Chapter Eleven: Wen Zhi to the Rescue

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Wen Zhi had barely gotten out of bed when she realized something was wrong with her body.

She had gone to sleep early the night before, so why did she feel as exhausted as if every bone in her body had come loose? Her face was a little swollen too, especially around the eyes, and her head was pounding, just like after staying up all night.

Strange.

She went downstairs in her cotton slippers, only to catch the enticing smell of meat. The closer she got to the first floor, the richer the aroma became.

Before she even reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw the man sitting there leisurely with one leg crossed over the other, while an older woman bustled about in the kitchen.

“Awake?”

Wait a moment. Why did this man’s expression look so…

Suggestive?

As expected, this pampered young master could not live without someone waiting on him. He had only been here for two days and had already hired a housekeeper.

Still, that was fortunate. At least she would not have to get up early to prepare breakfast before work.

Auntie Li ladled out a bowl of soup and placed it in front of her.

Wen Zhi hurriedly nodded her thanks. Being waited on like this felt so strange. She doubted she would ever get used to it.

After all, she was merely an employee herself.

[Are you not going to work?]

At this hour, the man would usually have been long gone.

“What kind of question is that? I’m the CEO. I go to work whenever I feel like it.”

Wen Zhi: …

“The competition is only a couple of days away. Make sure you get enough rest,” the man said.

Was he concerned about her? The sun must have risen in the west today.

[I know.]

“I’m only saying this for your own good. I heard Grandmaster Zhou will be inspecting everyone on-site that day. It’ll be quite exhausting.”

Did that count as giving away the questions?

Wen Zhi desperately tried to erase those words from her mind. She had heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.

[Thank you, but I won’t be competing that day.]

She lowered her head and idly separated the meat from the bones with her spoon.

Bo Ye was stunned by her words. Hadn’t Wu Five reported that this girl had won quite a few awards? Could it be that what happened yesterday had been because of this?

“That’s good, then. I won’t have to worry about being accused of mixing public and private matters when I give the scores.”

The man put away his iPad, straightened his tie, and rose to his feet.

Wen Zhi did not answer. She kept her head bowed and continued her work of separating meat from bone.

Seeing the girl looking so dispirited, Bo Ye thought that he had already done everything he was obligated to do. He had even comforted her properly the night before.

The rest was no longer his concern, surely.

And yet, when he saw her sitting there with her head lowered in thought, it still felt as though a wad of cotton had lodged itself in his chest.

He tugged at his tie again.

—

“Sis, they said we were making desserts, but you’ve got me making spun-sugar apples. Are you joking?”

“Everyone else is making tiramisu and things like that. Spun-sugar apples are so embarrassing.”

Wang Wei spoke with disdain.

[Getting the heat right for spun sugar is actually quite difficult. You can watch Grandmaster Zhou’s previous instructional videos…]

“Stop comparing us. I can’t understand half of what you’re saying anyway. This is annoying enough already, and now I have to come to the practice kitchen every day and look at a mute.”

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Wen Zhi stiffened when she heard that. Perhaps everyone was simply tired of testing dishes every day.

She typed on her phone.

“Hmph. Grandmaster Zhou? Looks like you’re determined to win this position. Now that I’ve taken your place through my own ability, you’re unhappy and have come to make trouble for me, is that it?”

Even someone as good-tempered as Wen Zhi could not help rolling her eyes.

[Then develop the dish yourself, you idiot.]

“What did you say?”

[I said you’re an idiot.]

Wang Wei looked at the message she had typed, which was completely at odds with what she was saying aloud:

[Then I wish you the best of luck with your own research.]

“Is sign language really that complicated?”

…

Competition day arrived before long.

Wen Zhi had never intended to compete, but she still wanted to attend and observe the event, so she put on a staff badge and went.

As she entered the venue, she spotted the man from a distance in the staff section. He was in the middle of a media interview.

It was as though his eyes were equipped with an automatic targeting system. The instant before she looked away, they caught her gaze.

His expression seemed to say: See? I knew you were looking at me.

Wen Zhi turned her eyes away, unaware that the tips of her ears had flushed faintly red.

