Chapter 22

Listen, listen, listen—

Yes, it must be stir-frying! The secret techniques of the top chefs in Bianliang! A ten-year-old child is displaying such magnificent skills right in front of me. Heaven, could it be that the Bodhisattva has sent the Child of Good Fortune to save me?!

It must be so. The opportunity is fleeting; I must seize it tightly!

The young man clenched his teeth and made up his mind. However, Sanlang was still busy in the kitchen, and he didn't dare to enter or make a sound to disturb him. He could only wait outside, scratching his head and ears anxiously.

One dish after another, all with perfect color, aroma, and taste, was brought out in a steady stream. In no time, the table was full.

"Such incredible speed, truly a divine skill..." The young man was extremely excited. As soon as Sanlang lifted the curtain and came out, he rushed over, his face full of admiration, and shouted, "Little Master, take me as your disciple..."

"I'm almost starving," Sanlang dodged and pulled his younger brother to sit at the table. "Let's eat first. Going to a restaurant and still having to cook ourselves, what kind of situation is this?"

"Let's eat, let's eat." The young man quickly served rice to Sanlang and his brothers and diligently poured soup.

"Sit and eat with us," Erlang felt uncomfortable.

"A disciple has no right to sit in front of the master," the young man refused without hesitation. "Uncle and Uncle, please eat. I'll stand and serve." He was following the rules of an apprentice.

"Uncle, uh..." Erlang swallowed, thinking, I'm still a teenager.

"Uncle, are you calling us?" Xiaoliu tugged at Heiwu's sleeve.

"Eat your food," Wu snarled at him.

"Sit and eat with us," Sanlang couldn't bear to be too strict. "We'll talk about the apprenticeship after the meal."

"As you wish." The young man sat on the edge of the seat at the lower end of the table. He wanted to ask about the names and methods of these various dishes, but the Chen family boys were well-mannered, following the rule of "no talking during meals," so he had to keep his questions to himself.

However, the dishes Sanlang cooked were truly exquisite. The fat young man, who had never eaten stir-fried dishes before, was already drooling and soon forgot all about the master-disciple hierarchy, eating with great enthusiasm. This made the Chen brothers look at him askance.

Fortunately, the table was full of dishes, so the brothers didn't worry about not having enough to eat. Encouraged by the fat young man, the Chen brothers also started eating voraciously. The large hall was filled with the sound of chopsticks clattering and chewing.

Cooking often suppresses one's appetite, and Sanlang quickly finished his meal. He sipped his soup slowly, his gaze fixed on the fat young man, whose mouth was shining from the food.

This was the first time Sanlang had truly showcased his culinary skills. Previously, at home, the stove temperature was too low, the pot too thick, and he couldn't afford to use much oil or salt, and the ingredients were limited, so he could only display about a third of his abilities. This time, he had prepared carefully, ordered a bellows, bought the freshest ingredients and seasonings, and even brought his own iron pot, fearing that the dishes wouldn't be impressive enough to completely convince the young man.

The reason Sanlang went to such lengths to challenge this restaurant was simple: the owner of this restaurant owed the Chen family 30,000 coins!

For the past ten years, the Chen family had been supplying bamboo charcoal to this restaurant. Because of their long-standing relationship, the settlement period had gradually extended from monthly to quarterly. The 30,000 coins were for the bamboo charcoal from last winter to the present. Due to the death of the previous owner and the poor management of the new owner, the payment had been delayed.

When Chen Xiliang came to collect the debt, he saw the sick old mother in bed and a three-year-old child on the floor. He didn't mention the debt and even left 100 coins.

Sanlang was initially angry at Chen Xiliang for being too kind, but after observing the family for a few days, he was moved by the fat young man named Cai Chuanfu. According to the neighbors, this young man with a lucky name was indeed a filial son. For example, his mother had been bedridden for half a year without developing a single bedsore, which is a significant achievement for anyone who has cared for a sick person. If parents treated their children this way, it would be normal, but the reverse is rare—especially in Sanlang's previous life.

Cai Chuanfu had indeed turned over a new leaf and was practicing his culinary skills diligently, hoping to recreate the dishes on the restaurant's menu. Unfortunately, culinary skills cannot be self-taught, especially when you need to run a restaurant and prepare complex dishes.

People pay to enjoy good food, not to be guinea pigs. The Lifu Hotel was naturally deserted, and it was about to go under...

When Sanlang came to his senses, the table was left with only empty plates. The brothers, who had never eaten such delicious food, were holding their stomachs and groaning. Cai Chuanfu, holding his stomach, stood up and asked the Chen brothers to move to another table, served them tea and snacks, and then, holding a cup of tea, bowed deeply to Sanlang, saying, "Master, please take me as your disciple."

