When Liu Ming equipped the cleaver as a sub-weapon,
His current attribute panel was:
Character Name: Liu Ming
Level: 1
Strength: 7+100
Intelligence: 7+30
Agility: 5+50
Constitution: 8+100
Vitality: 59+1180
Attack Power: 20+5030
Physical Defense: 7+2.1
Magic Defense: 2
Life Recovery: 5
Skills: Advanced Swordsmanship.
Skills: Holy Shock (Grayed Out)
Skills: Holy Light (Grayed Out)
Skills: Emperor's Tongue
Sichuan Cuisine - Master
Cantonese Cuisine - Master
Shandong Cuisine - Master
Jiangsu Cuisine - Master
Zhejiang Cuisine - Grandmaster
Fujian Cuisine - Grandmaster
Hunan Cuisine - Grandmaster
Anhui Cuisine - Grandmaster
Knife Skills - Master
Heat Control - Master
Seasoning - Master
Whose cleaver is this? Could it be the Chief Imperial Chef?
No, that shouldn't be possible. Even the Chief Imperial Chef couldn't be proficient in so many cuisines.
Or is it that this knife doesn't belong to one person, but is simply a cleaver from the Imperial Kitchen?
It just existed for a long time, and many people used it,
thus gathering the strengths of several people?
"I've become proficient in the Eight Great Cuisines of China. It feels so unreal."
Liu Ming wasn't sure what these levels represented in terms of mastery.
However, just from the literal meaning, he could guess that they wouldn't be bad.
He recalled how hard he used to study cooking, but could never master it.
Now, in an instant, he had reached the level of an imperial chef.
It felt a bit ironic when he thought about it.
It's just that I'm twenty-two now, already this old.
Should I still go to Totsuki Academy and show off in front of a bunch of high school students?
It feels so shameful!
Of course, this was just a casual thought.
After all, he had already graduated from university, so it was certainly impossible for him to actually go to Totsuki Academy as a high school student.
As for being a teacher, let's forget about it.
He didn't have any impressive achievements to show off.
He couldn't just shamelessly go up to people and ask them to try his cooking.
Speaking of cooking, how strong are my cooking skills now?
"What's the use of thinking so much? Just cook a dish and it'll be clear."
Liu Ming headed straight for the kitchen on the first floor.
Opening the refrigerator, he took out a few ingredients: a potato, a carrot, and a block of frozen pork.
He thought for a moment, put the carrot back, took out a few pointed peppers, and then gathered the rest of the necessary ingredients.
Once the cooking officially began,
he didn't even need to think about how to do it;
his body instinctively took action.
The pork defrosted, the potato was peeled.
He took a cleaver from the knife rack nearby.
He focused.
After several breaths,
the potato had transformed into shredded potato.
Looking at the shredded potato on the cutting board, all of almost the same thickness and size,
Liu Ming didn't know what to say.
"Is this master-level knife skill? It's really impressive.
He used to rely on a shredder, and even then, he couldn't achieve this level."
Next up was cooking.
A spicy and sour shredded potato, and a stir-fried country-style pork.
Both dishes were relatively quick to make.
He heated the wok, added oil,
then put in the aromatics—scallions, ginger, and garlic—to fragrant them.
His movements were fluid and natural,
as if cooking had become a bodily instinct.
By the time he came back to his senses,
the spicy and sour shredded potato was already done.
Smelling the fresh aroma of potato wafting through the air,
Liu Ming's mouth watered profusely.
"Is this really a dish I made? It's too fragrant, it feels a bit like cheating.
What will it taste like?
No, there's still one more dish to make.
I'll taste it after I'm done."
He couldn't help but swallow once more.
Stir-fried country-style pork is not difficult to make, but it's not easy either.
Because it was already very late, he could only make do with frozen pork.
Although there was some difference in texture, it didn't matter.
Good sauce could enhance its deliciousness several times over.
And now Liu Ming was using an ancient recipe sauce.
If his grandfather was telling the truth, then it truly was a delicacy fit for an emperor.
After a series of swift and powerful actions,
a plate of stir-fried country-style pork, perfect in color, aroma, and taste, was served.
This time, Liu Ming couldn't hold back any longer.
He picked up a pair of chopsticks and grabbed a piece of plump, glistening pork belly.
"Mmm," the taste was absolutely incredible.
It wasn't tough at all, incredibly tender.
With one bite, the juices burst forth, and it was tender and refreshing.
And the spiciness and numbness within it,
were like a wild boar using its sharp tusks to poke at the inside of his mouth,
seemingly saying, "You stir-fried me, now I'll stir-fry you."
"That was amazing!" After Liu Ming came to his senses, he didn't care about his image.
He picked up the plate and shoveled the food into his mouth.
"Delicious, it's too delicious!
How can there be such delicious pork belly?
Oh my, and these pointed peppers too.
Put them in your mouth, chew slowly,
and immediately feel a strange, aggressive flavor, like a raging fire,
rushing straight to your throat, stimulating the root of your tongue.
Paired with the tender smoothness of the pork belly,
it was simply a delicacy on earth.
"How is it all gone?" Liu Ming looked at the empty plate, his face full of regret.
Such a delicacy, he wouldn't get tired of eating it for a lifetime.
He shifted his gaze to the spicy and sour shredded potato.
It was crystal clear, sparkling with little points of light.
Each strand was distinct, fresh, tender, and crisp.
With one bite, it was pure enjoyment.
What a pity, it was missing a bowl of rice.
If these dishes hadn't been cooked by him,
he would have suspected they were drugged.
They were truly irresistible.
Pouring a glass of water,
Liu Ming slumped into a chair.
He wasn't tired,
but his body simply wanted to lie down comfortably.
This was a manifestation of enjoyment.
Now he was convinced, his current cooking skills were truly excellent.
He hadn't used any high-end ingredients,
they were all just ordinary, commonplace ingredients.
Yet, simply by passing through his hands,
they could unleash such power.
It was a bit frightening to think about.
What would he do in the future? Just guard this Chinese Restaurant,
taking each day as it comes?
Isn't that too unmotivated?
He had a golden finger, after all.
Shouldn't he have a grand ideal?
But after being a slacker for over twenty years, it was really hard for him to feel any surge of ambition.