After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Li Dayong put down his teacup, leaned back in the large mahogany chair, and stroked his chin.

"But Lao Zhao, your soup is delicious, but... it's too 'heavy,' even a bit greasy and cloying!"

These words caused an uproar in the room!

Mr. Huang and Mr. Liu, who were standing not far away, almost popped their eyes out, and the mutton they were holding fell back onto their plates with a "thud".

This soup is so clear and so delicious, it's like a divine elixir! How could Li Dayong say it's cloying?!

Zhao Chengming was struck dumb, his face instantly turning bright red. He suddenly raised his voice, almost shouting:

"Greasy?! How could that be! Mr. Li, I used my special technique of skimming the soup twice; there's not a single drop of excess oil in it, it's crystal clear. How could it possibly be greasy?!"

"When Da Yong said 'greasy,' he didn't mean it was oily; he meant the flavor was too strong and too deliberate."

Chairman Chen, who was standing to the side, picked up the conversation and gently shook his head.

"Old Zhao, you've piled too many expensive ingredients into this soup."

"Old hen, black pork bones, dried scallops, Jinhua ham, plus wild matsutake mushrooms... all kinds of umami flavors are desperately trying to show off, squeezing and colliding with each other."

"The first sip really does send your taste buds soaring to the ceiling."

"But what happens after you swallow it?"

Chairman Chen pointed to his throat: "It's too fresh, it's actually astringent, and it overpowers the sensitivity of my tongue."

"These ingredients may seem to be top-quality delicacies, but when mixed together, there is no distinction between primary and secondary flavors. The various umami flavors fight and overpower each other in the mouth, making it actually seem chaotic."

"Old Chen is right! That makes perfect sense!"

Li Dayong mercilessly delivered the final blow: "Old Zhao, you still don't understand why we've been going to Boss Lin's place every day these past few days!"

Recalling Lin Fan's "clear broth lamb hotpot," which supposedly cleansed the marrow and left one feeling refreshed, Li Dayong couldn't help but sigh, his eyes filled with reminiscence and deep admiration.

"True, exquisite flavor is like the formless elephant, the simplest of truths, and a return to the essence of nature!"

"Boss Lin's pot may just be a pot of plain water, but the ingredients are top-notch, and the water itself is top-notch!"

"Taking a bite of hot pot mutton is like eating the very soul of the ingredient! Your whole body feels comfortable, and afterwards you don't feel thirsty or parched. You feel refreshed, as if you've been cleansed – that's what you call 'heavenly'!"

"Your golden soup is truly one of the best I've ever had in any restaurant."

Li Dayong casually picked up the silver chopsticks on the table and tapped them lightly on the edge of the cloisonné copper pot.

"But when it comes to Boss Lin's clear broth hot pot... Old Zhao, let me tell you the blunt truth that might offend some people."

"Your soup still has too much of a vulgar taste on it!"

"Tacky..."

These two words were like two loud, invisible slaps, landing hard on Zhao Chengming's face!

The hall was deathly silent.

The restaurant owners at the other tables, who had just been enjoying their meal, all stopped eating and looked at each other in bewilderment.

Mr. Huang still had half a piece of mutton in his mouth, unsure whether to swallow or spit it out, his chubby face turning a liverish color from embarrassment.

"Me...tacky?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chengming gripped the edge of the rosewood table tightly, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. His once ruddy face was now turning pale and purple.

He has been making hot pot for thirty years, honed his culinary skills his whole life, and carried the century-old brand on his shoulders.

Today, he poured all the resources of Shuweitang into cooking, spending three days and three nights preparing the finest ingredients, only to be criticized as—disorganized and tacky?!

And what defeated him was simply a pot of plain water with nothing in it?!

"absurd!"

Zhao Chengming finally couldn't hold back any longer. He sat up abruptly, gritting his teeth, and said:

"President Li! Chairman Chen! Even if you're going to favor that restaurant, at least come up with a better reason! Plain broth mutton hotpot? 'Elephant Without Form'? This is an insult to my thirty years of culinary skills!"

At this point, Zhao Chengming suddenly turned his head, stared intently at President Qian sitting next to Chairman Chen, and urgently pressed him for an answer:

"Mr. Qian! You were there the day before yesterday! You also suffered at that kid's hands. You be the judge, tell me, is this even possible?! You're a reasonable person! Say something fair!"

Suddenly called out in public, Mr. Qian, who was still holding a purple clay teacup, paused.

Faced with Zhao Chengming's hysterical, almost pleading questioning, President Qian's expression became somewhat indescribable.

He slowly put down his teacup, looked at Zhao Chengming, whose face was unrecognizable due to jealousy and prejudice, and recalled the amazing Qing Shui Tan mutton he had eaten at Lin's shop the day before yesterday.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, Mr. Qian sighed helplessly and shook his head gently.

"Old Zhao, what President Li and Chairman Chen said just now is right, the soup and meat you made tonight are indeed very good."

"You absolutely can't find another restaurant in the entire Jiangcheng that can simmer the broth to this level, but..."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chengming eagerly pressed for an answer:

"But...what?!"

Mr. Qian raised his eyelids to look at him, his eyes revealing a deep regret and an unforgettable lingering taste of that pot of clear mutton soup:

"However, compared to Boss Lin's clear mutton soup, it's still... a step below, or rather, not even on the same level."

"What...what did you say?!" Zhao Chengming was struck dumb, his whole body swayed violently, and he took two steps back, looking at President Qian in disbelief.

He pointed sharply at the plate of top-quality lamb stew, its surface shrouded in ethereal steam, his voice trembling with excitement:

"No matter what kind of grass it eats or what kind of water it drinks, how can it be sweet and fresh if it's just boiled in plain water without being pressed into a rich broth or seasoned with a base sauce?! How can it be translucent?!"

"Gentlemen, have you all been fooled by that kid?!"

"If boiled meat doesn't have a gamey smell, it's definitely because the meat was soaked in chemical deodorizers beforehand!"

"It's all thanks to the added flavor-enhancing technology and ruthless techniques! You might enjoy it, but it's just chemicals numbing your taste buds!"

"fart!"

Upon hearing this, Li Dayong immediately became furious.

"Old Zhao, although I, Li Dayong, am a rough man, I'm not senile yet!"

"Old Chen is a connoisseur who's tasted all sorts of delicacies! Do you really think the two of us can't tell the difference between the pure, natural flavor of ingredients and the chemical taste of artificial flavorings?!"

At this moment, Chairman Chen also stood up, his originally gentle face now completely covered with a layer of coldness.

He tossed the napkin onto the table, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and looked at the frenzied Zhao Chengming, his tone cold:

"You can't talk about ice with a summer insect. Old Zhao, you can't make that exquisite taste yourself, so you're assuming that others are faking it."

"The scope of your century-old business has come to an end."