Feng on the opening day of Taifeng Building. It was truly a heavenly creation, and the Sweet and Sour Yam made by Mr. Jiang Feng is the best and most exquisite I’ve ever had in my life. When I heard about Mr. Jiang Feng’s age a couple of days ago, I could hardly believe he was so young. Seeing you today, you are indeed a rising star!” Ling Guangzhao praised him earnestly.

Jiang Feng:…

He really should have Ji Yue and Ling Guangzhao here learn what to hit the nail on the head with flattery.

This is what you call hitting the nail on the head!

“You… exaggerate, you exaggerate, that’s the only dish that I do quite well,” Jiang Feng was very cautious, not sure what Ling Guangzhao was getting at with all the flattery.

“Mr. Jiang Feng is too modest. I was planning to visit you in a couple of days but didn’t expect to meet you today, what a coincidence!” Ling Guangzhao said with a full smile.

“May I ask why you’re looking for me?” Jiang Feng inquired tentatively, feeling as though he was in a corporate drama, exchanging pleasantries with a competitor.

Jiang Feng was actually the owner of Taifeng Building; Ling Guangzhao was the owner of the Eight-treasure House, and in reality, they were competitors.

“It’s like this, I wonder if Mr. Jiang Feng has any intentions of changing jobs?” Ling Guangzhao said confidently.

“Ah?” Jiang Feng was stunned.

“Our Eight-treasure House always seeks talents eagerly, plus we’re a renowned spot in Beiping City with a group of excellent master chefs. Should you be willing to come, I can give you the best salary and benefits,” he proclaimed.

“Huh?”

“Mr. Jiang Feng, you can think it over. Your Taifeng Building may have a good location but it’s a new establishment. When it comes to running a restaurant in Beiping, heritage is valuable, and our Eight-treasure House is definitely an excellent choice!” Having said that, and not to disturb Jiang Feng’s thoughts, Ling Guangzhao left with a smile.

Jiang Feng:…

???

What… was that all about?

Headhunting someone, right up to the owner???