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The kitchen just happened to have two stoves, very closely placed—it was the kind of close where an exaggerated flip of the spatula could easily bump into the person next to you.

The rice was harder than leftover rice from the night before, and the pickles were a mysterious kind, enthusiastically recommended by Ji Yue but whose taste remained unknown to everyone. Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang stood at an impasse in the kitchen, one wearing a blue apron, the other in green, one 1.7 meters tall, the other 1.9 meters.

Jiang Feng could only be relieved that Ji Xue and Ji Yue didn’t like pink, or else the two of them facing each other in pink aprons in the kitchen would have been a bit too much for him to handle.

The battle in the kitchen was about to erupt, while the war outside the kitchen had already begun.

“My Zhang Guanghang makes fried rice that is truly exceptional. His French wild mushroom fried rice gets a lot of positive reviews,” Ji Yue said, with a slight smile.

“My Fengfeng’s egg fried rice from his UAL University days was also very popular,” retorted Wu Minqi, unwilling to be outdone.

“Egg fried rice and pickle fried rice are completely different. Every time your Jiang Feng tries a new dish, it ends in a flop. I think this time is a bit risky,” Ji Yue said, feigning concern with a hypocritical expression.

“That won’t happen, my Fengfeng knows his pickles well. His pickle dumplings are delicious, so pickle fried rice will definitely not be a problem. On the other hand, your Zhang Guanghang hasn’t been in the country for years and has had relatively little contact with this kind of ingredient. A chef not being familiar with the ingredients is a big taboo in cooking, and I am indeed a bit worried for him,” Wu Minqi started to tell some blatant lies with her eyes open.

Ji Xue: ???

In the kitchen, Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang had clear divisions of labor, with Jiang Feng chopping the pickles and Zhang Guanghang separating the rice.

As Jiang Feng chopped the pickles, he recognized what kind they were—they looked a lot like the pickled cabbage from the North, but the texture and taste were completely different: not sour but crunchier, completely unlike the traditional Shanghai greens and pickled crimson potherb. They were best enjoyed with food. When pickling, one couldn’t use large jars but only small ones, and they had to be placed in a cool spot, fetching one out whenever desired to eat.

But Mrs. Wang Xiulian hadn’t made this type of pickle in a long time, mainly because there weren’t enough jars at home. Each jar could hold at most three cabbages, and they had to be smaller ones. Given the Jiang Family Members’ appetites, they would finish one in two days; after waiting painstakingly for a month or two, a jar would be gone in a week. Such a loss-making pickling method didn’t match Mrs. Wang Xiulian’s style, and besides, these jars took up too much space—if pickled in excess, there’d be no room at home.

Jiang Feng chopped the already julienned pickles even finer, while Zhang Guanghang had already portioned out the leftover rice from the refrigerator into two equal parts.

“Do you need any help?” Zhang Guanghang asked.

“No need; a small amount of pickle is enough for this bit of rice—just chopping them finely will do,” Jiang Feng declined.

After Jiang Feng finished chopping the pickles, he too divided them into equal portions. The two almost simultaneously ignited the burners and heated the oil in their pans.

When frying rice, one mustn’t use too much oil. Although more oil can make the rice smell aromatic, it’s the smell of oil, not rice. If after eating a portion of fried rice there’s a layer of oil left on the bottom of the plate, it won’t be fragrant but rather greasy. Moreover, it’s high in calories and not particularly healthy—not a good strategy at all.

Thanks to a famous food anime that has accompanied a generation, as soon as most people think of fried rice, their first reaction is egg fried rice. This has led many culinary novels to start off with a master-level golden egg fried rice, like the one Wang Hao previously wrote, a concocted food story based on Jiang Feng.

If one were to ask whether there really is the legendary golden egg fried rice in this world, it couldn’t be said that there isn’t. The egg fried rice reportedly favored by Empress Dowager Cixi was exactly that golden egg fried rice, and it was literally golden at that—where the chef’s exceptional skills allowed the egg mixture to evenly coat each grain of rice, with every egg-wrapped grain capable of forming threads. Such a dish required the chef’s technique and ingredients to be the finest, even the firewood used for cooking had to be top-quality tributes, worth more than gold—truly a golden egg fried rice.

For most people, enjoying a ten-dollar egg fried rice is enough to praise the restaurant owner as honest if they are willing to include a whole egg. Unless you’re dining at a fancy restaurant, it’s almost unthinkable to spend more than twenty dollars on a plate of fried rice.

In the face of such trends in fried rice, if a customer still asked a chef to create a legendary golden egg fried rice, they’d likely get their head knocked with a frying pan and spatula.

Concerning fried rice, there are many well-known basics, the foremost being that the rice has to be leftover from the previous day. Overnight rice is fully rehydrated, its starch aged, making it the perfect ingredient for fried rice that is tender yet non-sticky, with grains that are distinct yet connected like broken strands of lotus roots.

