Divorced and Determined: The CEO's Ex-Wife Fights for Love - Chapter 83

Chapter 83 No Need to Taste It, This Liver Paste Soup Fails!

At Azalea Restaurant, in Private Dining RoomInside sat a cold-faced young man in a suit, his hair meticulously groomed, and wearing refined glasses. His demeanor radiated authority. Everyone else in the room stood respectfully, leaving the seats empty.

After a short while, Chef Hu entered, carrying a bowl of liver paste soup. His expression was a mix of anxiety and determination.

Although Hu Zhijun was a skilled chef, proficient in Sichuan and Hunan cuisines, liver paste soup was an intricate banquet dish in Sichuan cuisine. While he could prepare it, it was not his forte.

Frankly, among ten Sichuan chefs, finding even one who could make liver paste soup was rare. Whether it met the standard was an entirely different question. Only true masters of Sichuan cuisine could produce an authentic, flawless version of the dish.

The soup was placed in front of the young man, Ouyang Lin. Just as it was set down, a knock came at the door. Shen Muyan entered, followed by Song Yuanyuan and the restaurant manager, Wang.

Upon entering, Shen Muyan immediately sensed the tense atmosphere in the room but said nothing. Her gaze shifted from the liver paste soup on the table to Ouyang Lin, waiting for him to sample the dish.

It didn’t take much for Shen to guess Ouyang Lin’s motive for his unexpected visit to the Azalea Restaurant. Clearly, he was here to evaluate the culinary standards of Ourei International Hotel.

The Ourei Hotel was seeking a major investment from Shengyang Group, so it made sense for Shengyang to conduct an inspection. However, Shen had assumed Ouyang Lin’s focus would be on aspects like the hotel’s cleanliness, room comfort, or staff professionalism. Instead, he had zeroed in on the restaurant’s culinary quality—and given no time for preparation.

Even more puzzling was his choice of liver paste soup, a rarely ordered Sichuan dish. Hu Zhijun was an experienced chef, but based on Manager Wang’s earlier feedback, his “I’ll do my best” comment didn’t inspire much confidence.

This left Shen Muyan feeling cornered, unsure how to salvage the situation. She chose to remain silent for now, waiting to see Ouyang Lin’s reaction.

Chef Hu, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. He knew this man was the representative of Shengyang Group, and the hotel’s investment hinged on his assessment. With Shen Muyan personally present, Hu couldn’t help but wonder—if his dish didn’t meet expectations, would Shengyang Group cancel the deal because of him?

The thought made his heart race.

I’m just a chef! How did all this pressure land on me? If he’s unhappy, am I supposed to take the fall?

Hu swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. His palms were sweaty as he began to explain the dish.

“President Ouyang, for this liver paste soup, I used a three-year-old free-range chicken and premium ham to make the broth. I’ve done my best to ensure the soup’s flavor is fresh and rich. Please, have a taste…”

In such high-stakes settings, chefs often explain their dishes. It’s both a way to share the effort behind the meal and a subtle defense mechanism, preempting criticism by showcasing the care involved. After all, food is subjective—what pleases one might not please another.

But before Hu could finish, Ouyang Lin raised his hand, cutting him off.

“No need to taste it. This liver paste soup fails.”

“Ah! What?!”

Hu Zhijun froze, his mind blank. For a moment, he couldn’t even find words.

If anyone else had dismissed his dish without tasting it, he would have snapped back with—Who do you think you are? If you can’t explain why it fails, don’t make me pick up my cleaver!

But this was no ordinary diner. Confronting Ouyang Lin was out of the question. Manager Wang’s face turned pale. For Ouyang Lin to dismiss the dish without even tasting it indicated his deep dissatisfaction.

Shen Muyan frowned slightly and spoke up, trying to salvage the situation.

“President Ouyang, if you’re not satisfied with this dish, perhaps you’d like to try something else? Chef Hu is skilled in many Sichuan and Hunan specialties.”

Ouyang Lin didn’t look up. His voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority.

