The early morning sunlight, like scattered gold dust, slanted through the glass windows of Weixianju restaurant's kitchen. Liú Xiǎolè hummed a tuneless "You Love Me" as he put on his brand-new chef's hat. Stains from last night's stir-frying practice still clung to the brim, making him look like a grassroots king wearing a crooked crown.
Since transitioning from washing dishes to becoming an apprentice, he had been dreaming of woks and spatulas even in his sleep. He arrived at the restaurant precisely at five every morning and didn't leave until eleven at night. His fingers were covered in scars from countless knife cuts and burns, yet he never complained. Now, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation, facing a carrot on the cutting board, ready to replicate Master Wang's signature Straw-Robe Cucumber.
"Steady wrist, quick cuts, stop three-quarters of the way down each time..." Liú Xiǎolè murmured Master Wang's teachings, his sharp cleaver dancing up and down in his hands. Fine beads of sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes fixed on the carrot as if it were the only orange vegetable in the world.
The carrot gradually unfolded under his knife, like a golden folding fan. Just as he was about to make the final few cuts, a sharp cough came from behind him.
“Oh, our dishwashing hero has decided to become a chef?” Brother Li leaned against the doorframe, a toothpick dangling from his lips, a smirk on his face sharper than day-old chili oil. His triangular eyes narrowed into slits, greasy hair plastered to his forehead, and his apron stained with years of oil. “Heard you showed off some skills yesterday, why not perform a chest-crushing stunt while you’re at it, to drum up some business?”
He deliberately emphasized the phrase “showed off some skills” and winked at the other chefs around him. A few knowing chuckles rippled through the kitchen.
Liú Xiǎolè’s hand trembled, and the cleaver made a wobbly indentation on the carrot. Gritting his teeth, he forced a smile, his fingernails digging into the knife handle, leaving crescent-shaped marks. Ever since he reported Brother Li last time, the man had been like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, exploding with rage at every opportunity. Even worse, strange rumors had begun circulating in the kitchen – that his cooking prowess was all due to favoritism, with some even whispering that he kept Master Wang's cheat sheets hidden in his apron.
“Brother Li is joking. I’m just learning from Master Wang,” Liú Xiǎolè said, trying to stay calm. He pushed the ruined carrot aside and picked up a new one. His voice trembled slightly, but his eyes were surprisingly firm. “Your knife skills are so amazing, maybe you could teach me sometime?”
His words stopped Brother Li in his tracks, the flesh on his face twitching. He snorted, deliberately bumping Liú Xiǎolè’s shoulder as he walked to the refrigerator and slammed a stainless steel basin onto the counter. The basin contained the sauce Liú Xiǎolè had carefully prepared the night before, now covered with a thin layer of ice.
“This is yours, right?” Brother Li scooped out a large spoonful, the sauce wobbling precariously on the spoon. “You didn’t even cover it with plastic wrap, the whole fridge smells like your sauces!” He moved to dump it into the trash.
“Wait!” Liú Xiǎolè lunged forward, his fingers brushing against Brother Li’s wrist. “I made this according to Master Wang’s recipe. It needs to ferment for three days!”
Brother Li squinted, his expression shifting from mockery to suspicion. “A recipe? Master Wang would share his recipe with a young punk like you?” He turned to the surrounding chefs, his voice rising an octave. “Did you hear that, everyone? This kid claims he has Master Wang’s secret recipe!”
The other chefs exchanged doubtful glances, some muttering, “No wonder he’s improved so quickly… I knew it, how could a dishwasher…”
Just as the atmosphere became tense, the kitchen’s glass door was suddenly flung open. The portly Head Chef burst in, his balding head gleaming like a polished egg. He panted heavily, the grease stains on his chest rising and falling with each breath, his walkie-talkie still crackling.
“Disaster! The Gourmet Street Kitchen King Competition has been moved up to next week!” the Head Chef gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead. His small eyes scanned the crowd. “Our restaurant must send a representative, or those brats from across the street at Weixianju will walk all over us again!”
The Head Chef’s gaze swept over everyone, finally settling on Liú Xiǎolè, who nearly swallowed his cleaver like a pair of chopsticks in shock.
“Xiao Liu, you’re up!” The Head Chef’s large hand slapped Liú Xiǎolè’s shoulder heavily, making his internal organs jiggle. “That few moves you showed last time were as good as any of the old hands!”
The kitchen erupted. Brother Li’s scoff was particularly piercing: “Sending a handyman to the competition? This isn’t throwing a game, it’s throwing a joke!” The other chefs shook their heads, some muttering, “This is ridiculous, we’ll be utterly humiliated if we lose.”
