Although their attitude had always been proper in the past, could their mindset be the same when working for themselves versus working for others?

Seeing Master Tu storming angrily, Jin Yaotiao couldn’t help but laugh.

She said, “Uncle Tu, it’s not that serious. My dad and I just feel that you’ve worked so hard, and we can’t let you feel unappreciated. It’s not just for them but also for you. Remember when my dad and I bought out Third Uncle shares recently? I plan to give you a portion of them. Over the years, you’ve trained so many apprentices and managed the Xunxiang Banquet. You deserve this.”

Master Tu instinctively refused, “I don’t want it!”

He had been personally trained by Old Master Jin and, following the traditional beliefs of the older generation, held the conviction that “once a teacher, always a father.”

After learning his craft, it was only natural for him to devote his life to the Jin family after his mentor passed away.

To be fair, Jin’s father had treated him well over the years, never being stingy with his salary.

Since Master Tu had no grand ambitions, he felt his life was good enough and never expected anything beyond what he deserved.

Jin Yaotiao shook her head. “Uncle Tu, this is a token of my dad’s and my gratitude. Please accept it. It’s not a significant portion of the shares. When Mingde does well in the future, you can use the dividends to buy things for your family.”

Master Tu was stunned, unable to find words to refuse.

At his age, how could he not have a family to support? His household included his wife, children, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren—seven or eight people.

To say they didn’t lack money at all would be unrealistic.

Not long ago, he had angrily scolded a former apprentice who had betrayed him to follow Third Uncle Jin. The apprentice, scolded into silence over the phone, later timidly called back, saying that a boss from the Cheng family was willing to pay six figures to hire him.

At the time, Master Tu berated the ungrateful wretch and hung up the phone.

But when he returned home, his wife hesitantly mentioned that their son and daughter-in-law, working in another city, wanted to buy a house for their child’s education—a huge expense.

That evening, Master Tu, who never hesitated to reprimand others in the kitchen, locked himself in his room and smoked two whole packs of cigarettes.

He kept staring at his phone but never called the apprentice back.

He knew why Cheng Shen was willing to pay such a high price to poach him.

The Jin family was struggling to stay afloat in Linjiang. If he left, many of his apprentices would likely follow, causing a significant blow to the Jin family by losing their core technical personnel.

Master Tu had always prided himself on his integrity and couldn’t bring himself to stab someone in the back.

Now, hearing Jin Yaotiao mention family, he couldn’t help but recall his wife sitting in the living room, calculating their meager savings with a worried look on her face.

Master Tu opened his mouth but said nothing.

Looking ahead, he saw Jin Yaotiao calmly pulling a tray of crispy roasted pigeon out of the oven, unlike other apprentices who feared his temper.

The roasted pigeon glistened with oil, its reddish-brown skin taut and smooth, releasing a tantalizing aroma.

Master Tu grunted, his weathered face lowering as he stirred a pot of thick sauce with his ladle.

Despite himself, a warm smile crept into his eyes as he gazed at the sauce.

This girl.

---

Jin Yaotiao set down the roasted pigeon and felt her phone buzzing in her pocket.

Taking off her oven mitts, she saw it was Rachel calling.

Rachel was waiting at the door with the same group of broadcast reporters who had previously interviewed her.

Jin Yaotiao walked out to meet them, surprised. “Sister Rae, what brings you here?”

Rachel smiled. “I heard they were coming to interview your restaurant, so I tagged along.”

Jin Yaotiao was momentarily stunned.

Mingde wasn’t particularly prestigious.

Her father had already used a favor to invite reporters for the anniversary banquet last time.

Since this time the restaurant was only in trial operation and located inside a mall, she hadn’t considered inviting reporters to create a buzz.

But now, the reporters came on their own?

And it wasn’t just any reporters—it was the top-rated local evening news crew in Linjiang. Jin Yaotiao glanced at the microphone logo, confirming her thoughts.

Rachel, though unsure why her superiors had suddenly issued such an assignment, was genuinely happy for Jin Yaotiao. “I planned to come after work, but since you call me sister, how could I not show my support?”

Jin Yaotiao glanced at Rachel’s legs, and the older woman laughed, revealing deep crow’s feet. “Don’t worry, I’m wearing warm tights today.”

The banter made Jin Yaotiao smile as well. She gestured them inside. “Come in.”

The guests waiting outside were surprised to see a group of reporters with cameras and microphones entering the restaurant.

Was Mingde that impressive? Even the most popular evening news reporters in Linjiang showed up. What restaurant opening could match this?

---

Having worked together before, the reporters were courteous to Jin Yaotiao.

Once inside, they were taken aback.

They’d done some research beforehand and knew the trial operation of the hidden banquet restaurant had received good reviews and was drawing a decent crowd. But seeing the packed restaurant in person surpassed their expectations.

For a trial operation?

This high-end restaurant, catering to a niche clientele, hadn’t even done major promotions. A newly opened, pricey restaurant with no reputation—how could it attract so many customers?

As they walked deeper inside, something felt… odd.

Why were their stomachs growling?

The aroma of food surrounded them from all directions.

The cameraman, carrying his equipment, found his gaze drawn to a steaming platter of squirrelfish carried past by a server.

The fish, with its beautifully curled tail and golden-brown, puffed-up body, was draped in a glossy red sauce.

The tangy, sweet aroma mixed with the scent of fried fish lingered in the air.

A loud grumble broke the silence.

The cameraman glanced down at his stomach.

Suddenly, a noise came from the side. Rachel turned her head towards the sound and saw two guests at a small corner table standing up hastily, their backs turned to her.

They were dressed in glamorous outfits, each worth at least five figures, but their movements carried an air of panic.

Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion.

Before she could think further, an irresistible aroma pulled her gaze in another direction.