“This isn’t about the chef’s skill or other dishes. The issue lies with the foundation. The liver paste soup lacks authenticity in its appearance alone. It’s not a question of flavor but of understanding. True Sichuan cuisine requires mastery of tradition. Without that, the rest is irrelevant.”

Hu Zhijun felt as though he’d been struck by lightning. His lips moved, but no words came out. He hadn’t expected such a harsh critique. Shen Muyan’s heart sank further. Ouyang Lin’s words weren’t just a rejection of the dish but an indirect critique of the hotel’s standards as a whole.

Ouyang Lin finally looked up, his gaze sweeping the room.

“If Ourei Hotel wishes to position itself as a luxury establishment, it must hold its cuisine to the same high standard as its service. A dish like this is unqualified, even as a test.”

Ouyang Lin shook his head and got straight to the point.

“President Shen, I have only one requirement. If you want this investment, Ourei Hotel must prepare a liver paste soup that satisfies me. I’ll give you three days.”

With that, Ouyang Lin turned and left without looking back. Manager Wang hurried to open the door for him.

_____

Inside the Private Room, a long silence hung in the air. Manager Wang bent down to examine the liver paste soup closely. The broth was clear and bright, exuding a rich aroma. It was even garnished with high-quality cordyceps, giving it a high-end presentation. Just by the looks of it, it seemed to be an exceptional dish. There was no apparent reason for it to be dismissed without even a taste.

“Chef Hu, are there other ways to prepare liver paste soup? Maybe President Ouyang is looking for a variation that differs from your method.”

“Liver paste soup is made this way. It’s one of the four classic clear soups in Sichuan cuisine. There aren’t any other versions,” Hu Zhijun replied firmly.

As a seasoned chef who had trained several apprentices, Hu Zhijun was confident in his knowledge. If he couldn’t make a dish like this, he might as well quit the industry.

Turning to Shen Muyan, he explained, “President Shen, while I don’t make this dish often, it doesn’t mean I can’t make it. Please, try it yourself.”

Shen nodded, picked up a spoon, and took a sip of the soup before tasting a piece of the liver paste. The broth was fresh and flavorful, the liver paste delicate and smooth. It tasted excellent and could easily be served at any banquet without issue.

Puzzled, Shen Muyan took out her phone, snapped a photo of the dish, and headed to the back kitchen of the Le Xuan Tea Restaurant to find Chef Xiong Tianmin.

_____

At this time, the tea restaurant wasn’t busy. Chef Xiong was experimenting with making ice crystal cake.

“Ice crystal cake?”

Shen noticed the small, four-centimeter-square white cakes with translucent skins neatly arranged on a stainless steel tray. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Xiong, aware that Lu Qin was Shen’s ex-husband, felt awkward and self-conscious about being caught trying to replicate one of Lu’s signature creations.

He forced a smile.

“President Shen, if I can achieve 80% of the flavor of Lu’s ice crystal cake, it might be worth adding to the tea restaurant’s menu.”

Shen picked up a piece of ice crystal cake, examining it from all sides. Its appearance was indeed somewhat similar to Lu Qin’s version. She took a bite.

Xiong watched her expectantly.

“How is it, President Shen?”

“Thirty percent,” she said coolly.

The comment hit Xiong like a blow. He was still far from his goal. He quickly took a piece for himself to taste.

“Thirty percent feels a bit harsh. It’s at least 35%,” he muttered, determined to save face.

Not one to waste food, Shen finished the piece. Compared to Lu Qin’s ice crystal cake, the texture and flavor were worlds apart. This moment made her fully appreciate Lu Qin’s skill.

Xiong Tianmin was already an outstanding pastry chef, a protégé of Maidejun, a renowned national banquet chef. Yet even he could only replicate 30% of Lu Qin’s ice crystal cake.

The realization was staggering. Many techniques in desserts and pastries are universal, so a 30% similarity was shockingly low.

“President Shen, is there something you need?”

Xiong started packing the remaining ice crystal cakes into a box, intending to take them home for further analysis while eating.

“I need your help contacting Chef Maidejun.” Shen pulled out her phone and showed Xiong the picture of the liver paste soup, explaining the situation briefly.

Without hesitation, Xiong took out his phone and called Maidejun.