Who gave this heretical practitioner permission to cook?

Chapter 22: The first blood gate opens; the format for the third round is...
"What kind of master are you? You go out and participate in a variety show, and your own father doesn't even recognize you?"

Hearing the voice coming from the phone, Xia Ming suddenly realized what was happening.

The man in front of me does look about 80% like the master chef, but the age doesn't match. The master chef always appears to be a man in his fifties, but the man in front of me is obviously younger.

Although his hair was also white, it wasn't as white as the master chef's. Moreover, his eyes and brows exuded the aura of a drunkard. Although the master chef drank, he would never get himself into such a state.

So, the person opposite him really wasn't the head chef, but rather the somewhat annoying father from the original owner's memories.

Xia Ming remembered that he and his father used to have a good relationship. It seemed that when he was 8 years old, his father suddenly started drinking heavily for some reason. In addition, his mother died suddenly from an acute illness, so the father and son became more and more estranged.

To be honest, Xia Ming couldn't understand this feeling because he was an orphan from the Nine Provinces Continent. From the time he could remember, he had been locked in a cage and sold as a commodity.
After a life of wandering, his life only brightened slightly after he stumbled upon the Blood Blade Sect and met his master.

Looking at his father, who bore a striking resemblance to the master chef, on the other end of the video, Xia Ming remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.

"How could that be? I was just a little tired. By the way, is something wrong that's keeping you up so late?"

Upon hearing Xia Ming's words, Xia Minhui chuckled and then let out a burp.

"I was just worried about you, so I video-called to check on you."

Xia Ming pursed his lips. According to his memory, Xia Minhui usually wouldn't call first, unless...
"Alright, tell me, are you out of money for playing cards?"

Xia Minhui waved his hand to indicate that it wasn't true, but Xia Ming wasn't entirely convinced.

He sighed, thinking of the master chef, and then of how he had essentially replaced the original owner of this body. He shook his head and then transferred 1000 yuan to his father via WeChat.

"Here are the flowers. Play cards smaller, and drink less alcohol—it's bad for your health. I have a match tomorrow, so you should get some rest."

"There's so much, I'll spend it."

"If you can't spend it all, then spend it for a while longer, or buy some better wine. Okay, bye~"

After saying that, Xia Ming hung up the video call.

After pausing for a moment, he smiled.

"Forget it, whatever the conflict was before, let's just let it go because you look like the head chef."

Actually, he thought it wasn't bad. After all, he had been the master and apprentice in his previous life. This time, trying to be the father and son with someone who looked similar should be a new experience.

If he hadn't been so clueless about the word "father," he probably would have talked a little longer.

"Never mind, let's talk about it later. We have plenty of time."

"The most urgent thing now is to go back to my room and eat, and then start practicing the 'Blood Fusion Demon Cultivation Method' so that I can open the first 'Blood Gate' before the competition. That way, I'll be able to use some of the techniques."

Thinking of this, Xia Ming took the food he bought and returned to his room.

"Inside the now-closed 'Brother Hui's General Store' in Sichuan and Chongqing"

Xia Minhui looked at the 1000 yuan sent to him in the green message with a strange expression.

"When did this kid become so good at being filial to me? Could it be that he's had a change of heart after going out for a while?"

Sensing something was amiss, Xia Minhui sipped his wine and ate peanuts, pondering for a long time, but still couldn't figure out what was going on.

He wasn't actually going to ask Xia Ming for money today; he just saw Xia Ming's performance on a variety show on his phone and wanted to call and ask about it.

But before he could ask, he accepted Xia Ming's 1000 yuan transfer without fully understanding what was going on.

"I remember before I even got 500 from this kid, he would haggle for ages. Today he's in a good mood, but that makes sense, it's his first time participating in a competition, that's how it is. But... soy milk and balut, how did this kid come up with that!"

With a smile, Xia Minhui reached for more peanuts with his chopsticks, only to find that they were all gone.

Looking at the half-finished bottle of wine, he paused for a moment, and then suddenly smiled.

"Alright, this brat's finally turned over a new leaf; he's not spending all his time chasing women anymore. Forget who taught him the skills, we're in a good mood today, let's make an exception."

He sighed after speaking, and when he opened his eyes again, the smell of alcohol seemed to have inexplicably dissipated. Now sober, he grabbed a handful of peanuts from a white bag in the corner, then turned on the kitchen light.
As he walked step by step toward the stove, his entire demeanor underwent a dramatic transformation.

