Chapter 387 - 199: Now, This Is What You Call a Reputation

Chapter 387: Chapter 199: Now, This Is What You Call a Reputation

"Snowflake Chicken Porridge?!" Xu Yunliang’s voice shot up, his eyes filled with astonishment. "Wait a minute. Did Master secretly teach your master this behind our backs?"

Zhou Yan could see shock, confusion, and a trace of pained betrayal in his eyes.

’He had probably already played out an entire drama in his head, a tale of a master favoring his youngest disciple and secretly passing down an exclusive recipe.’

"No, that’s not it. My master doesn’t know how to make it either," Zhou Yan quickly interjected.

"Your master doesn’t know how, and as far as I know, your Master shouldn’t either. Back in the day, the only person in Jiazhou who could make it properly was Old Luo’s father. Even your Master reminisced about it for years, thinking it a terrible shame that the recipe was lost. He later spent years trying to recreate it, but always ended in failure." Xu Yunliang stared at him, his expression serious. "So, how do you know how to make Snowflake Chicken Porridge?"

Zhou Yan looked back at him, his own expression just as serious. "If I told you I figured it out myself by studying a recipe, would you believe me?"

Xu Yunliang fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t believe them. But you... I believe you."

The corner of Zhou Yan’s mouth twitched, and he had to fight to keep a straight face.

’Alright then, that’s what you call a reputation!’

Xu Yunliang then asked, "Has your master tried it yet? How is it? I, for one, have had the authentic version in Rongcheng."

"I just recently learned how, so my master hasn’t tried it yet. I think it’s alright," Zhou Yan said with a smile. "I’ve never had the authentic version, so I’ll have to ask for your expert opinion later."

"Your master’s got some real nerve." Xu Yunliang had to admit. It wasn’t just fellow disciples from the sect attending today; there was also a reporter from the Jiazhou Daily.

This was a story on Qian Siyuan’s long journey to find his family, but also a joint feature on his culinary pilgrimage and the Kong Sect, all in memory of their late master, Grandmaster Kong Huafeng.

As Kong Huafeng’s eldest disciple, he naturally had to be there. He had only returned to Jiazhou last night and had to rush back this evening, so he placed great importance on the event.

But seeing Zhou Yan’s calm and unbothered expression, he couldn’t help but smile. "Alright, then. Maybe your Snowflake Chicken Porridge will blow everyone away. If you can really pull it off, that would be a tremendous achievement. It would also be like fulfilling one of my master’s old wishes."

"I’ll do my best," Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"You’ve got a good temperament." Xu Yunliang reached out and patted Zhou Yan’s arm, lowering his voice. "Ever thought about switching masters? Your master is only a second-level chef, you know. I’m a First-level Chef now. If you’re interested, I could even recommend you for a job at the Rongcheng Restaurant."

Zhou Yan was left speechless.

’Like master, like apprentice, indeed.’

’One’s trying to poach a new disciple, while the other is trying to find a new master.’

"My master gave me my big break. I couldn’t possibly switch," Zhou Yan replied with a smile.

"Hahaha, I was just messing with you!" Xu Yunliang boomed with laughter. He turned to Xiao Lei, who was standing nearby. "Junior Brother, this disciple of yours is really something else. He actually looked like he was considering it!"

Xiao Lei nodded. "Right? He’s not as forthright as Master Zheng, who tells me every single day that he wants to become my disciple."

Xu Yunliang’s smile vanished instantly.

The smile transferred to Zhou Yan’s face. ’When it came to passive-aggressive remarks, Master Xiao was truly second to none.’

Xu Yunliang’s gaze shifted to Zheng Qiang, who was chopping meat off to the side. "Master Zheng," he said, a smile plastered on his face that didn’t reach his eyes, "is that how it is?"

A chill ran down Zheng Qiang’s spine. He turned around, his own smile stiff. "Master, I was just kidding! You’ll always be my favorite master!"

"I don’t lay a hand on you for three days and you think you can fly, huh?" Xu Yunliang pointed at him. "Just you wait! I’ll deal with you when I get home tonight!"

Zheng Qiang broke into a wide grin. "Master, aren’t you supposed to be heading back this afternoon? I’ve got a banquet to cook for tonight, so I guess I won’t be able to see you off."

"Why, you little..." Xu Yunliang raised his hand.

"Master, look! The man standing over there is the reporter. He just interviewed me," Zheng Qiang said quickly. "And I had plenty of good things to say about you! Told him you’re especially kind to your disciples, that you never hit or yell at them, that you lead by example, and that you’ve inherited our Master’s outstanding character."

Xu Yunliang glanced back at the young man standing by the door—the one in a white shirt, a black suit jacket, and holding a notebook. His raised hand came down and landed gently on Zheng Qiang’s shoulder. "We’ll settle this when I get back," he whispered.

"That’ll probably be around Chinese New Year, then," Zheng Qiang said with a laugh.

Nearby, the corners of Xiao Lei’s mouth were twitching uncontrollably as he fought to hold back a grin.

"And you’re laughing? He learned to be so cheeky from you," Xu Yunliang said, shaking his head with a helpless sigh.

"So, Senior Brother, what are you planning on making for lunch?" Xiao Lei asked with a smile.

Xu Yunliang replied, "I’ll just make a Dry-Burned Rock Carp. The Kong Sect excels at fish dishes, and most of Master’s signature dishes involved fish, so I’ll make something representative."

"Sounds good. Your Dry-Burned Rock Carp has always been excellent," Xiao Lei nodded.

While the masters were reminiscing, Zhou Yan didn’t want to stand around idly. He sent Comrade Zhou over to watch the Sichuan opera face-changing with Mrs. Zhao and the others. He’d heard the troupe was invited all the way from Jiazhou, and a large crowd of villagers had already gathered to watch.

In an era with a stark lack of entertainment, a traveling Sichuan opera troupe in the countryside was a rare and captivating sight.

Zhou Yan took a cloth-wrapped bundle from his basket, which held his knives and spices, and headed toward the cutting boards.

"Junior Brother Zhou, don’t try to squeeze in. There are only four cutting boards, and it’s not our turn yet," Kong Liwei said with a laugh, pulling him back.

Zhou Yan looked at the seven or eight fourth-generation disciples crowded around the four cutting boards and stopped with a smile as well. Looks like even getting a turn as a prep cook today required waiting in line.

"I bought that magazine you were in! That was so impressive! The cover, a feature interview, and photos!" Kong Liwei looked at him with pure envy. "When will I ever be as amazing as you and get my own feature story?"

"With your talent, Senior Brother, it’s only a matter of time," Zhou Yan said with a laugh.