Chapter 26: The Beautiful Personal Trainer

Like a symphony, a classic usually unfolds in four movements, and the conductor must design every aspect—honoring principles that have been passed down for centuries, yet also infusing the piece with their own unique brilliance.

One must orchestrate not only the climaxes but also the melodies. When to advance, when to withdraw? When to yield, when to press forward?

When to lay your cards on the table, when to go with the current? When to turn the tide, when to pursue victory, when to stop at the perfect moment...

These are all techniques, all secrets a conductor carries within, each meticulously planned in advance.

Zhuang Chen took a deep breath, finally understanding the words his mentor had once spoken: “It’s simple to perfect a single dish; the true art lies in composing an entire banquet.”

Li Xiaolin gazed at the young man before him. At first glance, he sensed the presence of a fellow craftsman—calloused hands born of years wielding the knife, a skill one could never fake.

In truth, every chef is a gourmand. Strictly speaking, to be a connoisseur of fine food is not even a formal profession.

Few can make a fortune simply by critiquing cuisine. Sensitive taste is merely the foundation; one also needs a wealth of knowledge and cultural depth. Most important of all, one must have money!

Seeing that his counterpart had grasped his meaning, Li Xiaolin spoke with gravity: “Gastronomy is humanity’s most fundamental art. Food and desire are our nature—when hunger strikes, who cares for music or painting?”

“Sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty—they’re like do, re, mi, fa, so, and the colors red, green, blue, yellow, purple; in the end, it’s all about rhythm.”

“This is the essence of imperial cuisine: sparing no expense, striving for perfection, all to win a single smile from the emperor. It may seem like a hundred dishes, but it contains the world’s wisdom and depth.”

“Private dining is difficult precisely because of this. It may seem arbitrary—the guest spends money yet has no right to choose?”

“In fact, we do our work in advance. At the time of reservation, we learn the guest’s preferences, then set the menu, select ingredients with utmost care, and approach our craft as if serving an emperor, building our reputation with diligence…”

Listening to Li Xiaolin’s insights, Zhuang Chen was filled with respect. Suddenly, they spoke in unison, sighing, “It’s not easy!”

They exchanged glances and laughed together. Li Xiaolin rose, took out a bottle of Maotai, and declared, “Today we’re happy—let’s break the rules and have a few drinks.”

Glasses were filled. Zhuang Chen toasted his elder first. This meal had been a revelation, opening his eyes to a higher realm of cuisine, and he left with new understanding.

After sampling several dishes, Zhuang Chen understood the real reason why Li Family Cuisine had earned Hao Baoli’s acclaim. It was the old saying: “An opera singer is known for their voice; a chef, for their broth.”

The allure of Li Family dishes lay not in extravagant ingredients, but in the pursuit of pure, original flavors, and a refusal to thicken the sauces—the essence was in time and perseverance.

Who says the broth from shark fin is too fishy and must be discarded?

And who insists only Jinhua ham can bring out umami?

Master Li’s approach completely overturned conventional wisdom, just like the imperial kitchens—cost was no object.

The braised shark fin boasted thick, distinct needles of fin, a golden broth, and a rich, mellow flavor. In its lingering savory sweetness, not a trace of ham could be found.

The secret lay in using fin broth, yellow oil chicken, and dried scallops, simmered to perfection, with not a hint of thickener.

The bird’s nest dish was wild and delicate, featuring bird’s nest, shredded chicken, and crispy fried vermicelli. Poured over with a chicken broth simmered from the nest itself, the three distinct textures intertwined to create layers of delight.

The gelatin from the bird’s nest gave the soup a gentle viscosity, melding the essences without ruining the cool, tender mouthfeel.

It was as if three beautiful women, each with her own style, joined hands and danced, dazzling the eye and stirring the heart, leaving one torn between choices.

They teased the sensitive palate—sometimes gentle, sometimes wild—spinning, leaping, swirling, entwining...

A symphony of contrasts, a legendary ménage à trois!

Just as desire reached its peak, another dish arrived: original-flavor abalone...

A slow-simmered chicken broth coaxed out the abalone’s true color and taste, with no ribs or Jinhua ham in sight. The hema abalone was cooked until just set at the center, yielding a soft yet resilient bite.

Its mellow savor was pure, with an abalone essence that shimmered clear between the teeth. Savoring it, there was a faint, briny note.

Stirring it with the tongue brought a subtle thrill, as if a lover whispered in your ear, a place of peach blossoms you never wished to leave.

Braised pork with fish maw followed—thick, steak-like pieces, soaked for four days and cooked in chicken broth until the gelatin melted into the soup. The fish maw was delicate and sticky, its flavor enhanced with Baoding-style braised pork.

A balance between freshness and richness was achieved, revealing the most bashful side of the ingredients, as if draped in a mysterious veil, sparking endless imagination.

Dessert was the famous “Three No-Stick,” beloved by Empress Dowager Cixi and Lu Xun alike. It neither stuck to chopsticks, nor plate, nor teeth. Made with a flick of the ladle, stirring, tossing, patting, pressing—all demanding keen eyes, swift hands, and precise control of the flame.

