Food Wars: Let him cook

"Your elders are correct."

"To create a good dish, you indeed need to start by selecting the ingredients. This is a very simple truth that most people understand."

"But this doesn't mean that inferior ingredients cannot produce good cuisine. The key still lies in the chef's skill, whether they can adapt their approach to the ingredients at hand."

As the surrounding voices gradually subsided, Dylan slowly began to speak.

"Adapt to the ingredients? Indeed, as long as the spoiled parts of the ingredients are removed, what remains is still good."

"Although some parts might be lost, what's left is still good. And some superficially damaged parts don't affect their use at all; they just look unsightly."

Dylan's words plunged the scene into silence. The students began to ponder the meaning behind his words. Did he mean that as long as the chef themselves was skilled, slightly inferior ingredients didn't really matter much?

After all, once the bad parts were removed, the essence of those ingredients was still good…

"You are these slightly flawed ingredients. Although you're often looked down upon, you each have commendable aspects, more or less. You are not completely spoiled."

"As long as you are cooked properly, even slightly inferior ingredients can be transformed into the most exquisite delicacies. This saying applies to people just as well."

Dylan continued, his face earnest.

"Before reaching the Super Chef level, don't talk about talent."

"Things like basic techniques—can't learn them in one go? Then practice them ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times! Until it becomes muscle memory, then you'll naturally master it."

"It's getting late. Now that you're full, don't just lie around here. Go for a walk outside to digest, then return to your respective rooms to rest."

"The wooden hut isn't very big, so one room per person is unrealistic. You're not here for a vacation either. For accommodation, men and women will be separate, ten people to a room. Bedding and such have all been prepared."

"Wake up at cock's crow tomorrow morning to begin the morning training. Only after passing the morning session will you get breakfast. Pray you don't go hungry."

Looking at the slightly moved youths, Dylan bit into the tomato in his hand, turned, waved, and walked off in another direction.

"Even spoiled vegetables can be cooked into such a delicacy. Compared to that, we're still better off…"

"Sleep, and then welcome tomorrow's dawn!"

"Indeed! Let those self-righteous geniuses see that even laggards can trample them underfoot!"

Watching Dylan's retreating figure, after a brief silence, someone suddenly spoke up.

What followed was a chorus of agreement.

Inspired by Dylan, every one of them was filled with high fighting spirit. They then found rooms in the wooden hut, and with eleven people to a room, they went straight to sleep.

Because they knew they were here for special training, not a single person complained about the poor conditions.

And due to the extreme fatigue from training, after returning to their rooms, spreading out their futons, and crawling into bed, their heads had barely touched the pillows before they drifted off to dreamland.

In both the boys' and girls' rooms, thunderous snores now echoed.

.

"Boss Dylan, you're finally back."

In the room, Leah had, at some point, changed into a kimono and was sitting properly at a small table, upon which were plates of exquisite dishes.

Seeing Dylan enter, she immediately greeted him with a smile and rose to welcome him.

"Where are the fried peanuts you made?"

Dylan glanced at the dishes on the table. Not seeing what he had asked for, he was a bit puzzled and turned to ask Leah.

"How could my cooking possibly deserve a place on this table?"

Looking at the dishes shimmering with a gentle glow, and then thinking of her own exceedingly ordinary peanuts, Leah couldn't help but give a wry smile.

Just a moment ago, she had thought her cooking was quite good and might satisfy Dylan.

But now, seeing him effortlessly create a large batch of glowing cuisine, she suddenly felt a lack of confidence and was thus unwilling to present her own dish.

"What do you mean, 'deserve' or 'not deserve'? I just want to eat the peanuts you made. Very, very much. Hurry up and bring them out."

"Alright then…"

Hearing Leah's words, Dylan sat down opposite her, tapping the table as he spoke, asking her to bring out the peanuts she had made.

And Leah, seeing Dylan like this, finally brought out the peanuts she had hidden under the table.

"Isn't this quite good?"

Looking at the peanuts Leah hesitantly brought out, Dylan directly picked one up, tossed it into his mouth, and after chewing a couple of times, made "mmm, mmm, mmm" sounds.

