Food: Randomly set up stalls, even the little guy is drooling.

"I feel so lost... I'm not resigned to this. Is this all I'm capable of?" Wang Sheng cried out in his heart as he looked at his only two votes.

Just now, an elderly man named Qi Baiwei came to his stall, commented on his custard buns, and even recognized his grandmaster Xie Mancang.

He didn't react at first, but then he remembered!

Qi Baiwei! This name is well-known in the northern food scene.

Executive Director of the Food Critic Association, President of the Lucheng Branch, a true master of food and critic, an authority on the tip of the tongue.

His words and actions have a significant influence in the catering industry of Lucheng. There is even a saying that "a single praise from him is worth more than a thousand pieces of gold," meaning that a sincere compliment from him is enough to increase the value of a restaurant or a dish.

To be told "That shouldn't be the way it is" by such an important person is worse than being killed.

Just as Wang Sheng was in a fit of impotent rage, he saw the little boy who had been shouting "Ultraman" earlier giving Lu Feng three tickets at his stall. This scene deeply pierced his heart once again.

He turned to look at Hu Xi, a pastry chef also from Xingcheng, whose situation was slightly better than his.

Hu Xi makes Deyuan steamed buns, a time-honored brand originating from Xingcheng. Although it is not as famous as Biyunju, its heritage is just as good.

As the sous chef of the chain store, Hu Xi rose to prominence through her creativity. The Golden Egg and Golden Thread Roll is inspired by the Silver Thread Roll, complemented by the golden hue and aroma of eggs. Its texture combines the characteristics of the Silver Thread Roll, with a soft outer layer and a chewy, thread-like interior.

It's innovative and the taste ensures a harmonious blend of eggs and silver thread rolls, attracting some young diners who like to try new things.

Therefore, while Wang Sheng only had a paltry two votes, Hu Xi had already garnered more than a dozen votes from the diners.

During the selection process in Xingcheng, Hu Xi was already slightly better than him, which was understandable. But that guy, that attention-seeking guy, why did he use the most ordinary meat bun, something that's difficult to even taste?

Was it just because he was lucky enough to meet a bratty kid who liked Ultraman?

"Why don't I have that kind of luck?!" a resentful voice roared in his heart, but Wang Sheng then thought, "Is it really... just luck?"

Yes, his master Xie Zong is also the head chef of Biranju, so how could he really misjudge someone and easily give away a recommendation spot?

His own contempt and misunderstanding were like a leaf obscuring his view. It was nothing more than his pride preventing him from admitting it.

Could it really be a problem with my own abilities? Wang Sheng had a vague answer in his heart, but he was unwilling to believe it.

Qi Baiwei's comments still ring in my ears. He has always lived in the shadow of being the successor of Biyanju, and has always been a standout among his peers.

Before he knew it, he started to believe what others said.

They fell into a blind confidence in this inherited brand, forgetting that the brand was earned by their ancestors, but the craftsmanship was their own.

Wang Sheng picked up a custard bun listlessly and took a bite. The familiar taste was almost identical to the one she had made three years ago…

At that moment, he froze. He finally realized the problem: he hadn't made any progress in three whole years.

"Learning is like rowing against the current; if you don't advance, you fall behind." The sentence he memorized in elementary school now resonated in his mind like a warning bell.

Isn't learning to make pastries the same? If you immerse yourself in your own world and don't go out and explore, how can you know the vastness of the world?

Cold sweat soaked his back; he realized the situation but was powerless to change it.

Making custard buns from scratch now, and adjusting the proportions, would obviously take more than an hour. Besides, even if given the time, could he really make them right now?

When Wang Sheng looked at Lu Feng wearing the Ultraman mask again, his feelings became complicated. The reputation of Xingcheng's pastry industry would probably depend on Lu Feng, whom he had looked down on just a few days ago.

"Making money is hard, and getting by is even harder."

Yang Song, a Level 6 professional food critic on the Meizhong platform, couldn't help but shake his head.

In his opinion, the so-called outstanding young pastry chefs from all over the country in this pastry competition were the worst he had ever seen! Without a doubt!

He wouldn't have come if the organizing committee hadn't invited him and given him 500 yuan for travel expenses!

Along the way, he would try any stall that appealed to him in terms of color, aroma, or smell. So, after wandering around for half an hour and passing by no fewer than twenty stalls, he sampled seven or eight of them, all of which looked or smelled acceptable.

But once he tasted it, he couldn't help but shake his head. It was fair to say that, apart from the initial white sugar shortbread, it was all garbage.

He couldn't help but complain to his fellow gourmets, his tone tinged with disappointment, "Since when has the younger generation in the national pastry industry declined to this extent?"

"Everyone says that when it comes to cooking, the food should be visually appealing, fragrant, and delicious. But they only care about making it look good, smelling good, and being novel."

"But when it comes to the taste, they can't spare any effort. Look at this shumai, the soy sauce smells so appetizing, but when you eat it, it's too oily and leaves your mouth feeling greasy."

A fellow gourmet chuckled, "What, are you going to give them a bad review later? You paid someone to do this."

Yang Song sighed, "Alas, we have no way to express our suffering. In order to attract customers, some contestants are simply reckless, completely treating diners like fools."

"We must give young people room to grow," his companion said. "Isn't that a wise saying of Chairman Qi Baiwei?"

Upon hearing the name Qi Baiwei, Yang Song immediately became interested. "I heard that Elder Qi is here today as well. I wonder, given his standards, how many of these hundred contestants will meet his approval?"

"A single praise from Qi Lao is worth a thousand pieces of gold"—this is no joke. Rumors circulate that some restaurants are actually willing to pay exorbitant sums for a positive review from Qi Lao, though he has never paid any attention. This, however, speaks volumes about his influence.

"Hey, Lao Yang. Look over there, isn't it lively?"

Following his companion's finger, Yang Song saw a stall with quite a few people in front of it.

Only half an hour has passed, and it's in this corner again, which is quite rare. Only the white sugar pastry stall I just ate at has this kind of popularity.

"There are so many people gathered in this corner, the smell must be pretty good. Let's go take a look."

He'd only taken two steps closer when his brow furrowed again. This stall owner was probably a bit of a rascal, wearing an Ultraman mask.

"Well, well, these young people these days are getting worse and worse," Yang Song complained again. "They don't focus on honing their skills, they just do all sorts of fancy stuff."

"What, you don't want to try it anymore?"

Yang Song snorted coldly, "No, I have to try it even more. If it's not good, I'll definitely teach him a lesson."