Chapter Thirty-Seven: Flavors So Delicious They’ll Send You to Heaven

Brazilian long sword barbecue is a classic Western dish. Though simple in its preparation, it demands extraordinary precision in controlling the heat. Since this was in ancient times and meant for Chinese diners, the meat could not be served at varying degrees of doneness as in the West; it had to be fully cooked.

But achieving “well done” was not as simple as roasting the meat until it was tough and dry, especially with such a large quantity of beef. The skill lay in roasting it to about seventy percent doneness, then letting it rest at room temperature. The residual heat within the meat would continue to cook it until the internal temperature dropped to fifty degrees, at which point the meat reached the perfect threshold of being fully cooked.

This was the ideal, flawless well-done beef.

Such perfection required an uncanny mastery over time and the transformation of the meat. Even a single extra second on the fire, or a marginal increase in heat, would cause more juices to escape, diminishing the flavor.

In truth, the challenge of preparing perfect well-done roast beef far surpassed that of rare, medium-rare, or medium versions.

The aroma that filled the air was intoxicating, stirring the souls of those present. From their expressions alone, it was clear that the three—Wang Jingze, Qi Guli, and Chen Xianda—were barely able to contain their eagerness.

“Come, let me slice the beef for you,” Ming Tian said.

To showcase his professionalism as a chef, Ming Tian cut the beef before them, carefully pairing it with just the right proportion of vegetables.

“A dish’s success isn’t determined by aroma alone,” Qi Guli said, restraining his excitement as he picked up a piece of beef.

In his chopsticks, the piece—barely the size of a finger—yielded to the slightest pressure, releasing juices as if it were an overripe persimmon. Even Qi Guli, worldly and experienced, was astounded by the succulence.

How could this beef be so juicy?

He wasn’t alone in his amazement; Wang Jingze and Chen Xianda beside him were equally astonished.

“Please, enjoy,” Ming Tian said with a flourish, generous and self-assured.

These three old gentlemen, he thought, if my cooking cannot conquer you, then I am not fit for this profession!

The three each took a piece and placed it in their mouths simultaneously—

Boom!

A tidal wave erupted before their eyes, an explosive surge of flavor crashing over them!

What was this? Water? No—it was a flood of deliciousness!

The rich, fatty beef, the freshness of the vegetables, and the smoky char all melded together, shattering a lifetime’s understanding of food in an instant.

“This… this is…”

Qi Guli, the eldest and supposedly the most composed, managed to begin speaking, but a fountain of saliva burst from his mouth.

His hands and feet trembled, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the floor in a faint.

After ten seconds or so—

“Ah!” With a gasp for breath, Qi Guli sprang upright like a startled lobster, panting and sweating profusely.

“I… I… I saw God!” he stammered, his voice quivering. “What did I just witness? Was that a deity? What is happening?”

Who could say what vision he had seen? One thing was certain—

He had hallucinated from the sheer deliciousness!

The other two, Wang Jingze and Chen Xianda, had lost all semblance of their dignified bearing. They moaned with closed eyes, overwhelmed by ecstasy.

“This… this… Ming Tian, are you the God of Food incarnate?” Wang Jingze babbled incoherently, the flavor so astonishing that he could not maintain his regal composure. The technique of marinating before roasting was unheard of in this era, making the experience all the more transformative.

Even the wise and composed Chen Xianda was now crying tears of joy.

“Ah, after so many years in office, this meat reminds me of my mother’s cooking!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes and reciting poetry: “The fragrance of beef, the freshness of vegetables, rich but never greasy, savory but not salty… As one gazes at the bright moon, one remembers home—good meat, good meat.”

Wait, isn’t that Li Bai’s poem? Li Bai’s grandmother hasn’t even been born yet in this era! Is eating meat about to send you traveling through time as well?

Faced with their reactions, Ming Tian was both amused and bewildered.

You three old men, this is just barbecue. My true specialty—Chinese cuisine—hasn’t even been served yet! One of you ascends to heaven, another becomes mentally incapacitated, and the third travels through time? If I prepare my best dishes, will you die of ecstasy right here?