"But compared to this table full of shimmering, glowing dishes, it's just too ordinary to mention."

Hearing Dylan's words, Leah couldn't help but mutter softly. She knew he was comforting her. Although she was grateful, there was really no need.

The difference between their dishes was like night and day.

"Don't worry about whether it glows or shimmers. Those are just superficial things."

"The most important thing in cooking is the heart of the cook—that heart that 'wants to see a happy expression on their face when they eat the dish.' If you have that kind of thought, you are already a very skilled chef."

Dylan picked up a wine cup from the table, took a sip, and spoke, his gaze slightly deep.

"Want to see a happy expression on their face when they eat the dish? If you cook with that kind of feeling, will it make people happy?"

"I don't know, but I can feel the emotion you poured into this dish. You put a lot of thought into it, didn't you?"

Hearing Leah's muttering, Dylan picked up another peanut and closed his eyes to savor it carefully.

The texture was crispy, the taste savory and fragrant. Because white wine had been added, the peanuts exuded a rich aroma of wine, which would be even more delightful paired with more wine.

"Have a drink with me, Leah."

Swirling the wine cup, Dylan said.

"Yes, Boss Dylan!"

Hearing Dylan's voice, Leah also came to her senses. She then looked at the empty wine cup, rose slightly, and gracefully began to pour wine for him.

She had learned this a few days ago on the fly. Although her movements weren't that standard, paired with her delicate and cute doll-like face, it had a unique charm.

Dylan also enjoyed it. Unfortunately, the girl's figure wasn't particularly well-developed; even if she deliberately loosened her collar, it didn't reveal much allure, instead giving off a sense of innocent, careless cuteness.

This feeling was quite attractive.

At least, Dylan quite liked it. He had seen countless gentle, charming women with stunning figures, but someone like Leah was rare in this world.

Like an exquisite doll.

Time passed bit by bit. Cup after cup of wine went down, and Leah's face had turned red; she looked a bit tipsy.

"Boss Dylan, I... I like you!"

Leaning entirely into Dylan's embrace, Leah's eyes were hazy, and only this one sentence remained on her lips.

"I'm quite fond of you too."

"You're a bit drunk. Let me take you back to rest."

Dylan said, preparing to help Leah up and take her to her room to rest. However, the girl clung to him like a boneless water snake.

"Not going back. Sleep together."

Her voice held a hint of coquettishness, her neck comfortably nestled, eyes half-closed.

"Alright, if we sleep together, we sleep together. But you have to let go of me first so I can get the bedding. We can't just use the sky as our blanket and the earth as our bed, can we?"

"You feel cool, it's so comfortable to hold you. I feel hot, I need something cool to cool down, um…

So I can't let go."

Leah mumbled incoherently, her sentences jumbled like those of a young child, clearly somewhat delirious from drinking.

"I should really record this for you, so you can hear what you said tomorrow. At least you're not a rowdy drunk; from this point, your character is quite good."

Dylan sighed helplessly, supported Leah by her bottom, and stood up. Holding her with one arm, he used the other to get bedding from the closet and then spread it out on the floor.

After finishing all this, he turned off the room light and then slipped into the futon.

.

Early morning, as the first ray of sunlight streamed in through the window, Leah rubbed her slightly throbbing head and sat up alone from the bedding.

The pain from the hangover made her clutch her head, unable to speak for a long moment.

When she finally recovered a bit, she noticed her kimono was loose and disheveled. A look of panic crossed her face, and she hastily checked herself.

However, remembering she had been drinking with Dylan last night, the panic receded like a tide.

In its place was a faint sense of resentment.

She had been like that last night, yet Dylan remained unmoved. From the sensations on her body, he had only indulged in some light touching.

Could it be that she was so unattractive?

Impossible. If that were true, Dylan wouldn't have even touched her. The faint, unusual sensations in a few places on her body definitely weren't just accidental brushes.

.

"Is it because of that disciple…"

An image of the disciple Dylan often mentioned back in the Dark Cooking Society surfaced in her mind. A strange feeling arose in Leah's heart, and a bitter smile appeared on her face.

