First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 114
Chapter 114: Applause
If we're talking about performances, ancient Chinese knife skills and stir-frying techniques are quite distinctive. Like the chef before, who also chose Chinese cuisine. But they arrived too late—by the time they got there, the big moves had already been executed, leaving them only enough time to whip up a plate of scallion beef.
Lian Sheng used to excel at knife work when cooking. To train the strength and fine control of her wrists, she underwent specialized long-term practice. But truthfully, she never really studied proper cooking methods, let alone had the time to delve into traditional dishes.
She only knew the basics—frying, stir-frying, steaming, boiling. When it came to her own cooking, she'd just toss oil or water into a pan, throw in ingredients and seasonings, and pull it off the heat as soon as it was done. As for when to add what, how much seasoning to use, or how thick to slice things—none of those details ever mattered to her before.
Her knife skills were mostly for show, to make her seem unfathomably skilled.
That said, her cooking was genuinely delicious. In one word, it had a "homely" flavor.
Originally, when invited, she had planned to go to Zhao Zhuoluo's home to cook New Year's Eve dinner for them. To avoid any mishaps, she first searched online to teach herself a few recipes and then tried replicating them.
Wanting to save face—though she wasn't lacking in that department—she chose dishes that required advanced knife skills but relatively less experience.
Before long, Zhao Zhuoluo came running back and handed her the bag she'd brought. She had packed her own knife and a few jars of homemade sauces. Just in case the flavors veered into strange territory, the sauces could cover it up.
Sauce flavors are incredibly complex. Depending on the ingredients and ratios, countless variations can emerge. Some require long marination, while others are quick to make.
Lian Sheng casually whipped up a meat sauce, a chili sauce, and also brought some vinegar she had previously seasoned.
Zhao Zhuoluo eyed her skeptically. "You... really know how to cook? Don't force yourself."
Lian Sheng said, "I've researched it professionally. There shouldn't be any problems."
She believed the flavor variations would remain within controllable limits.
After setting out what she needed, Zhao Zhuoluo took her bag back to their seats.
Fang Jianchen glanced at the stage and reached for the menu. "Before her dishes arrive, let's order something to cushion our stomachs. Just in case... the poisoning runs too deep."
"Lian Sheng can cook," Lu Mingyuan said. "She made food for our team during training before. At the very least, her knife skills are excellent."
Hundred Meter Flying Dagger sat up straight. "Really?"
Zhao's father said, "Let's order first. Half an hour isn't enough to make many dishes. There are eleven of us."
By his estimate, two dishes would already be impressive. They'd definitely need to order more.
"Want scallion beef?" Zhao's father said amiably. "Then let's order a plate of scallion beef first."
Within minutes, the guy at the neighboring station was asked to step down—he'd accidentally cut his index finger while using the kitchen knife, deemed a safety hazard. Another had burned something in his pan and was also dismissed. New guests took their places.
The staff managing the restaurant kept glancing at Lian Sheng, eager to witness the legendary skills of an unlicensed top-tier chef. Was this for real?
After some delay, Lian Sheng finally got to work.
She first grabbed a box of beef, then gathered scallions, ginger, garlic, chili, and other seasonings. Drawing her kitchen knife from its sheath, she wiped it clean with a towel.
Clearly, she was making the scallion beef Fang Jianchen had been eyeing.
Noticing this, Fang Jianchen swiftly canceled their order before the kitchen could process it, waiting instead for Lian Sheng's dish.
Lian Sheng pressed down on the beef with her left hand and began slicing with her right. One cut, one slice—blazingly fast. A pound of meat was fully prepped in under two minutes.
At this speed, it seemed like she was cutting randomly. But zooming in, one could see her blade precisely followed the grain, each slice uniformly thin—no thicker than a millimeter.
Meat is tricky for many to cut—not soft enough, not firm enough. Press too hard, and it deforms; too light, and the knife won't bite.
After slicing, Lian Sheng scooped up the beef with her knife, blocked it with her hand, and deftly tossed it into a bowl. She added egg whites and salt, mixing with her left hand while pouring oil into the pan with her right.
Then she grabbed the chili, ginger, and garlic. A rhythmic series of crisp "clangs" later, the green and red chilies were diagonally sliced.
