Chapter 5 The Imperial Kitchen

Zhuo Chen laughed heartily, finding it quite interesting, and pressed further, "How many rooms are there?"

Manager Hu, proud and knowledgeable, began his introduction, "After the reform and opening up, there was no concept of star-rated hotels in the mainland, and Diaoyutai itself is a uniquely scenic classical garden. The designers modeled it after the garden villas of Jiangnan."

"Back then, time was tight and resources in the capital were limited, so skilled craftsmen from all over the country had to be mobilized. For instance, the furniture for the State Guesthouse was custom-made in Shanghai, the carpets in Tianjin, silk fabrics from Suzhou, and the porcelain tableware from Jingdezhen."

He then pointed to a building outside the car window, saying, "That is Building 18, the Presidential Suite. It only hosts international dignitaries and is generally not open to others."

Zhuo Chen turned his head, gazing at the enigmatic Villa 18. Its architecture resembled an imperial palace, with a roof of yellow glazed tiles and green painted beams and carved pillars encircling it. The building was three stories high, resplendent under neon lights, radiating opulence and grandeur.

Manager Hu smiled, "Of course, apart from the Presidential Suite, the other seventeen villas each have their own unique features and styles. All are modern buildings. The ground floor is typically a reception room, equipped with a dining area or conference hall."

"Our policy is not to designate a Building One, to express equality and harmony..."

"To respect European customs, there is no Building Thirteen..."

"Considering our cultural traditions, Fragrant Garden replaces Building Seventeen, Eight Directions Garden replaces Building Four..."

"Building Two faces the central lake to the west and the cherry orchard to the south. Inside, there are leader suites, luxury suites, regular rooms, and twenty-seven standard guest rooms..."

"This is Building Twelve, facing Fragrant Garden. Its main hall features Liu Haisu's famous giant landscape painting, 'Magnificent Rivers and Mountains.' There are artificial hills, streams, bubbling springs, ponds, and rare flowers. It was once home to the founding leaders; President Reagan and Mrs. Thatcher also stayed here..."

"President Nixon came to China for his historic ice-breaking visit, meeting with the Chairman and Premier. He stayed in Building 18. At the banquet, he even showcased the chopstick skills he'd practiced for over half a year..."

"In September 1982, Mrs. Thatcher visited China and stayed in Building Twelve. On her way to the Great Hall of the People, the elderly lady even stumbled on the steps..."

As they drove along, Zhuo Chen listened and observed, finding each building with its own distinctive style. Truly worthy of being the State Guesthouse—every room bore a notable history.

The car came to a gentle stop. Manager Hu got out, opened the car door for Zhuo Chen, and explained, "This is Building Six, located at the northwest corner. The stream from Jade Deep Pool flows right in front of the villa."

Zhuo Chen turned, peering through the dense woods, and caught a glimpse of emerald waters—a truly romantic sight, like a jade belt wrapping around the waist.

Entering the ground floor reception hall, he found it bright and imposing, with two rows of genuine leather sofas and a red wool carpet underfoot, exuding a sense of wealth and dignity.

Suddenly, Zhuo Chen caught a familiar subtle fragrance. He walked to the massive antique display shelf on the right, marveled at its robust and elegant form, and exclaimed, "Is this... rosewood?"

"Indeed, you have a keen eye," Manager Hu replied from behind, smiling, "All the furniture in the State Guesthouse is made of hardwood—the lowest grade is chicken-wing wood, while the presidential suites feature rosewood and huanghuali."

Zhuo Chen took a deep breath, the unique sweet scent of rosewood refreshing his spirit. His master had loved bead bracelets, always fondling them; even ordinary rosewood beads cost several hundred, let alone such a gigantic antique shelf.

There was a Ming Xuande blue-and-white platter with a bouquet rim,
A Qing Yongzheng doucai chicken cup,
A Qianlong kiln-transmutation pomegranate vase.

Zhuo Chen beheld the dazzling array of antiques on the shelf—all genuine, all classified as second-grade cultural relics. This was true heritage.

To his left stood a massive tea table for guests to rest and drink tea. The ghost-face pattern on its surface was crafted from a single piece of huanghuali; even the stool beneath him was made with Qianlong era cloisonné enamel craftsmanship...

This was understated luxury at its finest!

Manager Hu led Zhuo Chen upstairs to the presidential suite. As the door swung open, the atmosphere of luxury and warmth unfolded across four hundred square meters.

The spacious octagonal double-height lounge, with floor-to-ceiling windows, offered sweeping views of the elegant landscape and historical charm outside.

Stepping into the bedroom, he found on the left a panoramic, ultra-luxurious bathroom facing the central lake, equipped with a double massage bathtub, a sauna shower room, and a fully automated bidet.

There was a ten-person dining room, a private study, a walk-in wardrobe, a master bedroom with a marble bathroom, and a spacious leisure hall with guest bath.

The master bedroom was lavish and comfortable, with separate walk-in closets and dressing rooms on both sides, as well as an independent, private SPA room.

Manager Hu instructed the bellboy to set down the shopping bags, then came up behind Zhuo Chen and spoke softly, "Would you like to rest first? If you need anything, just press the service bell. We are at your service twenty-four hours a day."

Zhuo Chen nodded, watching the three depart, then let out a long breath. He entered the bathroom, where even the taps were gilded, and enjoyed a relaxing hot shower.

Feeling refreshed, he changed into new leisurewear and lay on the soft bed, his stomach growling—only then did he realize he hadn't had a proper meal all day.

He pressed the service bell, and Manager Hu soon knocked and entered. Zhuo Chen glanced at his watch and asked, "What's for dinner?"

"Would you prefer to dine in your suite, or...?" Manager Hu explained, "The presidential suite always has ten chefs on standby, offering all eight major cuisines. The Western dishes are excellent too; we just received top-quality filet steak and cellar-aged red wine. What do you think?"

Zhuo Chen stood up; it was only eight o'clock. Staying here was to fulfill his master's dream, and as a chef himself, he wouldn't miss the opportunity to sample the culinary artistry of the Imperial Kitchen.

He went downstairs to the dining room, where he was the only guest tonight. He took the menu—each page listed the chef's name—and after flipping through a few, he casually asked, "Any recommendations?"

"What are your usual preferences?" Manager Hu inquired. "Our chefs draw from the strengths of all eight major cuisines and incorporate the finest dishes from around the world. From imperial recipes to local street snacks, the greatest feature is their freshness and subtlety, harmonious and lingering."

"Typically, it's Chinese cuisine served in Western style—seven courses, two pastries, and a fruit dish. The craftsmanship is exquisite and the flavors are superb."

"As for personal recommendations, Chef Zhang Yunshan's skills are widely praised. You might want to try his dishes."

Zhuo Chen flipped back to the first page—clearly the head chef. The menu focused on Huaiyang cuisine. He ordered, "Braised fresh abalone with Liaoning sea cucumber, steamed fish with gastrodia, clear mushroom soup..."

"Yes, add a stir-fried double vegetable, rice as the staple, and a bowl of plain porridge."

Manager Hu noted the order, took the menu, and said, "Our fresh fruit platter is also a specialty. Would you care to try it?"

Zhuo Chen nodded, and the kitchen began preparations. Manager Hu stood nearby, always ready to assist. The tableware was custom-made from Jingdezhen, with imperial yellow backgrounds and blue-and-white patterns—truly regal.

He raised the teacup—pre-rain Dragon Well tea, its freshness filling his mouth. Unable to resist, he asked, "Who is the best chef here, and what is their name?"