That person had known Boss Dylan earlier than she did and had reportedly even saved his life. The position of 'Lady of the Dark Cooking Society,' no matter how you thought about it, should be hers.

As for her…

"As for me, I'm content just being by Boss Dylan's side!"

Leah changed her clothes, quietly voicing her innermost thoughts.

.

"Faster, faster! I'll whip anyone who dares to stop! Why is every single one of you so weak? You're already like this? And you haven't even properly swung chopsticks (in a tiring exercise)? How will you control a kitchen knife!"

Watching the young men and women jogging in the mountain forest, constantly practicing with two iron balls in their hands, Dylan's cold voice urged them on.

For a chef, strength and endurance were both very important.

Yesterday, having these kids practice wok flipping, besides honing their technique, also had the intention of building their strength.

And after a night of training, their arms were all sore to varying degrees, unsuitable for continued heavy training.

But idling wasn't an option either, so Dylan found a whip and began to hone their endurance. And the best way to increase stamina was through jogging—prolonged aerobic exercise.

"Don't stop! If you want to stop, burn out completely first!"

"Yes, Professor Dylan!"

Seeing the few at the back slowing down more and more, almost to a walking pace, Dylan's brow furrowed, and he immediately brandished his whip and followed them.

And those few, seeing him approach, and the long whip whistling menacingly through the air, about to land on them, turned pale with fright and immediately quickened their pace.

"Boss Dylan."

Seeing this scene, Leah, who had changed her clothes and come out of her room, greeted him and then trotted to his side.

"Oh, you're awake."

"Perfect timing. I've been supervising them here all morning. I'll leave the rest to you."

"If they stop or slow down, use the whip to chase them. If someone really can't hold on, let them stand and rest. You be sure to manage the intensity."

Seeing Leah approach, Dylan raised his hand in greeting and then handed the whip to her.

"Understood! Suddenly sitting down after intense exercise is bad for the body; I know that much!"

Leah nodded. Although she didn't know why Dylan could hand over the whip so naturally, she accepted it.

.

The fact that he didn't disturb her sleep in the morning and let her wake up naturally, she was already very grateful for that.

"Then I'll head back to the kitchen first."

"Okay, be careful on your way."

"All of you, run! I'm talking to you, the few at the back! Don't think I'll be easy on you just because I'm here! I'll only be stricter than Boss Dylan!"

Watching Dylan's retreating figure and the people slowing down at the back of the group, Leah frowned, brandished the whip, and went after them.

"Yes, Professor Leah!"

They had initially thought they could take it a bit easier with her, but when the whip grazed past their faces, taking off a piece of bark from a nearby tree.

They discovered that Leah was even fiercer than Dylan!

.

"Smells so good! It seems these little ones are in for a treat."

Smelling the fragrant aroma lingering in the air, Dylan couldn't help but comment, then looked towards the short, pinkish-purple-haired beautiful girl darting between numerous clay pots, her brow slightly furrowed, constantly checking the heat and occasionally adding hot water.

"Professor Dylan, you're back! Quick, save me! Simultaneously handling over a hundred pots of stewed soup, this is simply not something a human can do!"

Hearing a sound at the entrance, Hisako Arato looked up in surprise, then, seeing it was Dylan, ran forward with a woeful expression.

If one looked closely, a hint of panic could be seen on the girl's face.

"Pouting won't work. This is a test for you. During a Shokugeki, it's not like your opponent will concede just because you cry to them."

Dylan reached out and gently ruffled Hisako Arato's smooth short hair, speaking with a half-smile.

"Oh, I knew you wouldn't agree. What a waste of my emotions."

The delicate look vanished from her face, replaced by an expression that said, 'I knew you'd say that.'

"You knew and you still tried? Aren't you just asking for a pinch?"

Looking at Hisako Arato's rapid change in demeanor, Dylan couldn't resist pinching her cheek until she winced.

"Hiss! That hurts!"

"There's no harm in trying. What if I succeeded?"

Hisako Arato rubbed her cheek, looking at Dylan resentfully.