Using the knife to push the ingredients aside, she tested the oil's heat and began adding the beef slices. As soon as they changed color, she fished them out to drain. After pouring out most of the oil, she sautéed the aromatics, then added seasonings and chilies.
Lian Sheng tossed in her homemade vinegar and half a spoon of chili sauce. Instantly, the aroma wafted through the steam, making nearby diners exclaim, "Damn, that smells amazing! Even better than the last plate!"
Lian Sheng had already added the beef back in and was flipping the wok.
The fiery waves of heat carried the unique fragrance of the chili sauce—a complex blend of spices hard to describe simply.
Those nearby inhaled deeply, trying to place the familiar yet distinctive scent, but Lian Sheng was already plating up.
A robot carried their dish over as Lu Mingyuan and the others couldn't help but cheer.
After finishing one dish, Lian Sheng kept the flame going and returned the wok to the stove.
A staff member opened their mouth to speak but hesitated. Without pause, Lian Sheng added more oil, one hand on the wok handle, the other prepping ingredients for the next dish.
She tilted the wok to swirl the oil, releasing a faint charred aroma—the remnants of the previous sauce.
Once the heat was right, she dumped in the prepped shrimp. After stirring in seasonings, she covered the wok. Moving to another burner, she boiled water for dessert.
How many dishes could she make in half an hour? As many as possible—the simpler, the better.
Lian Sheng multitasked. After the shrimp, she stir-fried clams.
In under ten minutes, three dishes were served.
Fast hands! Fast knife!
Her expressionless yet precise movements marked her as a seasoned veteran!
Originally, multiple stations were displayed, letting viewers choose which to watch. But Lian Sheng's spectacle drew so much attention that people turned their screens to her.
Fang Jianchen and the others picked up their chopsticks for the first bite.
The tender, spicy beef instantly awakened their taste buds. Just spicy enough to whet the appetite—utterly addictive.
"So good! Seriously good!" Fang Jianchen bit his chopsticks in delight.
It was piping hot. Everyone blew on their bites while nodding vigorously.
Other diners stared enviously, eyes darting between the screen and their table.
"If it's so good, why aren't you freaking out? Don't you know the rules?"
"College life for some. And mine? God."
"Before school, I hoped my roommate would be a neat freak so I could benefit. Instead, I got one who didn't wash his socks for a month. Reality versus expectations."
"Rent out this sister! I'll trade you my useless brother!"
"Hey, guys... let me have a bite..."
Their table had ten people (excluding Lian Sheng). Though the plates looked full, among hungry young men, they vanished in seconds. No leftovers to share.
"After two bites, I'm hungrier," Lu Mingyuan said, rubbing his stomach. "Let's get some rice first."
While they talked, the second dish—spicy shrimp—arrived.
Chopsticks dove in before they could be set down.
Lu Mingyuan asked, "Should we save some for Lian Sheng?"
"By the time she's done, it'll be cold," Hundred Meter Flying Dagger said. "We'll order her fresh stuff later. Let's finish this first."
Then came the third, fourth dishes. Between mouthfuls of rice, they realized the food was arriving faster than if they'd ordered normally.
A staff member approached. "Miss, could you attempt a high-difficulty dish?"
Her speed came from prioritizing efficiency, but her skill suggested hidden depths.
"Give us a showstopper," they said, "and your table's meal is free."
Lian Sheng stirred the papaya dessert soup with a spoon, wiped her hands, and asked, "Want to see knife skills?"
The crowd nodded eagerly.
"Hmm..." Lian Sheng drawled. "Fine. But I'm rusty."
"What could you do when you weren't rusty?" a diner asked. "Legendary... Wensi tofu?"
His neighbor scoffed, "You only know Wensi tofu? Not all shredded tofu is Wensi tofu! Don't pressure her!"
The man waved him off. "Then forget 'Wensi'—just shred it. I love watching tofu get shredded."
"Buddy, the restaurant's covering the bill, but the audience is everyone here," another interjected. "But I also want to see tofu shredding. Can you, little sister?"
The staff member watched hopefully. Though expectations weren't sky-high, even rough cuts would make good publicity.
Lian Sheng remained unfazed. "Fine. But first, tell my friends their meal's free so they can order while I work."
Staff: "..."
Mid-bite, the group froze at the news.
Hundred Meter Flying Dagger wiped his mouth and smiled. "One of everything, please."
Nearby diners gritted their teeth. These guys were shameless!
