BDSMST -Chapter 73 The Imperial Chef’s Challenge

The news that the Crown Prince had sent someone out of the palace to purchase vegetables from Woniu Village at a high price once again added fuel to the capital’s “green storm.”

If even His Highness the Crown Prince had endorsed it, how could it be fake?

For a time, membership cards for Woniu Village Farm became even more sought-after—nearly impossible to obtain. On the black market, a Gold Membership was even being resold for as much as three hundred taels of silver.

Woniu Village—once an obscure, unknown little hamlet—had completely transformed into a mysterious and coveted place in the eyes of the capital’s residents.

However, where there is praise, there will inevitably be criticism.

Especially when that praise reaches a certain height.

That day, Woniu Village Farm received an uninvited guest.

The visitor was a stout middle-aged man in his forties, surnamed Huang. He wore a low-key yet luxurious brocade robe, and behind him followed two attendants carrying large food boxes.

He introduced himself as a head imperial chef from the palace kitchens.

“Chef Huang?” Jiang Suisui received him in the front hall, a hint of polite confusion on her face. “May I ask what brings Chef Huang here today?”

This Chef Huang worked in the imperial kitchens, personally preparing dishes for the Emperor and the highest-ranking consorts. His culinary skills were said to be extraordinary. In the capital’s culinary world, he was regarded as a towering figure.

Ordinarily, he was proud and aloof—many nobles could not even invite him, let alone command his presence. Yet today he had personally come to this rural estate.

His intentions were likely far from friendly.

Chef Huang forced a smile and clasped his hands. “I wouldn’t dare speak of instruction. It’s simply that recently, both inside and outside the palace, people have been saying that Woniu Village’s vegetables are earthly treasures with divine flavor. I, Huang, have spent half my life by the stove and consider myself somewhat knowledgeable about ingredients. Hearing such talk, I grew curious and came to seek some guidance from Madam Jiang.”

Though his words were polite, his tone carried unmistakable disdain and provocation.

Jiang Suisui understood immediately.

A rival had come to smash her reputation.

The imperial kitchens gathered the finest ingredients and chefs in the realm. They stood at the pinnacle of culinary excellence in this era.

Yet now, vegetables grown on a country estate had overshadowed them. Even the Crown Prince reportedly preferred a simple plate of stir-fried greens over their carefully prepared medicinal dishes.

To someone as proud as Chef Huang, this was nothing short of humiliation.

“I would not dare claim to instruct,” Jiang Suisui replied with a calm smile. “Our estate has merely benefited from good soil and fine seeds, growing nothing more than ordinary vegetables. They hardly deserve the praise of ‘earthly treasures.’”

“Whether they are treasures or not, words alone prove nothing.” Chef Huang clapped his hands.

The two attendants immediately stepped forward and placed two enormous food boxes on the table.

When the lids were lifted, an overwhelming, domineering aroma instantly filled the front hall.

It was a complex fragrance born of countless premium ingredients, refined through intricate cooking methods. The mere scent was enough to make one’s mouth water.

“These are two dishes I prepared today in the imperial kitchen,” Chef Huang said proudly.

“This one—‘Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.’ It uses top-grade abalone from the South Sea, sea cucumber from the northeast, shark fin from Qiantang… eighteen main ingredients and twelve supplementary ones. The broth was simmered for three days and three nights with old hen and Jinhua ham, then slow-cooked over gentle heat for six hours.”

“And this one—‘Boiled Cabbage in Supreme Broth.’ It appears simple, but the broth is made from Xuanwei ham from Yunnan-Guizhou, dried scallops from the Jiaodong Peninsula, specially supplied young chicken from the northern lands… repeatedly clarified to remove oil and impurities. Only after seven refinements does one obtain this crystal-clear yet deeply rich stock. The cabbage uses only the tenderest inner leaf, blanched repeatedly with the supreme broth.”

These were both banquet-level masterpieces. One represented the ultimate in complexity and luxury; the other, the pinnacle of refinement through simplicity.

Chef Huang placed the two dishes there with an obvious intention.

He meant to use the highest standard of human culinary art to compete against Woniu Village’s so-called “divine vegetables.”

“I’ve heard that His Highness the Crown Prince most favors a simple stir-fried vegetable dish from your estate?” Chef Huang’s lips curled in mockery. “I would like to taste it today. Let us see what kind of stir-fried greens can surpass these two humble dishes into which I have poured half a lifetime of effort.”