This guy really didn't know how to cherish a fair lady!

He could even bring himself to do this to such a beautiful girl. Who pinches cheeks so hard!

"The water in clay pots number 32, 61, 72, and 86 is about to boil dry. Hurry up and add more."

Smelling the air, Dylan said to Hisako Arato. This made the girl's expression turn panicked, and she became flustered.

At the same time, she felt Dylan was even more terrifying. There were so many identical stews here; theoretically, their aromas should be similar.

Yet he just twitched his nose and could tell which pot of stew was about to dry out.

Such a terrifying ability. No wonder he possessed such powerful cooking techniques. He should be like Lady Erina, possessing some kind of super-sensory abilities.

"Clay pot number 11 is about ready. Bring it over for me to taste."

Looking at the busy Hisako Arato, Dylan found an empty spot to sit down and then spoke to her again.

The method of making medicinal soup in a clay pot was something he had taught Hisako Arato some time ago. Although she knew some of it before, what she had learned were all simplified versions.

Although this kind of thing has tradition but no single 'authentic' version, with a thousand people having a thousand tastes, the world has always been very unified in its evaluation of deliciousness.

Therefore, after discovering Hisako Arato's issues, he had corrected her. For this, the girl even earned quite a few ruler smacks from him.

"Okay."

After adding hot water to the pots Dylan had pointed out earlier, and then putting two more kettles on to boil, Hisako Arato carried clay pot number 11 to him.

"Please taste it."

Nimbly, she ladled a bowl and presented it to Dylan. Hisako Arato's expression was tense, her eyes fixed on his face.

At this moment, Dylan looked at the chicken soup before him. He wasn't in a hurry but closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling its fragrance before speaking:

"This Astragalus and Goji Berry Chicken Soup is just right to replenish their nutrients."

"The chicken used is authentic free-range local chicken, paired with astragalus root and goji berries, and finally, a few golden silk small jujubes are added. It's truly incredibly delicious!"

Opening his eyes, Dylan couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, a satisfied look on his face.

At his invitation, Hisako Arato had come up the mountain before dawn to prepare nourishing medicinal cuisine for those laggards in special training.

After a morning of simmering, slow-cooked over a gentle fire, the Astragalus and Goji Berry Chicken Soup had now, with the accumulation of time, become incomparably delicious.

"Don't just stand there in a daze. Ladle a bowl for yourself too. You've worked hard all morning; the person who made the soup can't not have a single sip."

Seeing Hisako Arato sitting to the side, looking at him expectantly, a look of exasperation appeared on Dylan's face.

He then stood up, personally ladled a bowl for her, and gave her the large chicken leg from the clay pot.

"This pot of chicken soup used a whole 4-jin local chicken, to help the students who have toiled all day replenish their nutrients and fill their stomachs."

"Thank you."

Accepting the chicken soup from Dylan, Hisako Arato thanked him softly, then gently took a spoonful. The soup was as smooth as silk, melting in her mouth.

"Medicinal cuisine, medicinal cuisine. When made well, the taste is truly fantastic. No wonder they love slow-cooked soups so much in Guangdong. A mouthful before a meal, and you feel as happy as an immortal!"

Dylan picked up his bowl and began to drink, closing his eyes again to carefully savor the taste.

A faint herbal aroma intertwined with the richness of the chicken.

The addition of astragalus root added a touch of subtle sweetness and a slight herbal fragrance to the soup.

It wasn't overpowering but slowly released in the mouth, complementing the umami of the chicken, making the overall taste of the soup fuller and more layered.

Goji berries brought hints of fruitiness and a slight sweet-sour note. They danced lightly on the palate, intertwining with the sweetness of the astragalus and the richness of the chicken, forming a unique taste experience.

This balance of sweet-sour and subtle sweetness was neither cloying nor overly tart, perfectly stimulating the vitality of the taste buds.

"Excellent. I quite like this soup."

By the time he came back to his senses, the Astragalus and Goji Berry Chicken Soup in front of him was finished. Dylan ladled another bowl from the clay pot, his face full of satisfaction.

_____

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