The kitchen door swung open, and someone emerged.

Jin Yaotiao gestured for the apprentices of Master Tu to place the dishes on a temporary table.

Unsure of the reporters’ interview process, she asked, “How do your programs usually cover events like this? Are we allowed to eat the food?”

Linjing Television was a state-run channel, and its evening news was a serious program.

Interviews were typically conducted in front of the event’s main entrance, with Q&A sessions with the person in charge, followed by interviews with a few guests about their experiences.

Finally, the host would deliver a dry summary of encouraging words.

Eating? Absolutely not.

Rachel’s eyes were fixed on the roast pigeon placed in the center of the table.

The pigeon was barely larger than her fist, yet somehow contained a scent so rich and enticing. Its glossy skin was taut and wrinkle-free, the juices from its belly slowly seeping out and pooling at the bottom of the plate.

Jin Yaotiao explained, “This is our restaurant’s roasted pigeon. Don’t be fooled by its size—it’s incredibly complex to make. Before roasting, it undergoes a meticulous marination process. While roasting, the belly is sealed with a specially prepared broth, so the final dish is packed with flavor. Sister Lei, would you like to try one?”

Rachel coughed lightly and motioned for the cameraman to film.

The cameraman hesitated. “???”

Are we a food program now? Filming dishes today?

That said, the sight of the table full of delicacies had also frozen him in place.

Since the higher-ups had given the order, he might as well shoot.

Jin Yaotiao assumed this was their normal interview style.

Having worked with food programs before, she began introducing the dishes enthusiastically: “This is squirrel-shaped mandarin fish. We use the freshest mandarin fish and marinate it before frying to ensure the meat is rich in flavor. The sauce for the fish has been adjusted through multiple iterations. This is braised oxtail, selected for its perfect balance of fat and lean meat, stir-fried before braising. And this is our restaurant’s appetizer, drunken crab…”

The cameraman grew hungrier as he listened, his eyes nearly glued to the screen as he captured close-ups, his shots becoming more detailed with each frame.

Meanwhile, the reporter assigned to ask questions was seated by Jin Yaotiao and handed a pair of chopsticks. Jin Yaotiao encouraged her to take a bite.

Food programs always had hosts tasting dishes, right?

The evening news reporter blinked in confusion. “???”

Wait, this process seems off.

But the sight of the braised oxtail, which had captured her attention the moment it was placed on the table, proved irresistible. She finally picked up a piece and took a bite.

If it didn’t work out, they could just edit this part out later.

Cold oxtail, however, would be a tragedy.

The cameraman couldn’t help but ask, “How is it?”

The reporter closed her eyes, savoring the taste.

The steaming oxtail, enveloped in rich sauce, coated her taste buds.

It had been slow-cooked to the point of meltingly tender, with the braising sauce subtly enhancing the natural milky aroma of the oxtail.

She had never tasted anything so delicious.

“It’s amazing! The meat is so thick and succulent! The braising flavor is distinct from typical stews—it’s incredibly unique and flavorful!”

Jin Yaotiao nodded in satisfaction. This reporter was quite skilled at food reviews.

Rachel stood off to the side, sensing something was amiss.

Jin Yaotiao, however, discreetly handed her a roasted pigeon, assuring her it wouldn’t be caught on camera. “Sister Lei, try one first.”

Still pondering the deviations in the interview script, Rachel absently accepted the pigeon and took a bite.

The crispy skin of the pigeon was unexpectedly rich and thick.

Upon biting, the surface shattered easily, releasing a cascade of juices from beneath.

The tender pigeon meat defied description.

The broth sealed during roasting had fully infused into the meat fibers, ensuring every bite was bursting with flavor.

Unlike chicken, pigeon meat offered a distinct and satisfying savoriness due to its smaller size.

Rachel stood beside the camera, only realizing after she had devoured her second pigeon leg that she had intended to discuss the discrepancies with the production team. “…”

——

In the corner, Hu Wanyue and her friend had their heads nearly pressed to the table, avoiding the filming crew.

Hu Wanyue asked, “Are they gone? Is Jin Yaotiao gone?”

Her friend quickly glanced back. “Nope!”

Mortified, Hu Wanyue wanted to cry.

Her friend was equally uneasy. “Should we… just leave?”

Still hunched over, Hu Wanyue awkwardly picked up a piece of the squirrel-shaped mandarin fish and stuffed it into her mouth.

The sweet and tangy sauce clung thickly to the crispy skin, and the tender fish beneath practically fell apart like garlic cloves.

She took several more bites and even snapped off the crispy fish tail to munch on.

Her mouth was filled with lingering flavors.

She then grabbed a spoonful of the soft and fluffy soufflé beside her.

As the soufflé melted on her tongue, her heart clenched.

She felt as if she were dancing on the edge of a blade, but—

“No way,” she declared. “The mandarin fish and soufflé must be eaten hot. Packing it to go would ruin the taste.”

Her friend, who had sworn to start a ketogenic diet, hesitated briefly before picking up a piece of steaming cured meat and pairing it with a mouthful of rice. “You’re right.”

——

At the Linjing Broadcasting Tower.

The evening news director watched the footage in silence. “…”

The well-fed reporter, still savoring the lingering flavors, also remained silent. “…”

This was a direct order from above…

That evening, during the prime-time news slot, Linjing’s loyal audience learned about the grand opening of a local restaurant called Hidden Feast.

They were also treated to detailed close-ups of the dishes.

The shots were exquisite, like those from a high-quality documentary.

The glossy, roasted pigeon, the richly sauced oxtail, the beautifully crispy squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, and the soft, flavorful drunken crab—all seemed to emanate their aromas through the screen.

At 8 p.m., just as dinner had been fully digested.