Liú Xiǎolè felt his throat tighten, sweat trickling down from under his chef's hat. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the wooden handle of the cleaver, his knuckles white from the pressure. But then, the Star Abode Pearl hidden in his glabella suddenly felt warm, and a surge of heat rushed from his spine to his forehead, calming his panicked heart.
As if possessed, he straightened his back, his voice suddenly twice as loud: “I’ll go! But… could Master Wang teach me a couple of his signature techniques?”
Master Wang emerged from the crowd and patted Liú Xiǎolè’s shoulder. The sixty-something chef’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp and bright. “You have courage, young man!” Master Wang’s voice was hoarse but powerful. “But the competition is no child’s play. For the next seven days, you’d better be prepared to peel off a layer of skin.”
In the days that followed, the kitchen became Liú Xiǎolè’s boot camp. He was the first to arrive each morning before dawn, committing each of Master Wang’s movements to memory as clearly as if recording them on video, studying and refining them repeatedly. He practiced chopping until his fingers went numb, stir-frying until his wrists ached, and tasting until his tongue lost sensation.
Although Master Wang complained that training a disciple was more tiring than washing three hundred pots, he was uncompromising when it came to teaching true skills. He brought out his treasured secret sauce recipe and painstakingly taught Liú Xiǎolè the secrets of controlling heat and seasoning.
“Seasoning is like falling in love,” Master Wang said, stir-frying the ingredients in the wok. The spatula moved nimbly in his hands. “Salt is passion, sugar is tenderness, vinegar is charm, and spice is excitement. Get the proportions wrong, and the taste is ruined.”
Liú Xiǎolè was like a sponge, absorbing everything. During the day, he studied sauce proportions with Master Wang. At night, back in his small hotel room, he conducted experiments in the tiny kitchen using instant noodle bowls.
One time, he accidentally knocked over a soy sauce bottle. The brown liquid seeped through the floorboards and stained the landlady’s freshly laundered white sheets drying downstairs, turning them into an abstract ink painting.
When the landlady arrived, brandishing the stained sheets, he was already holding chopsticks, stirring a sauce and muttering, “Too much salt, I need to add some sugar to balance it…” The landlady stamped her feet in anger. He could only apologize with a smile and promise to make her breakfast for free for a month.
The night before the competition, Liú Xiǎolè practiced in the kitchen until late. As he was packing up his tools, he realized his knife roll was missing. After searching the entire kitchen, he finally found it in the trash can, soaked in oil. The knives inside were all rusted.
“How could this happen…” Liú Xiǎolè cradled the knife roll, his fingers trembling. This set of knives was what he had saved up to buy, and he had always meticulously maintained them, carefully drying and oiling them after each use. Now they lay in the garbage like discarded scrap metal.
“Oops, I accidentally dropped your precious knives in the oil bucket,” Brother Li emerged from the shadows, a fake apology on his face, but the smugness in his eyes was impossible to hide. “But you won’t need them tomorrow anyway, right?”
Liú Xiǎolè clenched his fists, the Star Abode Pearl in his glabella pulsing warmly. He took a deep breath and turned toward the storage locker, pulling out a spare set of old knives that Master Wang had lent him. “Thanks for the reminder, Brother Li. I’ll use these knives to make a dish that will surprise you.”
On the day of the competition, Gourmet Street was packed, so crowded that even the Jianbing stall at the intersection had to be moved three times. Liú Xiǎolè stood before the temporary stove, his palms sweating. He wore a faded chef’s uniform, a Weixianju emblem pinned to his chest, looking far more humble than the other well-equipped chefs.
Opposite him, the contestant from Weixianju was a burly man with a slicked-back hairstyle and a gold chain. He blew Liú Xiǎolè a provocative flying kiss. In the audience, Brother Li sat with some colleagues, a look of amusement on their faces, ready to watch the show.
“Attention, contestants!” the host announced loudly. “The rules for this competition have been temporarily changed – contestants will randomly draw ingredients and must complete a creative dish within thirty minutes!”
Liú Xiǎolè trembled as he opened the sealed box, nearly blacking out. Three bitter melons, half a block of Fermented Tofu Cheese, and a bunch of wilted cilantro. This was a combination from hell!
A wave of laughter erupted from the audience. Brother Li’s voice was particularly clear: “With these ingredients, even feeding pigs would be too much!”
Just as he sank into despair, the Star Abode Pearl on his forehead suddenly glowed fiercely, sending a surge of energy into his brain. He closed his eyes, and countless cooking techniques and ingredient pairings flooded his mind, as if a culinary maestro were whispering in his ear: “Soaking the sliced bitter melon in salt water removes bitterness… deep-fry the Fermented Tofu Cheese until golden brown… cilantro juice can neutralize greasiness…”
“Time starts now!”