It was a naked challenge.

Standing behind Jiang Suisui, Chunxing’s face turned pale with anger. This man was bullying them outright!

Yet Jiang Suisui remained as composed as drifting clouds and flowing water.

She glanced at the two steaming, exquisitely plated dishes—works of art in their own right—then nodded at Chef Huang.

“Very well.”

She said only that single word.

Turning to Chunxing, she instructed, “Go to Greenhouse No. 3 and pick the most ordinary cabbage you can find. Remember—just the most ordinary one.”

Though puzzled, Chunxing obeyed at once.

Soon, an utterly unremarkable cabbage—still speckled with soil—was brought in.

Without another word, Jiang Suisui personally carried the cabbage into the small kitchen nearby.

Ziqian and the others, having heard the news, hurried over as well. Standing in the front hall, they watched the scene unfold with nervous anticipation.

“That fat man is way too arrogant! He’s using Buddha Jumps Over the Wall to compete against our stir-fried cabbage? Isn’t that just bullying?” Wei Ziqian fumed indignantly.

“Exactly! Our vegetables taste good, sure—but that’s just because the ingredients are good. How can our cooking compare to an imperial chef’s?” Qian Duoduo sighed anxiously.

Gu Yan said nothing. He simply frowned and looked toward the small kitchen.

Only Gu Xuan held blind faith in his mother.

“My mother won’t lose,” he muttered softly.

In the front hall, Chef Huang leisurely lifted his teacup and sipped. His face bore the confident ease of someone certain of victory.

In his mind, this contest had no suspense from the very beginning.

Ingredients mattered—but culinary skill was what transformed the ordinary into the extraordinary.

He refused to believe that a simple plate of stir-fried cabbage could possibly overturn the heavens.

About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn—

Jiang Suisui emerged from the kitchen carrying a white porcelain plate.

On it was the simplest dish imaginable: stir-fried cabbage.

The cabbage had been sliced into fine, even shreds and flash-fried over fierce heat, retaining its vibrant green color. A mere drizzle of sesame oil glistened on top, along with a light sprinkling of salt.

Nothing more.

Not even minced garlic or bits of meat.

Clean. Pure. Simple to the extreme.

Compared to the exquisitely crafted Buddha Jumps Over the Wall and Boiled Cabbage in Supreme Broth on the table, this dish looked like a village girl in coarse linen standing before two gorgeously dressed noble consorts.

Plain. Humble. Almost laughably overmatched.

When Chef Huang saw it, the mockery at the corner of his lips deepened.

“Please,” Jiang Suisui said, placing the plate at the center of the table and gesturing politely.

Chef Huang set down his teacup, picked up his chopsticks, and—with a faint air of condescension—lifted a bite of cabbage to his mouth.

He had already prepared in his mind the refined yet cutting critique he would deliver for this “ridiculous” dish.

But the moment the cabbage touched his tongue, his expression changed.

That plump face—so full of arrogance and self-assurance—froze in an instant.

His eyes widened sharply.

His mouth parted slightly, and even the motion of chewing stopped.

It did not feel as though he was eating a dish.

It felt as though, on a spring morning, he had stepped into a dew-kissed vegetable field.

The cabbage’s own original sweetness and tenderness—pure and unadorned—burst upon his tongue like an explosion!

It was a flavor no complex seasoning could imitate—something born of soil and sunlight.

It needed no rich broth to elevate it.

It required no mountain delicacies or ocean treasures to embellish it.

It was, in and of itself, the ultimate delicacy.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Chef Huang’s forehead.

In thirty years of cooking, this was the first time he had been struck speechless by a single dish.

He slowly swallowed, then silently picked up a second bite… and a third…

He ate slowly and carefully, as though savoring a rare and priceless treasure.

Before long, the plate of cabbage was empty.

Chef Huang set down his chopsticks and stared at the bare plate. Then he glanced at the two dishes beside it—the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall and Boiled Cabbage in Supreme Broth that he had been so proud of, untouched.

The flush on his face gradually drained to ashen gray.

There was no need to taste his own dishes.

He already knew.

He had lost.

Lost completely.

Lost to the simplest ingredients and the simplest method of cooking.

He rose to his feet without another word. Facing Jiang Suisui—and the empty plate—he bowed deeply. Deeply.

Then he turned, taking with him his two dishes that now seemed dim and lifeless, along with his shattered pride, and left in a daze.