Chapter 4

Su Le never expected that this old beggar would be so picky. He took a bite of the stir-fried pork and praised himself, "Not bad, with my skills, I should at least be a mid-level chef."

The old beggar sneered, "It's easy to talk when you're not the one who has to do the work. You're just a half-baked cook, not even up to the level of a kitchen helper. In this stir-fried pork, you didn't add any oil, probably because you were afraid of using too much. So you didn't dare to add oil, and instead, you directly fried the sliced pork in the pan, relying on the heat of the iron pan to extract the fat from the pork. This way, the oil isn't heavy, but the meat is dry and all the moisture is gone. The fat has changed in the repeated frying, making it hard to chew and leaving no trace of the tender and fragrant texture that stir-fried pork should have. Failure!"

Su Le initially thought the old beggar was being too picky, but after hearing his critique, he suddenly looked at the old beggar with new respect. From the old beggar's comments, it was clear that this old man was definitely a food connoisseur!

The old beggar then picked up a piece of mushroom and vegetable heart. He took a bite of the mushroom and frowned, but still managed to swallow it. Then he took a bite of the vegetable heart and spat it out: "The mushrooms are not fresh; they are rehydrated. They were already of poor quality before drying, and after drying, their quality dropped even further. However, the texture is still acceptable. The combination of the vegetable heart and mushrooms is not bad, but the cooking time was not well controlled. The vegetable heart was overcooked, and most of the moisture has evaporated, making it soft and mushy, losing its crisp texture. Failure! Even worse, you didn't even wash the vegetable heart properly; it still has mud on it! Cooking is not just about frying and stir-frying. A chef who can't even wash vegetables properly, how can he cook well? Failure!"

Su Le said, "Old man, you seem to be quite an expert. Why don't you try this fish?"

The old beggar glanced at the garlic-braised carp and had no desire to pick up his chopsticks: "To cook garlic-braised fish like this, don't you feel ashamed? You even have the nerve to ask me to taste it. You have a thick face, don't you? Although this dish is simple, it requires careful handling. Ignoring the color, aroma, and taste, did you kill this fish?"

Su Le nodded.

The old beggar said, "Do you know how to scale, remove the gills, take out the innards, and remove the fish's bloodline, but why didn't you remove the black membrane inside the fish's belly?"

"Ah..." Su Le had overlooked this important step.

The old beggar said, "If I had paid for this fish, I would have thrown the plate at your head. Seeing that black membrane, I've lost my appetite. You want me to taste it? Taste what? Are you trying to test my stomach?"

Although the old beggar's words were crude, Su Le, who was used to his mother's coarse language, didn't feel offended. Instead, he felt a sense of familiarity. Su Le said, "Old man, which dish on this table is acceptable?"

The old beggar snorted, "None of them! But since you're sincere, I'll make an exception and eat a little. One must have a heart of love. Consider it my good deed, giving you some encouragement. Boy, can you pour me a glass of wine?"

Su Le got up, picked up the bottle of Mianzhu Daqu, and poured a glass for the old beggar. Although he had been criticized harshly, Su Le didn't feel discouraged. He knew he had met a true expert today.

The old beggar raised the glass to his lips and seemed to remember something: "Boy, do you drink?"

Su Le smiled.

"Stop smiling, how can you just smile? I'm asking you a question."

Su Le smiled and said, "Life is all about being happy, isn't it? You've lived so long, do you know what makes you happiest?" Su Le took a glass, grabbed the bottle of Mianzhu, and poured himself a glass.

The old beggar said, "Oh, you're testing me now? I don't have many happy things, I want to laugh but can't."

Su Le said, "The poorer, the happier. According to this, you should be happier than me."

The old beggar took a sip of wine, thought for a moment, and laughed, "That's true. I've lived over seventy years and never realized this." He looked at Su Le, "Why aren't you eating? Do you think I'm too dirty to eat with me?"

Su Le said, "Don't think too much. You don't look like a beggar. When I first saw you, I thought you were a high-ranking official in disguise."

The old beggar put down his glass, "You're sweet-talking me. I'm just an old beggar. Beggars don't have to wear dirty clothes. There are two types of beggars: the dirty ones and the clean ones."

Su Le smiled, "You're a clean one, from the Beggar Sect!"

The old beggar laughed, "Not really!"

Su Le said, "Yes, yes, what rank are you? Do you know the Beggar Sect's techniques like the Staff of the Beggar and the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms?"

The old beggar suddenly turned serious, "Are you mocking me? Whether I know them or not, what's it to you?"