When the competition began, Wang Wei discovered, while taking a knife from the knife cabinet, that both his and Sang Yiyu’s knife blades had been damaged.

“How is this possible? I even took mine out and sharpened it last night!” Sang Yiyu said furiously.

“Director, what should we do?”

The two of them requested permission to ask questions from outside the competition area and received a warning from the judges. When Wang Wei saw the warning placard, he was so furious he nearly jumped.

“How could this happen? We specifically checked them again just now!”

“Wait here. I’ll ask the staff for two knives. If we’re lucky, perhaps they’ll have a couple that are properly sharpened.”

The school was more than an hour away from the venue by public transport. There was no way they could make the trip in time.

The staff hurried to the rear kitchen and brought back two knives. They were not particularly sharp, but they were good enough for cooking.

By the time the two men received the knives, half an hour had already passed. There was no time left to prepare the dessert.

Both Wang Wei and Sang Yiyu were on edge. They kept glancing at the countdown and at the neighboring team’s progress, paying no attention to what their hands were doing.

“Ah!”

Wang Wei failed to notice that he had sliced open his finger.

How could he have made such a foolish, elementary mistake?

“Quick, take him to the hospital!” the director said at once.

“It’s fine. Just bandage it,” Wang Wei insisted.

“Are you insane? What if you’ve injured the tendons or bones?”

The director hurriedly dragged Wang Wei away.

“Wen Zhi, you take his place!”

Wen Zhi: …

There was no time to hesitate.

“There are only thirty minutes left! Just make as much as you can!”

As he spoke, he pulled an oversized chef’s uniform over her and pushed her onto the stage.

Bo Ye was still sending messages.

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Bo Ye: [Have you eaten, little demon?]

Zhuang Sui: [No.]

For some reason, she had stopped eating again ever since that day.

Bo Ye: [There’s a competition here. They’re bound to have something you’ll want to eat.]

Without even thinking, she replied:

[Not going.]

He took a photograph of the event onstage and sent it over. Only after glancing at the picture did he notice that Wen Zhi had taken the stage.

The girl was hurriedly adjusting the completely ill-fitting chef’s uniform, hastily tying up her long hair, rolling up her sleeves, and picking up a barely sharpened knife before beginning to cut the meat.

He put down his phone, his drowsiness vanishing without a trace, and watched her work onstage.

He did not notice that several new-message notifications were flashing across his phone screen.

[I’m coming.]

[Send me the address.]

[?]

[Send me the address.]

…

[There isn’t enough time. The tiramisu would have to go into the oven, so we’ll make spun-sugar apples instead. You cut the meat and prepare the ingredients. I’ll coat the apples first.]

“Okay.”

Sang Yiyu nodded repeatedly as he read the message on his phone. The panic he had felt moments earlier vanished completely under the woman’s calm, commanding presence.

She knew every step by heart. She had practiced them countless times in the training kitchen, originally believing that no one would ever see her perform them again…

All she could do was pray that she would succeed this time.

With thirty seconds left on the countdown, the apple pieces rolled through the syrup.

During the final ten seconds, she separated the pieces and pulled the sugar into fine strands.

Three, two, one. Time was up.

Wen Zhi and Sang Yiyu bowed deeply toward the judges’ table.

“All right. Judges, please taste and score the dishes one by one in order.”

Sang Yiyu silently gave Wen Zhi a thumbs-up. Her role as the team’s anchor had been absolutely crucial.

“Who made these spun-sugar apples?” one of the judges asked.

Wen Zhi raised her hand.

“Not bad. You managed the heat and timing very well,” Grandmaster Zhou said with a nod.

“You seem to have been brought in at the last minute as well. Very good. You have excellent improvisational skills.”

[Thank you.]

“You cannot speak?”

The others could not understand sign language. As countless reporters saw Grandmaster Zhou speaking, they hurried over with their cameras, leaving Wen Zhi suddenly embarrassed.

“She said thank you,” Bo Ye said.

Wen Zhi looked toward the man, her gratitude clear without a word.

“Oh… ha-ha. What does it matter if she cannot speak? Your food is the finest expression of who you are—clean and pure.”

Grandmaster Zhou smiled as he made several marks in the scoring book.