Once the oil in the pan was hot, Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang added the pickles at nearly the same time. In the world of pickle fried rice, although the pickle is mentioned first, the core is still the rice. So, the quantity of pickles can’t be too little or too much—just enough for people to taste the flavor while eating the fried rice, the skill in tossing and stirring being the key.

Within a mere ten seconds or so, the tantalizing aroma of the pickles sautéed in hot oil was released.

After the scent permeated, the next step was to add the cold rice to the pan.

This action was also nearly synchronized, with both men standing side by side in front of their pans, even their movements somewhat identical.

From here on, all the fancy steps of making pickle fried rice were complete, and what followed was a test of the chef’s real skill—stir-frying.

As is commonly known, stir-frying is a manifestation of Fire Control.

There’s a well-known fact in Taifeng’s back kitchen, and only partially known in the lobby, that Jiang Feng’s Fire Control was not as good as Zhang Guanghang’s.

Even though both Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang currently possessed master-level Fire Control, Jiang Feng’s was still slightly inferior. But there was no helping it—his proficiency in Fire Control was only just under 60,000, barely past 1/20 of the progress bar. Zhang Guanghang was six years older than Jiang Feng, which implied at least six more years of cooking experience—his being stronger was perfectly normal.

Minutes later, two large portions of pickle fried rice were served up from their pans.

Neither of them moved a muscle, simultaneously reaching for spoons.

Jiang Feng scooped up a small spoonful of Zhang Guanghang’s pickled vegetable fried rice and was immediately taken aback as it touched his taste buds.

Fragrant.

The first impression this fried rice gave was its fragrance, not just the rice itself, but the pickles as well. The fried rice wasn’t oily, and upon chewing, the texture of the rice and the crunchiness of the pickles stood out. Moreover, the more he ate, the more fragrant it became, the finer the chew, while the pickles’ slight sourness and spiciness were fully exhibited in the dish.

The more Jiang Feng chewed, the more shocked he became; how had he never noticed Zhang Guanghang’s skill in making fried rice before? To be able to make such delicious pickled vegetable fried rice, this young man was truly not to be underestimated and could not be left unchecked.

Then Jiang Feng scooped a spoonful of his own fried rice.

Fragrant!

Delicious!

It was just as delicious as Zhang Guanghang’s pickled vegetable fried rice. Equally matchless in taste, it did not conform to his usual level of fried rice.

What was going on?

Could it be that both of them possessed exceptional fried rice talents that just happened to manifest today?

Thus, in silence, the two of them gazed at the fried rice before them, only their cheeks moving as they chewed. From afar, they seemed like a still image.

“Orchid’s mom really makes exceptional pickles,” Zhang Guanghang exclaimed after a while.

Orchid is Ji Yue’s English name, meaning “lanhua” in Chinese. Such an English name, hardly resembling a typical name, objectively and comprehensively reflects Ji Yue’s level of English.

Jiang Feng nodded in agreement, “Right, truly exceptional.”

The deliciousness of these two servings of pickled vegetable fried rice was entirely due to the superb pickling skills of Ji Yue’s mom, no wonder Ji Yue had gained weight to 99.6 pounds after just a few days at home.

This meal might just tip the scale over a hundred.

Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang brought out the pickled vegetable fried rice.

“Let’s start with the fried rice,” Jiang Feng said.

Ji Yue had been starving at the mere scent of the fried rice. She hadn’t felt hungry before because she hadn’t smelled any food, but now that she caught the aroma of the pickled vegetable fried rice, she felt like a homeless person who hadn’t eaten for three days, wanting to bite into anything she saw, almost opening up a jar of pickled garlic to snack on.

“This is the taste, the fried rice with my mom’s pickles has this exact taste, my mom’s pickles are so delicious!” Ji Yue sat down at the table, scooped up a full spoonful, and stuffed it into her mouth, squinting her eyes in bliss.

“Ah, the pickles my mom makes are really too delicious!”

Wu Minqi: ???

Sister, have you forgotten what we were comparing just a few minutes ago?

Wu Minqi picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and gulped it down.

“My God, your mom’s pickles are really too delicious,” Wu Minqi exclaimed sincerely.

Ji Xue, who had been mostly clueless throughout the event, also grabbed a spoon and took a scoop.

“Really, these pickles are definitely the best I’ve ever eaten!” Ji Xue echoed in utter agreement.

Jiang Feng and Zhang Guanghang also nodded, saying in unison, “Ji Yue’s mom’s pickles are really delicious.”

The winner of this Taifeng Building young chef’s grand competition is—

Ji Yue’s mom!

Let’s give a round of applause to Ji Yue’s mom, who is at home, figuring out how to brew vinegar.