He pondered these thoughts, but the truth was undeniable: the dish had conquered these three titans.

With a sword strung with meat, the three no longer resembled dignitaries, but rather famine-stricken refugees, fighting over every morsel.

When the meat was gone, Qi Guli, like a child, leaned over the table to lick the remaining juices from the sword. Ming Tian felt that if he died from overeating, he would do so with a smile.

Once sated, the three turned their attention to the bamboo tube rice Ming Tian introduced.

They had thought the barbecue was already the pinnacle of culinary delight, but the moment the bamboo tube was opened, a surge of golden light nearly blinded them.

No, it wasn’t light—it was the aroma so intense that it gave the illusion of brilliance.

The fragrance, trapped within the bamboo, burst forth like an untamed steed, rampaging through the room.

Though they had just eaten their fill, Wang Jingze, Qi Guli, and Chen Xianda felt as though another stomach had grown within them, their appetites rekindled.

And then—

Two hours later, dawn was breaking.

In the lotus pavilion of the Lanling County Governor’s residence—

“Ming Tian.”

Wang Jingze took a sip of tea, frowned, and spat it out in front of Ming Tian.

Having tasted Ming Tian’s cooking, Wang Jingze now found everything he’d eaten before to be filth, and the tea worse than urine—utterly undrinkable.

He exhaled deeply, regretfully patting Ming Tian on the shoulder.

“Let me tell you, Ming Tian, it’s one thing to cook delicious food, but you shouldn’t make it so extraordinary that Chen Xianda and Qi Guli fainted on the spot!”

Ming Tian recognized the scolding as a veiled, highest praise.

That bamboo tube rice was refreshing and exquisite, a flavor beyond mortal comprehension.

So much so that Qi Guli and Chen Xianda fainted after just one bite!

Especially the elderly Qi Guli, who even stopped breathing for over ten seconds.

As for Chen Xianda, he managed to utter only four words before losing consciousness:

“My life is fulfilled!”

Bear in mind, Chen Xianda, like Wang Jingze, was a military man.

Had Wang Jingze not possessed Qi Guli’s composure and Chen Xianda’s robust constitution, he too would have joined them on their journey to the hereafter.

Now, all the doctors in Lanling County had gathered to examine Qi Guli and Chen Xianda, but all were helpless.

Their diagnosis: the two officials were not comatose, but simply unwilling to awaken!

Ming Tian now felt some relief.

Thankfully, due to limited conditions, he hadn’t prepared his signature Chinese dishes. Otherwise, the three might have eaten themselves to death.

If, by some chance, making food too delicious led to the death of three imperial officials, what crime would that be? It seemed that neither ancient nor modern law addressed such a possibility.

“Commander Wang, you exaggerate. The kitchen is no place for a gentleman, and my skills are but humble arts unworthy of much notice,” Ming Tian replied, maintaining both confidence and humility.

Wang Jingze shook his head and smiled. “True, the kitchen is beneath the gentleman, but that only applies to those mediocre cooks out there. For someone whose culinary skills reach your heights, Ming Tian, I’d gladly abandon propriety just to eat your food!”

“Commander Wang flatters me,” Ming Tian laughed, then his expression grew serious. “Now, about rescuing the county princess…”

How the three regarded him was of little consequence; Ming Tian cared only for one thing.

The County Princess of Jiangmen, Xiao Xin Zhu—his betrothed, won by his own skill in this life.

Having died at thirty in his previous life, never having loved, Ming Tian’s desire for romance surpassed anyone’s.

Now, someone dared threaten his claim. How could Ming Tian forgive?

If Xiao Xin Zhu were to be taken by the crown prince, Ming Tian would be devastated enough to end his own life.

Thus, even if his opponents were the emperor and the crown prince, Ming Tian would never back down.

To harm his woman—never mind the emperor, even the Buddha himself would be challenged!

Having tasted Ming Tian’s cooking, Wang Jingze had no doubts left. He nodded immediately.

“Your culinary skills surpass all the chefs in the capital combined, Ming Tian. If you are truly determined to save Xin Zhu, ready to risk your life, then at dawn tomorrow, we depart for Jiankang and take the dog emperor’s life!”

…