After several days of effort, Zhao Yonghe looked at the plate of Kung Pao Chicken in front of him, his eyes brimming with pride. At this point, the flavor was identical to the dish from ‘A Spoonful Moment’.

Without delay, he had a massive banner put up outside to advertise the dish, aiming to draw in crowds with the now-famous Kung Pao Chicken.

By evening, Qiao Lu arrived at the alleyway and noticed that the Yonghe Restaurant had also started serving Kung Pao Chicken. Business was booming, and she couldn’t help but feel a hint of doubt.

When she reached ‘A Spoonful Moment’, she saw that there were still only a few customers in the shop. Walking up to Qin Feng, she asked, “Boss, did you know the restaurant next door is also selling Kung Pao Chicken? What’s going on here?”

“They probably ate here once and then went back to replicate it,” Qin Feng replied calmly, completely unbothered.

“Aren’t you mad? That’s outright recipe theft! They didn’t even bother giving you a heads-up!”

Qiao Lu felt indignant on his behalf.

“This Kung Pao Chicken was my creation. If someone learned to make it after trying it, that’s normal. There’s nothing to be angry about—this is the charm of culinary art.”

Qin Feng smiled faintly. After all, it wasn’t like the dish was a secret, proprietary recipe. If it had been, then it would indeed be theft.

Seeing how serene he was, Qiao Lu crossed her arms and said, “Now that Yonghe Restaurant is serving Kung Pao Chicken, and they’re open all day long, everyone wanting to eat it will go there. Who would come here? Plus, if you launch a new dish in the future, they’ll just copy it again. You’re basically making free creations for them!”

Hearing this, Qin Feng fell into thought. He hadn’t considered this scenario. If things continued like this, ‘A Spoonful Moment’ wouldn’t have room to grow. However, there wasn’t much he could do about Yonghe Restaurant’s actions.

Standing up, he said as he walked toward the door, “Let’s go. We’ll see how much they’ve really learned.”

When Qin Feng and Qiao Lu arrived at Yonghe Restaurant, they saw that it was bustling—almost completely packed.

They found a seat, and Qin Feng called a waiter over to order several dishes, including the Kung Pao Chicken. He then casually asked, “Your business seems great. I heard this Kung Pao Chicken is very delicious. Is that true?”

“Of course! You’ll know after trying it. I’m not exaggerating—this dish is our boss’s masterpiece, developed over ten years. You won’t regret it. I guarantee you’ll want seconds!”

The waiter enthusiastically praised the dish.

“What? Ten years?”

Qiao Lu was fuming when she heard the waiter claim the dish was their boss’s creation. She slammed the table and stood up, but Qin Feng pulled her back down.

Qin Feng had initially thought they were simply copying the dish. He hadn’t expected them to outright claim it as their own creation. That was truly shameless.

“You’re just going to let this slide?”

Qiao Lu was even more upset than Qin Feng, ready to drag their boss out for a public confrontation.

“Don’t get worked up. Stay calm,” Qin Feng said with a composed expression. There was no way he would let this matter drop.

Soon, the waiter brought out their order.

Looking at the Kung Pao Chicken on the table, Qin Feng noted that from its appearance, it seemed indistinguishable from the original.

“It really does look exactly like yours,” Qiao Lu said, surprised after taking a bite.

Qin Feng tasted it as well. The flavor was identical to what he made. But this didn’t surprise him—anyone willing to put in effort could replicate the dish.

Leaning closer, Qiao Lu whispered, “What now? They’ve stolen your dish and are raking in the benefits. It’s infuriating. Tomorrow is Friday. I think you shouldn’t launch any new dishes—it’ll just get stolen again.”

Qin Feng didn’t make a decision right away. He needed to go back and plan carefully.

“Boss Qin, what do you think of this Kung Pao Chicken?”

At that moment, Zhao Yonghe approached them with a smug grin, clearly delighted by the full house.

“It’s good. Exactly like what I make,” Qin Feng replied with a faint smile, laced with mockery.

“Haha, enjoy your meal,” Zhao Yonghe said with an awkward laugh before quickly walking away. Inwardly, he thought, Soon, everyone will know that this dish was my creation. As for that brat Qin Feng? He’ll just have to swallow his bitterness.

Not long after, two people walked in—one holding a microphone, the other carrying a camera.

“Reporter Yao, welcome, welcome!”

Upon seeing them, Zhao Yonghe hurriedly greeted them with enthusiasm.

“Boss Zhao, hello. I’m from Jianghai City TV. We heard you’ve created a wildly popular dish, so we came to do an interview. Judging by the crowd here, it seems the dish really is a hit,” said Yao Hao, glancing around at the bustling restaurant.

“Thank you, Reporter Yao, for gracing our humble establishment. This way, please,” Zhao Yonghe said, grinning so broadly his face practically split. He was already picturing how the TV report would make his Kung Pao Chicken famous, overshadowing anything Qin Feng could do.

Seeing the shameless Zhao Yonghe bring in reporters, Qiao Lu couldn’t hold back anymore. She walked over to the interviewing reporter and said, “Reporter, let me tell you something. This dish was stolen from someone else, but their boss dares to claim it as his own creation!”

Hearing this, Yao Hao’s interest was piqued. Reporters weren’t afraid of disputes—they only worried about not having big enough ones. He immediately turned to Zhao Yonghe and asked, “Boss Zhao, is this true?”

“Reporter Yao, don’t listen to her nonsense. That small restaurant next door sent someone pretending to be a customer to steal this dish from us. Now they’re here to stir up trouble,” Zhao Yonghe said, having already prepared a response.

“You… you dare to turn the tables!”

Qiao Lu pointed at Zhao Yonghe, trembling with anger.

Seeing the heated argument, Yao Hao quickly intervened. “You both claim to be in the right, but unless there’s concrete evidence, it’s hard to tell who actually created the dish.”

Hearing this, Zhao Yonghe felt uneasy. That Qin brat is too young to have invented such a refined dish unless he has some sort of secret recipe. If he produces it, I’ll be exposed.

To cover himself, he proposed, “It’s just a dish. There’s no need for all this fuss. Let’s settle this with skill. We’ll have a cooking contest—whoever wins gets the claim to this Kung Pao Chicken. No complaints, agreed?”

“Fine, no problem.”

Qin Feng walked over, his confidence evident. If it was about other things, he might hesitate, but when it came to cooking, he was unbeatable.

“No need to delay—let’s do it tomorrow. Two dishes: fish and tofu. How about it?”

“Deal.”