Chapter 68: Wang Sheng's Journey to the Back Kitchen

Chapter 68: Wang Sheng's Kitchen Journey

The head housekeeper hung up the phone. As she walked toward Wang Sheng's room, she spoke into her lapel mic: "Manager Zhou, Manager Zhou. The guest in Executive Suite 6788, Gao Yun, has brought a private chef who has requested a dedicated stove to prepare a customized nutritional meal. Please contact the kitchen immediately and have a workstation cleared. I'll be bringing him over shortly."

"What was that?"

Manager Zhou didn't catch it clearly. After the housekeeper repeated herself, he sighed, "Understood, understood, these wealthy people..." The rest of his words trailed off into a murmur. He immediately twisted the dial on his walkie-talkie, switched to the kitchen channel, and called out, "Chef Zhao, are there any free stoves right now?"

"...Of course there are, it's not even mealtime."

Judging by his accent, Chef Zhao was clearly from Sichuan Province. His voice sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up. "What is it?"

"A guest's private chef needs to borrow the kitchen. When he arrives, give him whatever ingredients he asks for and just log the expenses."

"Oh ho."

Chef Zhao woke up instantly, letting out a hum. "How arrogant. Looking down on the skills of our hotel chefs?"

"I checked the record. He hasn't stayed at our hotel before. Probably just some wealthy person with peculiar habits who insists on having a nutritional meal made by his personal chef."

"Fine, bring him over. I'd like to see what kind of standards this private chef actually has."

Chef Zhao rolled out of bed, his eyes rolling with a mischievous smile as he went around banging on the doors of the other chefs' dormitories. "Wake up, wake up! Some punk is coming to challenge us!"

***

Wang Sheng, dressed in sweatpants and a short-sleeved shirt, arrived in the kitchen under the guidance of the head housekeeper. More than thirty chefs, led by Chef Zhao, stood around to watch the spectacle. Four chefs on duty were still cutting vegetables and kneading dough at other stations, but their eyes kept drifting over as well.

"Let's just use this empty one."

Wang Sheng pointed casually, picking the cleanest workstation among the surrounding stoves, which happened to be Chef Zhao's usual cooking spot.

"...Huh."

"... Boss, he's using your stove!"

The other chefs struggled to hold back their laughter. In the middle of the crowd, Chef Zhao gave a heavy cough. "All of you, watch closely and see how a private chef cooks! Learn something!"

The head housekeeper asked, "What ingredients do you need? You can tell me, and I'll have the kitchen prepare them for you."

"Wait, let me consult the nutritionist."

Wang Sheng paid no attention to the surrounding crowd of onlookers. He pulled out his phone and made an overseas call to Carida. After a moment, the call connected, and he spoke in English.

"Hi, sorry, Carida. Did I interrupt your rest?"

It was the middle of the night in the US, and Carida sounded listless and muddled. "Uh-huh, it's fine. Is there some sudden situation with the boss?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't be disturbing you. We are out with the boss; he's working out right now and needs to eat his nutritional meal in an hour. Two and a half hours after that, he has a dinner banquet and might drink alcohol, so I think today's menu needs to change."

"Aha." Carida's tone was deeply annoyed. "Fine, fine. Let me check my computer and calculate how to arrange things. Don't hang up."

"Okay!"

While waiting for Carida to open her computer, pull up Gao Yun's file, and recalculate his nutritional intake, the kitchen fell completely silent, save for the rhythmic *thud-thud-thud* of kitchen knives striking cutting boards. No one spoke.

Everyone present shared a profound sense of having their horizons broadened. Since when did cooking no longer depend on what the chef thought tasted good? Did it actually require a special phone call to a foreign nutritionist?

Listening to that fluent English, what was international style? What was high-end, atmospheric, and top-tier? This was it!

"This is the boss's second workout and his last workout of the day, right?"

"That's right."

"Then, do you know what he will be eating two and a half hours later, and what specific foods?"

"Roast duck, wrapped in a kind of flatbread, eaten with mixed vegetables and dipping sauce."

"Uh-huh, I've had roast duck, I've had it. Then, what kind of alcohol will he drink?"

"Not sure."

"Hmm..."

The sound of rapid keyboard clicking came through the phone. A moment later, Carida said, "To ensure the boss still has room in his stomach for the subsequent banquet, the total calorie intake for this meal must be reduced by 40%, and fat compressed to as close to zero as possible. Thirty minutes before he starts drinking, make a cup of warm milk mixed with forty grams of kudzu root powder. This will protect his gastric mucosa and provide a certain degree of hangover relief. After he finishes drinking, brew a cup of kudzu water for further hangover relief."

"However, I believe that with Yun's self-discipline, he won't drink too much, so you can adjust it depending on the situation."

"Got it. But Carida, the fact that you know about kudzu root really surprises me..."

Kudzu root was a traditional Chinese medicine known for generating fluids, relieving thirst, and clearing meridians. Yet in the United States, no one paid any attention to it. Ironically, the local soil and climate were extremely suitable for kudzu, causing it to run rampant and spread wildly, blocking out other crops and causing massive damage to local agriculture. The Americans were completely helpless against it and could only resort to burning it every year.

Carida let out a helpless, pleading sigh. "Dear Wang, I am a PhD in Human Nutrition from Columbia University. It's fine if ordinary people don't know about it, but if I didn't even know what kudzu root was, America probably wouldn't have any hope left."

"Okay, okay, the hope of America, you're amazing! Haha."

"The menu has already been sent to your email. After the banquet, let me know the boss's nutrient and alcohol intake, and I'll make adjustments accordingly."

"Alright, good night."

"Good night~"

The head housekeeper stood to the side, listening to the entire exchange while trembling inwardly. Her perception of the upper limits of luxury in the lives of the wealthy was refreshed yet again.

"Making a Columbia University PhD work for him, and waking someone up for overtime in the middle of the night?"

"Just because of going out for a single meal, the entire diet plan has to change and be readjusted? I yield!"

A five-star hotel inevitably hosted foreign guests, so her job requirements dictated that she must speak English. She had heard every single word of the conversation clearly and distinctly. Looking around at the whispering chefs, she felt a mixture of commiseration and absurd humor.

"What are they saying? Who speaks English?"

"No idea. None of us can!"

"What's a nutritionist? Can they boss the chef around?"

The head housekeeper sneered inwardly. *You group of ignorant humans, just stay blissfully ignorant. The more you know, the more troubles you have.*

"Kudzu root powder, we have that, right?"

"This..." The housekeeper glanced at Chef Zhao.

"We do. Er'er, go get it."

Chef Zhao thought to himself that food ultimately came down to skill and substance. So what if a cook could speak English? What was the use of all those fancy tricks?!

Wang Sheng looked over the email sent by Carida, feeling that there was quite a bit of overlap with ingredients he had used before.

"We're at a five-star hotel now; making the boss eat these plain things is unreasonable! I still want a pay raise!"

He calculated in his mind that while keeping the nutritional intake identical, he could swap in some higher-grade ingredients.

Having made up his mind, Wang Sheng told them to prepare a variety of ingredients...