“You say this place doesn’t even look like a restaurant at all—just a hype machine. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Young man, you shouldn’t have such ideas. Learn to cook more dishes instead. Opening a restaurant with just one dish? You’d be better off going home and dreaming.”

A sneer crept across Zhang Min’s face as she continued her endless tirade.

“One dish is enough for my restaurant.”

Qin Feng’s confident response carried a weight that dared anyone to question it.

“One dish? That’s like a toad yawning—talk about an overblown ego.”

Zhang Min chuckled mockingly. She’d seen plenty of people like him—big talkers with no real ability to back it up.

Pulling up a chair, Qin Feng smiled with interest. “If you don’t believe me, how about a bet? I’ll cook one dish, and if you don’t end up eating it, I lose. You can smash my restaurant sign if I fail.”

“And if you win?”

Zhang Min asked, a bit startled by his confidence. However, thinking about it, she figured there was no way this hole-in-the-wall restaurant could make anything impressive. She’d simply refuse to eat, and he’d lose.

“If you do eat it, that dish will cost you ten thousand yuan.”

Qin Feng’s calm reply left everyone stunned.

“What’s your dish made of? Gold?” Zhang Min stood abruptly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Sipping his tea, Qin Feng replied indifferently, “You insulted my restaurant without cause. If you want to taste my cooking, that’s the price you’ll have to pay.”

Caught off guard, Zhang Min hesitated. After all, he sounded so confident. But brushing off her doubts, she smirked and said, “Fine, it’s a deal. Today I’ll make sure to smash your sign.”

The other diners in the restaurant perked up with excitement, eager to see how things would unfold.

“Who do you think will win? If she just refuses to eat, Qin Feng might lose.”

“But we all know how amazing Qin Feng’s cooking is. I don’t think she can really hold out.”

“True, but ten thousand yuan for a single dish isn’t cheap!”

“Well, serves her right for running her mouth as soon as she walked in.”

Seeing Zhang Min agree, Qin Feng headed to the kitchen. He grabbed a few eggs and began preparing.

“Shifu, what are you going to make? She’s obviously going to hold back and not eat,” asked Qiao Lu, watching from the side.

Qin Feng smiled and said, “You have to trust in the irresistible charm of good food. I’m going to make egg fried rice.”

“Egg fried rice? That simple?”

Qiao Lu’s face lit up with surprise. In her mind, this was the time for an elaborate dish, something grandiose for the occasion.

“No dish is simple—it all depends on the chef’s skill.”

With that, Qin Feng mixed the eggs with the rice, heated the wok, and began frying.

When the dish was placed in front of Zhang Min, she froze. The egg fried rice shimmered with a golden hue, each grain of rice distinct and separate, like an edible work of art.

“How can fried rice look this beautiful? Ugh, it’s so infuriating!”

The other customers craned their necks to get a better look at the dish.

“Seriously, how did he fry rice like that?”

Regaining her composure, Zhang Min stared at the dish, disbelief written all over her face.

“With enough skill, frying rice like this isn’t hard,” Qin Feng said casually as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to start. He trusted his cooking—it was impossible for anyone to resist, especially a dish that had reached the pinnacle of egg fried rice: golden on the outside, pure white on the inside.

Grumble

Zhang Min’s stomach betrayed her, growling loudly. Embarrassed, she closed her eyes, trying to resist the urge to eat. But with her eyes shut, the aroma of the fried rice only became more intoxicating.

The tension in the room was palpable. The other diners watched intently, holding their breath to see if she’d take a bite. Qin Feng, however, was as calm as ever, sipping his tea. Zhang Min, meanwhile, inched closer and closer to the plate, her resolve weakening by the second.

Smack

Suddenly, Zhang Min slammed a stack of bills onto the table, grabbed the fried rice, and began devouring it.

“Enjoy your meal,” Qin Feng said, pocketing the money before heading back to the kitchen.

“Sister, how is it? Good?”

The crowd gathered around Zhang Min, their mouths watering as they watched her relish the dish.

Ignoring them, Zhang Min continued to eat, finishing the entire plate in no time. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she stood up and headed for the kitchen.

“Sorry, but the kitchen is off-limits to customers,” Qiao Lu stopped her at the door.

“Then call him out. I need to talk to him,” Zhang Min said, returning to her seat.

A few moments later, Qin Feng emerged, standing before her.

“You wanted to see me?”

Zhang Min handed him her business card, introducing herself. “Hello, let me formally introduce myself. I’m Zhang Min, the editor-in-chief of Global Gourmet Magazine. Your egg fried rice is exceptional, and I’d like to invite you for an interview with our magazine.”

“Not interested,” Qin Feng replied without hesitation.

Zhang Min was stunned. Global Gourmet was the most prestigious magazine in the culinary world, a platform every chef dreamed of being featured in. She couldn’t believe he’d turn it down so casually.

“Don’t you want the honor of being in our magazine?” she asked again.

Spreading his hands, Qin Feng replied, “Nope.”

“You—!”

Furious, Zhang Min was at a loss for words. She couldn’t understand how a chef could reject such an opportunity.

Even Qiao Lu stepped in, whispering, “Shifu, if you’re featured, our restaurant could instantly become famous!”

“Fame doesn’t need a magazine. I can make this restaurant famous anytime,” Qin Feng said confidently. He’d had enough of the limelight in his past life and now just wanted a peaceful life.

Zhang Min, though exasperated, couldn’t help but admire his attitude. People who were so indifferent to fame and fortune were rare. Handing him her card, she said, “Here’s my card. I believe we’ll meet again.”

Qin Feng simply smiled, tossing the card into his pocket before heading back to the kitchen.