As the stove was lit and plenty of oil was poured into the pan, Xia Minhui suddenly exuded the aura of a master chef.

Soak peanuts in cold water for twelve minutes, then boil and rinse them. Fry them in cold oil. Take the knife next to you, wave your hand gently, and neatly place the ingredients into the oil. Fry the peanuts until they are crispy, turning them three times in the oil.

On the other side, take fresh ginger and garlic, chop them, and stir-fry them in a pot with dried chili peppers until fragrant. Add peanuts and 11 kinds of spices, then pour hot oil over them, add a little liquor, and mix well.

Listening to the clinking sound of peanuts being poured into a plate, Xia Minhui muttered something to himself in a daze.

"The 'Drunken Peanuts' dish is complete. Please enjoy."

While the peanuts were being fried until crispy and crumbly, Xia Ming was sitting cross-legged on the bed, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

There is no spiritual energy in the city, so he cannot cultivate through external spiritual energy. If he only extracts and converts it from his blood, it will be a hundred times more difficult than in the Nine Provinces Continent.

Even though this body perfectly met the standards of a demonic cultivator, he still experienced extreme discomfort when he opened the "Blood Gate" for the first time.

Feeling the droplets of blood surging in his dantian, his brow gradually turned red, and then his whole body began to turn red.

He considered himself to have "superior" comprehension in the Nine Provinces Continent. He remembered opening three Blood Gates on the very day he entered the Blood Blade Sect, but now he hadn't even found the first one.
Holding my breath and concentrating, I felt every inch of my flesh and blood again, and finally found a breakthrough in my hands.

Large beads of sweat dripped down his hair, completely soaking the sheets. Xia Ming focused all his divine sense on his hands.

The original red color on his body gradually faded, and his arms began to emit heat as if they were being roasted. Finally, as a bloody image flashed through his mind, his arms trembled slightly, and then a bloody mark appeared on both arms at the same time.

Looking at the mark on the back of his arm, which resembled a tattoo, Xia Ming breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finally, finally I've stepped through this door!"

As he spoke, the marks on his arm gradually faded, and after half a minute, they had completely disappeared.

"If the first blood gate is this difficult, how much blood will it take to open the 100th or 500th gate?"

He understood that the blood spirit of domesticated poultry and livestock raised using technology could not be too strong due to their age. In the early stages, it was possible to compensate for the lack of quality with quantity, but once they reached the Qi Refining stage, the effect would likely decline drastically.

"So first gain fame, then make money, use quantity to compensate for quality, and then try to get some creatures with purer bloodlines or longer lifespans to prepare for later cultivation."

He knew that according to Chinese regulations, many creatures were protected animals and could not be killed indiscriminately. However, this planet was not just China; the endless ocean and some isolated islands and countries did not need to abide by this regulation.

Xia Ming dislikes rigidity and rules, but he does not reject order, because if there were no so-called order in the Nine Provinces, mortals would have almost no chance of survival.

He didn't see anything wrong with the Chinese system. It was rich in resources, orderly, and had a long history of schools of thought, making it a perfect "cave dwelling" for studying any skill.

After reaping the benefits overseas, returning to a peaceful "cave dwelling" to digest them is also a very good option.

Feeling that his entire arm had nearly three times the strength it had before the Blood Gate opened, Xia Ming smiled slightly.

"In this way, we can selectively use several moves that involve the arms."

"As for cultivation, let's start with the 'beginner' stage and move on to the 'initial understanding' stage. As for what comes later, we can always participate in foreign variety shows."

"I remember people hunting animals and then cooking them, right? Even if it's a protected animal, if I was lucky enough to find a carcass, it can't be my fault, can it?"

After stretching his arms to make sure the Blood Gate was open, Xia Ming pushed open the bathroom door. He needed to take a shower and then get some rest.

He must win tomorrow's match.

As the incandescent lights shone again on the competition field, the 11 chefs and 11 contestants stood side by side on either side of the field.

To their right was a huge black cylinder, and to their left were three large, enclosed shipping containers.

As the live stream began, the familiar announcements rang out from the stadium.

"Congratulations to the 11 chefs and 11 contestants for successfully advancing to our third round of competition. The format for this round is..."

As the broadcast paused deliberately, the large screens on either side of them instantly began scrolling, eventually settling on "Team Competition".
(End of this chapter)