At the referee’s command, Liú Xiǎolè grabbed his cleaver, his movements as swift as tap dancing. He julienned the bitter melon into incredibly thin strands, soaking them in salt water to remove the bitterness. The Fermented Tofu Cheese was coated in flour and deep-fried to a crispy golden brown. The cilantro was blended into a juice and mixed with his secret spicy sauce to create a unique dipping sauce. His actions were fluid and seamless, as if he weren't competing but performing a meticulously choreographed dance.
The flames danced obediently in his hands, and with a flash of his wok spatula, a dish dubbed “Ice and Fire” was born—a base of cool bitter melon shreds, a mountain of crispy fried Fermented Tofu Cheese, drizzled with emerald-green cilantro sauce. The presentation was even more exquisite than those in Michelin-starred restaurants.
At that moment, an accident occurred. The contestant from Weixianju’s deep fryer suddenly malfunctioned, flames shooting up over a meter high, sending the judges scrambling for cover. Without a second thought, Liú Xiǎolè grabbed a fire extinguisher and rushed over. Hot oil splattered onto his face, stinging fiercely, but he ignored it and sprayed the wok vigorously.
By the time the fire was extinguished, his chef’s uniform had several burn holes, and his hair was singed into a curly mess, making him look like a Fire Cloud God who had just escaped an explosion. He panted heavily as he returned to his station, only to find two minutes left in the competition.
“Time’s up!” The referee’s voice made Liú Xiǎolè’s heart sink. His dish wasn’t even garnished yet! But as the judges tentatively tasted the Fermented Tofu Cheese, their expressions instantly shifted from disgust to shock.
“Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, a harmonious blend of funk and aroma, the bitterness of the melon perfectly neutralizes the richness!” one white-haired judge exclaimed, pushing his glasses up his forehead. “Even more commendable, this contestant remained calm in a crisis. This is the true spirit of a Kitchen King!”
When the host announced Liú Xiǎolè as the champion, the entire venue erupted. Confetti and petals rained down. Standing on the podium, he looked at Brother Li’s ashen face in the crowd and felt a sudden warmth in his eyes. Master Wang was clapping furiously in the audience, his wrinkled face blooming into a smile.
However, before he could savor the joy of victory, trouble arrived. That evening, the owner of Weixianju, accompanied by a group of thugs, blocked the entrance to the fast-food restaurant. The bald leader kicked open the glass door with a bang that made the menu on the wall rattle. “You little brat, you ruined my business! Tomorrow, you’d better hand over the championship, or you’ll regret it!”
Liú Xiǎolè shielded the trembling waitress behind him, his heart pounding as if it would burst through his chest. At this critical juncture, the mysterious Star Abode Pearl glowed again. His gaze swept across the kitchen, and an idea struck him.
“If you want a challenge, let’s do it honorably!” Liú Xiǎolè grabbed a wok spatula, twirling it with exaggerated flourish. “Do you dare to compete with me in making the most difficult dish?”
The bald boss paused, then burst into laughter. “You? Fine! Let’s make Buddha Jumps Over the Wall!”
Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, a dish renowned for its complex procedures and expensive ingredients, required even seasoned chefs several days to prepare.
“Alright, let’s make Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. Head Chef, please invite the judges from the Gourmet Street Food Association to witness this,” Liú Xiǎolè said to the Head Chef, a sly smile playing on his lips.
He asked Master Wang to quickly prepare the ingredients while he retreated to the storage room to rummage. The storage room was piled high with expired canned goods and dusty spice jars. Liú Xiǎolè searched as if on a treasure hunt, then his eyes lit up—in the corner sat half a jar of homemade Fermented Tofu Cheese!
An hour later, two steaming pots of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall were served simultaneously. The Weixianju version was golden-hued, exuding a rich aroma, and looked impeccable. But as soon as Liú Xiǎolè’s pot was uncovered, a peculiar smell wafted out—it was the smell of Fermented Tofu Cheese! Everyone frowned. Brother Li gloated from the side, “This is going to be good!”
But as the judges tasted it, their eyes widened. Liú Xiǎolè had used Fermented Tofu Cheese instead of the traditional wine-jar fermentation process. Its unique flavor blended perfectly with ingredients like abalone and sea cucumber, creating a rich, layered taste that exploded on the tongue. Even the bald boss couldn't help but give a thumbs-up. “I admit, kid, you’re pretty good!”
The thug threw down a harsh threat and retreated with his men. The Head Chef, tears of joy streaming down his face, embraced Liú Xiǎolè. “From today onwards, you are our restaurant’s star chef! You’ll get a raise tomorrow!”
Late at night, Liú Xiǎolè lay on his bed in the small hotel, the neon lights outside still twinkling. He played with the Star Abode Pearl, recalling the day’s turbulent events. This mysterious bead seemed to have opened a new world to him. His culinary legend had just begun.