Lian Sheng took out a block of tofu, testing its texture with a cut. Wensi tofu demands not just knife skills but perfect tofu.
Satisfied, she dipped her knife in water, sprinkled some on the board, and stretched her neck.
She'd only recently learned this dish. In terms of knife work, it was her toughest challenge yet—requiring not just skill but unbroken focus.
But her wrist training for precision and strength made the technique familiar.
Left index finger bracing the blade, Lian Sheng closed her eyes briefly before beginning.
Her long, slender fingers rested lightly on the tofu, tendons and bones visible. Watching her hands work was mesmerizing.
Yet her rapid cuts left observers wondering—was she truly confident, or just winging it?
The crowd held its breath as she sliced the tofu, then shredded it.
Finally, she lifted the tofu into a black bowl, gently loosening it with chopsticks.
At first glance, it seemed clumped—a failure. But as she worked, the strands separated like clouds, delicate yet distinct.
She swirled it in water until fully dispersed, then lifted a strand for all to see.
Hair-thin. Authentic Wensi tofu. No tricks—just skill.
Applause broke out, building into cheers.
"Why am I emotional? Little sister, swap contact info!"
"Incredible! Are you training to be a chef?"
"Bright future! That knife work takes serious dedication—better than most pros!"
"But do chefs even need knife skills these days?"
"If we think nothing's needed, no wonder jobs go to AI. What's rare is this spirit! Keep it up."
Zhao Zhuoluo and the others were stunned.
This wasn't about good knife skills anymore. Which cheat code was she using?
Her talent was blinding!
Lian Sheng washed her tools, ignoring the chatter.
Become a chef? Please. She was destined to conquer the world.
She stopped there, having fulfilled the staff's request for a demonstration.
Wensi tofu is mild, relying on exquisite broth for its melt-in-the-mouth magic. But with no time for proper broth, flavor was irrelevant.
Besides, her half-hour slot was up. Other chefs were waiting.
Though a master chef would be impressive, a mysterious young woman was far more intriguing.
As she prepared to leave, the crowd protested.
"Finish it! Don't waste it!"
"I'll pay! 5,000 star coins—complete it!"
"6,000 here! Keep going!"
She walked out, knife in hand, silencing the room.
"It's her personal knife," a staff member whispered. "No need to panic."
Under their gazes, Lian Sheng calmly collected her jars and returned to her seat.
Her friends cleared a wide space.
"Chef."
"Goddess."
"Legend."
"General!"
"This lowly one was blind to your greatness. Forgive me."
They reverently pushed dishes toward her. "Please!"
"Hahaha, seeing how outstanding you all are together makes me happy," Zhao's father said. "Eat up. May your friendship last a lifetime."
"Order whatever," Hundred Meter Flying Dagger said, picking his teeth. "My treat."
Lian Sheng: "..."
She'd earned that free meal!
The tofu she'd prepped was used by the next chef, who finished the dish with premade broth and served it to their table.
Their earlier binge left them stuffed in under ninety minutes.
To free up seats, they left after eating.
The cold wind outside the warm restaurant made them shiver.
They sat on stone steps in the central district, waiting for midnight.
Virtual fireworks lit the sky, silent blooms overhead.
Fang Jianchen watched the colored sky. "Next year, I hope to be in military training."
The others echoed him.
Hundred Meter Flying Dagger: "Me too."
They turned to stare.
"What?" He raised a brow. "I'm in my prime—plenty of time to start over."
Lian Sheng: "Next year, I hope to be in Expeditionary Force combat."
They turned again.
Bright Bulb: "Next year, I hope our studio has fewer delusional clients."
Super Bright Bulb: "Then I hope this year, we have none."
Make it reality by achieving it.
Lian Sheng glanced aside. "Uncle Zhao?"
"Can't keep up with you kids." He smiled. "Next year, I hope you all find partners."
Everyone: "..." First New Year's gut punch.
As cheers of "Happy New Year!" rose, they joined in.
Fireworks faded. The crowd thinned. Laughter quieted.
Lian Sheng stood, brushing off her pants. "Going home."
She still had a report to write for Colonel Lin Lie.
Checking the time, the group dispersed with waves.
"Alliance New Calendar Year 336, Day One—the happiest New Year's Eve with friends."
—Lian Sheng
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Ty for the update!
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