Courtyard House: In times of famine, my hamster became a spirit.

Zhou Jianguo drained the blanched tofu cubes.

Immediately afterwards, he picked up the bucket of "Special Supply Pure Fragrant Peanut Oil" with one hand and poured the oil into the hot iron pot again.

The oil temperature rises.

Zhou Jianguo lowered his eyelids slightly, the oil in the pan changed from calm to ripples, fine bubbles rose around the edge of the pan, and the first wisp of very faint smoke was just about to gather in the center.

Without even needing to think, muscle memory reacts a millisecond before the brain issues the command.

With his left hand, he grabbed the minced meat that had already been chopped on the cutting board—it was taken from the tenderloin that Sha Zhu had left behind, with a 3:7 ratio of fat to lean meat, and he chopped it into standard granules the size of mung beans with extremely fast hand speed.

"Sizzle—!!!"

The minced meat was added to the pot, making a crisp sound.

If it were an ordinary cook, they would be frantically stirring the meat at this point, afraid it would stick to the pan.

But Zhou Jianguo did not.

He gripped the heavy cast-iron pot handle with one hand, pressed his wrist down, and using the stove as a fulcrum, flicked it upwards.

The golden minced meat traced a perfect parabola in the air, each piece rapidly dehydrating, shrinking, and browning under high temperature.

"Stir-fry over high heat to force out the moisture, leaving only the aroma of fat."

The minced meat tumbled and bounced in the iron pot, and in just over ten seconds, it became crispy, fragrant, and dry, releasing clear and transparent oil.

Meanwhile, outside the heavy spring door of the kitchen.

Several heads were piled up like a human pyramid against the door crack, as if they wanted to gouge their eyes out and stuff them in to look.

"Did you hear that? Such a loud noise!"

Ma Hua's face was pressed against the doorframe, his features contorted with jealousy and hatred. He lowered his voice and said viciously, "This isn't cooking! Judging from the noise, anyone who didn't know better would think he was forging steel in there! With a fire this strong, the minced meat would burn in three seconds!"

A young kitchen helper next to him shrank back, sniffed, and muttered, "Brother Ma, something's not right... this oil smell is a bit too strong..."

"What the hell!" Ma Hua glared at him, spitting as he spoke. "That's the smell of raw oil! Don't you understand? You idiot Zhu... I mean, my master taught me that the key to good meat sauce is to make it crispy but not burnt. What does a sledgehammer-wielding guy like him know? Just wait, in two minutes at most, black smoke will be billowing out! When Factory Director Li comes down to complain, we'll just say this kid set the kitchen on fire!"

As MCA was speaking enthusiastically, he was even mentally rehearsing the scene of rushing in to "put out the fire" and then trampling Zhou Jianguo underfoot to humiliate him.

Just then.

Zhou Jianguo, who was inside the door, picked up the simple pottery jar.

Pixian Doubanjiang (Pixian chili bean paste).

This is the soul of Sichuan cuisine.

Without the slightest hesitation, Zhou Jianguo flipped his wrist and precisely poured a large spoonful of bright red and oily fermented soybean paste into the boiling oil.

"boom--"

Hot oil fully activates the red oil and ester aromatic substances in the fermented soybean paste.

Immediately afterwards, a complex aroma radiated wildly outwards in a nuclear explosion-like pattern, centered on the iron pot!

It's not just spicy; it's a flavor that combines the aroma of soy sauce, fat, and caramel!

The smell wafted out through the cracks in the door, the keyhole, and even through the grain of the wooden planks.

Outside.

The MCA, who was opening their mouths to continue cursing, seemed to have their throats gripped by an invisible hand.

"Cough...cough cough cough!"

He coughed violently a few times, choked by the sudden, strong aroma.

"Gulp."

"What...what is this smell?!" The young kitchen helper next to him stared wide-eyed, his nostrils flared to their limit as he greedily inhaled the air. "Brother Ma...this...this doesn't smell burnt...it smells amazing! It's at least ten times more fragrant than the broth Master Zhu used to make!"

"Shut up!"

Ma Hua's face turned pale, and he shouted to stop him, but his voice trembled, a tremor that even he himself could see.

He's an expert.

It was precisely because he was an expert that he was even more desperate.

Just by smelling it, he knew that this pot of red oil base, with its extreme control over the heat, was something that neither he, Ma Hua, nor even his boastful master, He Yuzhu, had ever made in his entire life!