Su Le's expression turned awkward. How could the old beggar turn serious so quickly? But he still smiled, "Just a joke, I was just joking."

The old beggar said, "I'm old, and you're just a kid. If you were my grandson, I would beat your butt with the Staff of the Beggar." He laughed, "What's your name?"

"Su Le!"

"Su Le! Do you know someone named Su Sanjie on Chunfeng Street?"

Su Le nodded, "That's my mom." He immediately regretted it. He had never seen his mother have any friends, only endless creditors. What if this old beggar was one of them?

The worst-case scenario did happen. The old beggar pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Su Le.

Su Le took the IOU and saw, "I owe the old beggar a bowl of egg fried rice." There was no date, but it had his mother's signature, Su Sanjie.

Before seeing the IOU, Su Le was anxious, but after seeing it, he felt relieved. It was just a bowl of egg fried rice. The IOU was covered in oil stains, but the handwriting and signature were clearly his mother's.

Su Le said, "My mom is out of town and won't be back for a while." Seeing it was just a bowl of egg fried rice, Su Le felt relieved.

The old beggar said, "No problem, a mother's debt is a child's responsibility. She's gone, but you're still here. You can pay for her."

Su Le said, "There are so many dishes here. You can eat and take whatever you want. It should be enough to cover the bowl of egg fried rice she owes you."

The old beggar was quite persistent. He shook his head, "Beggars have their pride. She owes me egg fried rice, so you must give me egg fried rice. Don't try to fool me with something else."

Su Le said, "Alright, old man, I'll cook you a bowl of egg fried rice." He had cooked countless bowls of egg fried rice since he was a child, and it was no challenge for him.

The old beggar sneered, "With your skills, you think you can cook egg fried rice for me? Egg fried rice is simple but tests a chef's basic skills. It must be cooked with leftover rice, but the rice in your pot is freshly steamed. Do you expect me to wait until tomorrow? You don't even know the basics. I won't collect the debt today, but I'll take the interest. Cook me some eggs!"

Su Le was delighted. The first dish he learned to cook was scrambled eggs, and he made it almost every day. It was no problem for him. He took a sip of wine and went to the kitchen.

Su Le tied on an apron, and the old beggar followed him in, standing at the door to watch.

Su Le cracked three eggs into a bowl and started stirring with chopsticks. He stirred quickly, creating a golden whirlpool in the bowl. The chopsticks were held at a 15-degree angle, which helped to form the egg mixture into strands. The egg mixture and the bowl seemed to come alive, flowing continuously. The wok was already dry, with a layer of oil coating the bottom. The egg mixture had a golden, glossy appearance and a very thick texture.

Su Le continued to stir, adding an appropriate amount of salad oil to the wok. When the oil started to bubble, he poured the egg mixture into the wok. The egg mixture flowed like a golden ribbon, swirling and rolling in the wok like a river. Green and white scallions and fine, white salt were added to the wok, blending with the golden, bubbling egg mixture. Su Le's wrist moved slightly, and the egg mixture, now solidified, rolled in the wok. When the oil had thoroughly coated the surface of the eggs, Su Le flipped the eggs into a prepared plate. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of the golden, translucent scrambled eggs, which were steaming and trembling, showing their exceptional tenderness. The scallions sprinkled on top added a perfect touch of color, making the dish look very appetizing.

The old beggar picked up a piece of scrambled egg and put it in his mouth. It was fragrant, tender, and smooth, with a fine texture. The old beggar's frown finally relaxed.

Seeing the old beggar's expression, Su Le felt relieved. But unexpectedly, the old beggar frowned again and spat out the egg. He sighed, "Is this scrambled eggs or dog shit? Did you clean the wok? Did you heat the wok with oil before adding the eggs? Throughout the process, you never adjusted the heat. The control of the wok could have compensated for your lack of heat control, but you only used the wok to flip the eggs. The eggs were not beaten evenly. Even a simple dish like scrambled eggs requires skill. When beating the eggs, you need to use wrist strength and balance. The chopsticks should move in a continuous, rhythmic manner, ensuring that the egg mixture is thoroughly mixed. You didn't even do the basic steps properly. No matter how well you follow the procedure, you will still fail. I can't understand how you can even run a restaurant with your level of skill. Your cooking is so bad that even dogs wouldn't eat it!"

Thank you, Gao Shanyang, for your generous support, making you the 5th leader of the Food and Color Alliance. Applause and flowers to celebrate! Thank you to all the readers who have supported and rewarded the octopus!

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