Though stir-fried, it emerged as refined as if steamed, with a soft, cloud-like texture, somewhere between a cake and a custard.

A sip of bird’s nest and mung bean soup followed. The peeled mung beans were simmered until silky, with crisp cubes of pear—refreshment in every bite...

Utter comfort!

Seeing Zhuang Chen’s look of contentment, Li Xiaolin smiled sincerely. For a chef, the greatest fortune is to meet a kindred spirit who truly loves and understands food.

As he rode away, Zhuang Chen gazed at the modest courtyard house and offered genuine praise: Li Family Cuisine is worthy of its name!

Hu Hai, rubbing his satisfied belly, reminisced, “These days, you see restaurants everywhere, but the true old flavors are growing ever more rare!”

“Even the century-old establishments can’t stay the same forever—they must innovate, striving to suit modern tastes. If later generations lack passion or talent, then…”

After seeing Hu Hai home, Zhuang Chen fell silent, savoring the rhythm of fine cuisine—his horizons widening with every step.

Back at No. 7 Courtyard, after a bath, he lounged on the sofa reading the wine book Ding Mengyao had recommended. Tang Hong had also sent photos: the studio’s location was settled, in the CBD business center, 180 square meters, eighty thousand a month.

Next came registering the company, setting shares according to the investment, recruiting staff. Tang Hong promised formal operations within half a month.

Zhuang Chen replied with a few words. Listening to others report progress had its charm—at least it meant he was still needed. After some study, he lay in bed and drifted into a deep sleep.

The next morning, after a long run, Zhuang Chen watched Xia Long and Xia Hu, their faces unchanged, and remarked with admiration, “No wonder you’re special forces—your endurance is incredible!”

The two exchanged a glance, then said approvingly, “You have a solid foundation. If you keep at it, you’ll only get better.”

“Then help me set up a workout plan,” Zhuang Chen joked as he skipped rope. “The body is the capital of revolution—you can’t just eat and not train!”

Xia Long nodded, “The pool at Chang’an Club is excellent. We can start with aerobic exercise—swimming is the best way to get fit.”

“Then we’ll add some strength training. If you’re interested, we can teach you some basic self-defense.”

Zhuang Chen was all too happy to agree. After breakfast, he headed straight to the club.

On the eleventh floor, he found a national-standard pool, filled with mineral water, and had the whole place to himself.

“Mr. Zhuang, I’m Miao Rui, your personal trainer.”

A young and beautiful coach, her eyes lit up at the sight of the tall, well-built Zhuang Chen in swim trunks—rarely did such affluent, impressive men appear here.

By now, Zhuang Chen was used to the steady stream of attractive women around him. He smiled, “I only know how to dog paddle.”

“No problem. Once you’re in the water, leave everything to me!” Miao Rui’s smile was open and bright as she led him poolside. “Let’s warm up first—stretch those muscles to prevent cramps.”

An athlete’s figure was truly enviable, especially in a swimsuit—not only curvaceous but with long, powerful legs, which put Zhuang Chen in a very good mood.

Miao Rui caught the appreciative glance of the man beside her and felt a secret delight. Having found this job after retiring from the professional team, she cherished it greatly.

A swimming coach often had to work closely with clients. Even if some harbored impure thoughts, they were all successful people who could usually maintain decorum.

At first, it was awkward, but with time, everyone grew more relaxed. Many veterans had shared that, when it came to matters between men and women, if you were attracted to each other, money and status mattered little—mutual consent was everything.

Today, luck was with her. Not only was Mr. Zhuang a premium member, he was tall and robust, exuding a masculine charm that made her heart flutter.

After ten minutes of warm-up, Zhuang Chen entered the water. The temperature was perfect, the pool crystal clear. He’d learned a bit of dog paddle before, but now flailed awkwardly, managing only not to drown.

“Relax... don’t be nervous!” Miao Rui quickly swam to his side, wrapped her arms around him to help him balance, and encouraged, “Good, kick your feet—yes, just like that.”

Zhuang Chen took a deep breath, kicking steadily, and soon found his rhythm. In the cool water, the sensation of the girl’s soft warmth sent a tremor through him.

“Good, hold my hand—yes, now start paddling...”

“Very good, keep going, lower your head a bit...”

“Nice, put more strength into your arms, sweep the water outwards...”

Xia Long watched Zhuang Chen’s somewhat clumsy movements, exchanged a smile with Xia Hu, and thought that after more than a decade as bodyguards, this was the easiest time. The new boss was young, but certainly impressive.

“Come, wrap your hands around my waist—yes, a little lower!”

Zhuang Chen took a deep breath at the surface, plunged his head under, and gripped Miao Rui’s slender waist, straightening his back and floating up.

“That’s it, keep kicking, don’t stop!”

Miao Rui felt a strange sensation at her waist, her legs softening, but she bit her lip and focused, helping Zhuang Chen practice. Soon, they found their rhythm and swam more and more smoothly.