What's wrong with me, a school principal, listening to students' suggestions?

6:15 AM.

Zhang Yang came out of the dormitory building with his hair in a complete mess.

His school uniform was open, and he had a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

Three henchmen followed behind him...

Liu Meng, Zhao Yang, and "Skinny Monkey" Sun Xiaotian.

These four were the most notorious troublemakers in the Thirteen, known in the underworld as the "Four Great Vajras," a title they bestowed upon themselves.

"Brother Yang, do you really think the principal can produce a five-star chef?"

The skinny monkey looked incredulous.

"Are you out of your mind?" Zhang Yang sneered. "Even the water heater at No. 13 Middle School is broken. A five-star chef coming to cook? Dream on."

"Then why do you think the principal was so arrogant yesterday?" Liu Meng scratched his head.

"Just pretending."

"They were pushed to the limit by the Education Bureau, so they used us students as bait to reassure the public."

Zhang Yang glanced in the direction of the cafeteria as he walked.

"Let me tell you, when you go in later, the cafeteria will definitely be the same as usual... spoiled cabbage with leftover rice."

"We'll see how Principal Lin handles this situation then."

The four of them walked toward the cafeteria, chatting and laughing.

As he approached the door, Zhang Yang suddenly slowed down.

Because he smelled a certain odor.

A strong, fragrant aroma wafted from the direction of the cafeteria...

It definitely doesn't taste like the food from the No. 13 Middle School cafeteria.

"What's that smell?" Zhao Yang sniffed hard. "Is...is it pork ribs?"

"No, it also smells like chicken soup." The skinny monkey's eyes widened.

"Your noses must be malfunctioning."

Zhang Yang didn't believe it, but his pace quickened unconsciously.

The cafeteria doors were wide open.

Zhang Yang stood at the door, stunned.

His three henchmen behind him were also stunned.

The dilapidated canteen of No. 13 Middle School, with its peeling paint and swarms of flies, now seemed to have been transformed by magic.

Three rows of long tables were covered with snow-white tablecloths, and brand-new plates were neatly arranged in a row.

The dishes on the table were steaming hot...

Golden and crispy sweet and sour pork ribs are arranged on a large plate, while braised lion's head meatballs lie round and plump in a casserole.

Garlic vermicelli shrimp are arranged in a row, with each shrimp having distinct bits of garlic on its back.

On the innermost table, a large earthenware pot was steaming with milky white vapor.

The savory flavor of chicken soup is almost irresistible.

There was an even larger porcelain jar next to it, covered with lotus leaves.

Just the smell is so enticing that it makes your mouth water.

Zhang Yang's toothpick fell out of his mouth.

"Yang...Brother Yang..." Skinny Monkey's voice trembled, "Is this our cafeteria?"

"Am I still dreaming?" Liu Meng pinched his thigh, wincing in pain. "It's not a dream."

The sound of footsteps grew increasingly louder behind me.

At 6:30, students walked towards the cafeteria in twos and threes.

Like Zhang Yang, everyone else wore expressions that said, "Let's come and see the principal make a fool of himself."

Then, everyone stopped at the entrance of the cafeteria.

One, two, three...

Like dominoes, the entire crowd formed a blockage at the entrance.

Silence.

It lasted for a full half minute.

Until someone, I don't know, shouted the first word.

"Holy crap! It's real!"

The cafeteria instantly erupted in excitement.

The students rushed in, grabbing their plates and shoving them at the tables.

Sweet and sour pork ribs were held by three hands at the same time, braised lion's head meatballs were cut into four pieces by a spoon, and garlic shrimp disappeared at a rate of three per second.

"These ribs are so delicious! Crispy on the outside and tender on the inside!"

"Soup! This chicken soup! Even my mom's isn't this delicious!"

"Make way! Make way! Stop fighting over Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, line up!"

Standing at the kitchen window, Zhou Dahai watched as five hundred students pounced on his dishes like wolves that hadn't eaten for three days, and he felt a mix of emotions.

He has been cooking for thirty years, serving provincial governors, wealthy businessmen, and celebrities.

But no table of guests has ever shown such an expression while eating his food.

I was really hungry, and I really craved it.

It's been a really long time since I've had a decent meal.

"Master, one of the girls even cried from eating it."

"What kind of food did the No. 13 Middle School serve before?"

Zhou Dahai turned his head to look.

At the table by the window, a girl with a ponytail was holding a bowl of chicken soup, tears streaming down her face as she poured them into the bowl.

"Chen Yu, what's wrong?"

The classmate next to her nudged her arm.

My parents work away from home and only come back once a year.

The girl named Chen Yu shook her head, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and spoke in a muffled voice.

"The last time I had chicken soup made by my dad was during Chinese New Year last year."

"This chicken soup is made the same way my dad makes it!"

She lowered her head and took another big gulp.

Zhang Yang stood at the edge of the crowd, holding a plate of sweet and sour pork ribs.

His cheeks were bulging from chewing, and his expression was incredibly conflicted.

good to eat.

Really delicious.

It tasted even better than the restaurant he secretly saved up to eat at in the city center.

But would he really admit that Lin Yucai had succeeded?

That's impossible.

The word "admit defeat" does not exist in Zhang Yang's dictionary.

He shoved the last piece of pork rib into his mouth, slammed the plate down on the table, and turned to leave.

As he passed by the kitchen window, he glanced at Zhou Dahai, who was busy at work.

I hesitated for a moment.

Finally, he managed to squeeze out two words from his throat.

"good."

The sound was so soft that only he could hear it.

Then, like a thief, they slipped away.