"Impossible... Hallucination, this must be a hallucination... It must be the oil! Yes, he stole the special-supply oil!" Ma Hua leaned against the wall, pinching his thigh, trying to use the pain to deny the fact that he smelled it.

However, Zhou Jianguo inside did not give them a chance to catch their breath.

Zhou Jianguo remained calm, his left hand flitting about like a butterfly among flowers as he picked up the seasonings.

Sprinkle in the chopped chili powder.

The layers of spiciness are brought out.

Finally, he reached for the glass bottle containing the [Primary Spirit Spring Water].

"Sizzle—"

The spring water was poured in along the edge of the scalding pot.

If the aroma of the chili oil just now was a physical bombardment, then the high-temperature steam generated by the spring water entering the pot is a magical, dimensional attack.

The steam did not dissipate; instead, it carried all the aromas from the pot, and under the catalysis of the spiritual spring water, a wondrous reaction occurred.

It was like a dragon, passing through the food preparation room, skimming over the canteen hall, following the ventilation ducts, and even drifting to the edge of the distant workshop.

Outside the cafeteria.

Several workshop foremen who were on their way to get lunch stopped in their tracks.

"Old Zhang, can you smell that?" A chubby director sniffed, looking completely intoxicated. "Who cooked this? This is too much! It's making my mouth water!"

"Something's not right. Wasn't the canteen serving cornbread and cabbage soup today? This tastes...authentic Sichuan cuisine? When did our factory get a state banquet chef of this caliber?"

Several workers who had just finished work swallowed hard, their stomachs, which had been numb from exhaustion, now protesting loudly.

"This smell is amazing...just one whiff and I can eat two more steamed buns!"

"Stop smelling it, it's making me hungrier. Let's hurry up and get some food. They're definitely giving the boss special treatment. We don't have that kind of luck."

The aroma continued to spread, and eventually, it irresistibly found its way into the closed-door reception room at the end of the corridor.

Inside the private room.

The top leader sat in the main seat, his weathered face showing some dissatisfaction.

His fingers tapped the table unconsciously, "tap, tap, tap," each sound like a blow to Li Huaide's heart.

"Is this how your steel rolling mill operates?"

The high-ranking leader finally spoke, his voice carrying the authority and coldness of someone long accustomed to a position of power: "A simple meal has kept me waiting for almost an hour. What, is your chef doing embroidery, or building an atomic bomb?"

Li Huaide's shirt was completely soaked through at this point.

He was hunched over, his face plastered with a stiff smile, and his legs were trembling.

"Old boss...please...please calm down. This...the new head chef is quite particular; slow and steady wins the race. It'll be ready soon, very soon..."

Li Huaide said this, but in his heart he cursed Zhou Jianguo's ancestors for eighteen generations.

Judging from the big boss's attitude, he'd probably slam his fist on the table and storm out any second, let alone eat.

Promotion?

Whether he can keep his position as deputy factory director is a question!

The senior leader snorted coldly, gripped the handrails, and was about to stand up: "I don't think there's any need to wait. The factory's management is clearly lacking, especially since they can't even arrange a meal."

"No! Boss!" Li Huaide was terrified and instinctively wanted to reach out to stop him, but he didn't dare.

Just as the top leader stood up.

The spicy and savory aroma, infused with the steam from the spiritual spring, filled his nostrils.

The leader's movements suddenly stopped.

His eyes, which had been filled with anger and disappointment, suddenly widened, and his nostrils twitched violently twice.

"Um?"

A questioning voice with a heavy nasal tone.

Immediately afterwards, the high-ranking leader slowly sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and greedily took a deep breath.

What does it taste like?

That's the taste of home.

"That's right!"

The big boss slammed his hand on the table, so hard that the teacup jumped, but there wasn't a trace of anger on his face.

Instead, there was an extremely surprising red light.

"This flavor is absolutely authentic! The numbing spiciness and rich aroma are just right! No doubt about it!"

The high-ranking leader pointed to the doorway, his voice booming like a bell: "Little Li, this chef is something else! This flavor... I've been searching for it all these years in Beijing, and apart from those few retired imperial chefs, no one has been able to capture this soul!"

Li Huaide slumped into the chair, panting heavily, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

The bet was won.

Damn it, Zhou Jianguo is amazing! This wave of wins is simply incredible!