In the 1970s, it started with contracting out communal dining.

"Hey kid, stop right there. I have something to ask you."

Wang Defa's voice suddenly rang out from behind, startling Chen Wei.

"Chef Wang, what's wrong?"

Chen Wei looked back and saw that the other party's stall had not yet been packed up.

Wang Defa was still holding the large ladle used for serving dishes. There was still half a bowl of boiled dried bean curd in front of him, and the soup was already a bit cloudy.

Pingqiao tofu was in even worse shape; the sauce had congealed into a lump, and the tofu was all broken up, looking like leftovers from the kitchen used to feed pigs.

Looking at Chen Wei's unbelievably young face, Wang Defa felt a sense of absurdity.

He started learning to cook from his master at the age of fifteen, and it has been thirty-five years since then. His Huaiyang cuisine skills are so good that everyone who eats it praises them.

But today, in front of so many people, he was outshone by this young upstart.

If he loses, that's one thing; if he's not as skilled, Wang Defa will accept it.

But what exactly did that kid do?

Three Treasures of the Earth? It's a dish made from vegetables gathered from the fields and roadsides, something that every household can see.

How can it compare to Huaiyang cuisine, which is famous throughout the country?

But reality is reality, and Wang Defa's exquisite Huaiyang cuisine simply didn't sell out.

After stirring the remaining Pingqiao tofu in the basin, Wang Defa felt as if his entire life had been a joke.

The kitchen was unusually hot and humid in the afternoon, and the embers in the stove made Wang Defa's back, which was soaked with sweat, wet and then dry again.

He reached out and rubbed his broken leg, his body swaying slightly.

"Chef Wang? Are you feeling unwell? How about... I help you sit down for a while?" Chen Wei asked hesitantly.

Wang Defa, sitting opposite, grabbed the stove and waved his hand with a wry smile.

He stood there for a long time, the midday sun shining through the big trees outside the window, casting dappled shadows on him.

His mind was in turmoil, filled with resentment, doubt, and... a sense of defeat.

Although he didn't want to, he had to admit that he had lost.

They lost to Chen Wei, a kid who'd only been cooking for a few days.

"A musty smell!"

Finally, Wang Defa spoke in a hoarse voice.

"I want to ask you, how did you learn your cooking skills? Who did you learn from...? Why... why are you so popular...?"

Chen Wei was about to leave when Wang Defa called him back.

Turning his head, he saw Wang Defa with a flushed face, looking at him awkwardly.

The usually arrogant old man had abandoned all his pride, and his gaze toward Chen Wei even carried a hint of timidity.

Chen Wei's heart softened. He glanced at Wang Defa's remaining masterpieces and finally spoke up.

"Chef Wang, actually my cooking skills are really no match for yours."

He was telling the truth.

Putting everything else aside, just look at Wang Defa standing in front of the stove; his smooth and effortless deboning technique for a whole chicken is something Chenwei can't achieve now.

Moreover, he did this with the help of a system.

"Xiao Chen, don't be modest, I..." Wang Defa said subconsciously.

Chen Wei interrupted him, saying, "I'm not being modest, I'm serious. Chef Wang, do you know why, despite your excellent cooking skills, not many people at the factory eat your food?"

"Why?" Wang Defa asked, frowning.

Then Chen Wei spoke up: "The two dishes you made, Braised Dried Tofu Strips and Pingqiao Tofu, were all at the level of a master chef in terms of knife skills, cooking time, and broth preparation. But you forgot one thing."

"Which point?"

"You forgot about putting people first!"

People-oriented?

A look of surprise flashed across Wang Defa's eyes.

Then Chen Wei patiently explained, "Our factory is a steel plant, and everyone does heavy physical labor on the production line. It's the height of summer now, and everyone is sweltering. They wish they could soak in a water tank every day to feel comfortable. After working all morning, the workers come to the canteen and see..."

"Braised dried bean curd strips and Pingqiao tofu! Just looking at these two steaming hot dishes is enough; how can anyone eat them? Besides, our factory workers don't earn much. They can manage to eat at the factory for three or five cents a day, but you're charging three cents for a single dish, which means a meal will cost at least a dollar. Nobody can afford that!"

After saying all that, Wang De was stunned.

He genuinely hadn't considered the angle Chen Wei mentioned.

Seeing that Wang Defa seemed to have something on his mind, his expression full of conflicting emotions, Chen Wei could only sigh and helplessly point to the window.

The factory chimneys there were towering, billowing thick smoke.

"The workers here have to do heavy physical labor for more than ten hours a day in the workshop. The high temperature and noise consume a lot of their energy! What they need is not exquisite food, but affordable food and calories. Whoever makes the most appetizing and cheaper dishes will be more popular. No matter how delicious your braised dried bean curd and Pingqiao tofu are, they can't beat the satisfaction of eating a heavy-oil and heavy-salt Mapo tofu on a hot day."

As soon as he finished speaking, a self-deprecating bitter smile appeared on Wang Defa's face.

He looked down at his hands, calloused from being rubbed by a kitchen knife, and remained silent for a long time.

He then looked up at Chen Wei and said with a serious expression.

"Chen Wei, I concede. You've won this match!"

He devoted himself to honing his skills in the kitchen for 30 years, but in the end he forgot the simple truth that food is made for people to eat, not for people to see.

To this day, he has nothing more to say.

These compliments made Chen Wei feel a little uneasy, after all, he was just a charlatan and couldn't compare to Wang Defa, a chef who had been working in the kitchen for over thirty years.

"Chef Wang, you're too modest! My skills can't compare to yours at all. Actually, I really admire you!"

As he said this, Chen Wei pointed meaningfully to Wang Defa's leg, which was still in a cast.

After working all morning, Wang Defa was no longer as healthy as he used to be; one of his legs was so tired that he could barely feel it.

Not to mention the affected area with a cast on.

"I wouldn't dare!" This was the first time in Wang Defa's life that he had admitted defeat. He smiled bitterly and said, "The younger generation surpasses the older generation. Chen Mo, do a good job. I have faith in you."

As he said this, he seemed to have figured something out. He gave a bitter smile, took off his work clothes without hesitation, and silently turned and left the kitchen, leaning on his cane.

Chen Wei was completely baffled, but he felt that he had won the competition no matter what!

He was secretly delighted; now he wouldn't have to listen to Chen Jianguo's nagging anymore, and the salary increase should be settled.

With that in mind, Chen Wei moved even more nimbly, quickly tidying up all the remaining pots and pans.

He was tidying up when Wu Xiaochun rushed in and shouted as soon as he entered.

"A musty smell! A musty smell! Look, Wang Defa asked me to bring this to you!"

Chen Wei looked up and saw that Wu Xiaochun was holding a kitchen knife. The knife looked familiar. Wasn't this the kitchen knife that Wang Defa usually used?

Wang Defa wants to give me his kitchenware?

"Chen Wei, I must say you're really something! That old bastard Wang Defa must be convinced now, he's even run away in anger! I ran into him at the door just now, and guess what? He told me he's going to the administrative office to apply for early retirement!"

"Early retirement?" Chen Wei was taken aback.

"Of course! That old guy must feel so ashamed of losing to you so badly in today's match that he can't bear to stay in our factory anymore! But what does it mean that he asked me to deliver this kitchen knife to you? Oh, and there's a note too!"

As he said this, Wu Xiaochun took out a slip of paper from his pocket and stuffed it into Chen Wei's hand.

When Chen Wei opened it, he saw that there was only one sentence written in messy handwriting.

"Your kitchen knife is too old, here's a new one for you!"