Sanlang finally took the tea and sipped it lightly.

"Master, I bow to you... burp." Chuanfu bowed deeply... in the Song Dynasty, such a bow was equivalent to kneeling in later generations. However, he had eaten too much, and the sudden bow caused him to burp loudly, making the brothers laugh.

"Stand up and speak," Sanlang said. Chuanfu stood up awkwardly and asked, "Little Master, when will you teach me culinary skills?"

"Chinese culinary arts are profound; rushing won't help." Sanlang looked at Erlang.

Erlang then took out the IOU and handed it to Chuanfu. "Look at this first."

"Ah..." Chuanfu blushed and scratched his head. "So you are the creditors. No wonder..." He looked embarrassed and said, "Please give me a few more days. I will have the money in a few days..."

"If we were just here to collect the debt, why would we go through all this trouble?" Erlang said, following Sanlang's instructions. "To be honest, we saw that you are in trouble and want to help you get through this difficult time."

"Good people..." Chuanfu's nose tingled, almost shedding tears. "Chen Daguoren is a good person, and his son... is also a good person." He bowed repeatedly. "Thank you, Uncle and Master, for your kindness. I will learn culinary skills well and not disappoint you."

"You lack more than just culinary skills," Sanlang said bluntly. "Even if your culinary skills are excellent, if you don't understand how to run a restaurant, you'll be nothing more than a good cook."

"Yes, I know nothing," Chuanfu said shamefully. "I used to just wander around the streets, and now I deeply regret it." He could no longer see Sanlang as a child and treated him as a master.

"A prodigal son's return is worth more than gold," Sanlang said with an air of authority. "As long as you learn well from me, you can open a restaurant not just in this small place, but even in Chengdu or Bianliang."

If he had said this before, Chuanfu would have dismissed it, but after seeing Sanlang's top-notch culinary skills, he believed Sanlang could stand in the capital. Chuanfu's face turned red with excitement. "I will learn well from Master!"

He then continued the interrupted conversation. "To be honest, I have already sold the restaurant, and I will pay back the debt to Master first!"

"What, you sold the restaurant?" Sanlang finally couldn't maintain his composure and asked, "When did you sell it? To whom?"

"To Boss Lu in the east of the city. He has wanted to buy our place for a long time, but I didn't agree because it was my father's business, and I thought his offer was too low," Chuanfu sighed. "But a few days ago, Master and other creditors came to collect the debt, and I couldn't pay, so I had to agree..."

"How much did you sell it for?"

"Eighty guan."

"Such a large restaurant, you sold it for eighty guan?!" Sanlang laughed in anger. "The building alone is worth more than that." Think about it, selling a two-story restaurant in a bustling area for 80,000 coins, even in a small town, is a deal that would make one bleed.

"I know, but they saw my difficulties and deliberately lowered the price. What could I do?" Chuanfu was almost in tears.

"Selling the restaurant is easy, but to reopen it will cost you many times more." Sanlang sighed. "Have you completed the transaction yet?"

"Not yet," Chuanfu said. "We only signed a preliminary contract."

"Can you back out?"

"Yes," Chuanfu said. "Before registering the transfer with the government, if I return double the deposit, I can terminate the sale."

"How much is the deposit?"

"Eight guan."

"I have four guan. Can you come up with another four guan?"

"Yes..." Chuanfu said softly. "I sold the salted meat my father made the day before yesterday."

"Good! Go this afternoon and cancel the contract." Sanlang decided. "Learn from me for a month, and you'll have no problem making money from the restaurant!"

"Yes." Since he had become a disciple, he would naturally follow his master's instructions until he graduated. But unlike other apprentices who worked for free, Sanlang not only didn't make him work but also gave him money. Chuanfu felt very grateful and decided, "Uncle and Master, I have no way to repay your kindness, so I will give you half of the restaurant. Please accept it!"

After all the twists and turns, they finally got to the point. Erlang felt uncomfortable, thinking it was taking advantage of someone in distress.

The two of them pushed and yielded, but Sanlang couldn't stand it and interrupted them. "Brother, there's no need for this. We're not doing charity. My culinary skills and business ideas are capital. He can earn money by learning from me, and it's reasonable for us to get a share of the profits."

"Exactly, exactly." Chuanfu nodded. "The restaurant would have to give a 20% share to a head chef. My master, a culinary god, giving half is not too much."

"It's not necessary to give half. I won't be involved in the management, just teaching you and giving advice. A 70-30 split is enough. You get 70%, I get 30%, and the debt will be forgiven. The restaurant will be all yours, and we'll just take a share."

"Is this too generous to me?" Chuanfu said, embarrassed.

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The next update will definitely be at 8 PM. Sob, I didn't make the list. Please recommend and collect...