Miyazaki Ryui turned around to see a striking young woman with silver hair staring at his dish with curiosity. Standing next to her was a young man, who seemed to be her classmate.
"Sui, is this really Buddha Jumps Over the Wall?" Alice asked, intrigued. Even she had never encountered this famous dish in person.
"It seems so," Sui replied, nodding.
Traditional Buddha Jumps Over the Wall is a complex dish, requiring dozens of ingredients such as sea cucumber, scallops, abalone, shark fin, chicken, duck, and ham, all slow-cooked in a wine jar for over ten hours. It's notoriously difficult to prepare.
"Can we try it?" Sui asked.
"Oh, of course, please help yourselves," Miyazaki Ryui responded politely, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Watching the defeated expressions on the chefs of Hōjō Building, he felt a surge of pride. His tactic was working perfectly. Once chefs tasted the superior quality of his dish, their confidence was crushed, and many would feel too ashamed to continue running their businesses. Even those who kept their doors open would lose customers, especially after witnessing a scene like this.
However, something seemed off—where were all the customers? Hōjō Building was usually bustling with patrons, but today it was eerily quiet. Though puzzled, Miyazaki brushed it off, satisfied with the damage he had done.
"Well, this bowl is my parting gift to you all. Enjoy it." With that, he turned to leave.
But just as he was about to exit, a calm voice interrupted him.
"There are quite a few flaws in your dish."
"What?" Miyazaki's expression darkened as he swiftly turned back. To his surprise, the young man—Sui—was holding a spoon, tasting the soup from the thermos.
"Now that you mention it, I agree," Alice added, leaning closer to Sui and licking the spoon he had just used. Smacking her lips thoughtfully, she nodded. "It's delicious, but something feels... off."
"What nonsense are you two spouting?" Miyazaki scoffed, relieved. He assumed the students were simply talking out of turn. "This dish combines the essence of dozens of ingredients. It's a masterpiece, a culinary treasure."
"I'm not saying the ingredients are wrong," Sui said, smiling calmly. "I'm saying the way you prepared it is flawed."
At this, all the chefs in Hōjō Building turned to look. Even Miyoko and her father were taken aback.
"What a joke! You think you can critique my cooking?" Miyazaki Ryuji sneered, shaking his head. He found it ridiculous to take a student seriously and made to leave again.
But Sui wasn't done. "You used a lot of high-quality ingredients, sure. But you lack the skill to handle them. Some ingredients are overwhelming, while others barely come through. It's like a piece of music where the instruments are out of sync, with the lead and supporting parts all jumbled."
Miyazaki froze in his tracks.
Slowly, he turned back, his previous carefree demeanor replaced by a cold, grim expression. "Who are you? And how do you know that?"
He stared at Sui intensely. The young man had hit on the exact issue Miyazaki had struggled with—his inability to balance the dish's complex flavors. It was a problem only the most skilled chefs could detect. But how had a mere student figured it out?
Alice's eyes brightened as she gave Sui an enthusiastic pat on the shoulder. "You're right! It's incredibly tasty, but the flavors are all over the place. It's like a legion of soldiers fighting separately, with no one taking the lead."
"As expected from my—" She paused, suddenly remembering Miyoko was nearby. "As expected from my classmate!" she quickly corrected, her tone serious.
Sui shot her a helpless look.
Alice stuck her tongue out playfully at him.
"Could it be that the gap between us and him isn't as big as we thought?" one of the Hōjō chefs mused aloud, a spark of hope appearing in their discussions.
Miyazaki's expression soured. Then, noticing Sui and Alice's school uniforms, he pieced something together. "Wait... are you students from Totsuki?"
"That's right," Sui confirmed.
Miyazaki's confusion deepened. If this had been the legendary God Tongue, he could have understood how his cooking had been seen through so easily. But Sui? A boy? Or perhaps Totsuki's students were now this skilled?
"But even so," Miyazaki said, a trace of confidence returning to his voice, "I doubt you could make a dish that surpasses mine. As for Hōjō Building, it's hardly qualified to stay in business."
Miyoko frowned. "My father is just as capable of making that dish."
"Why not let me give it a try?" Sui interjected, looking at Chef Hōjō. "May I?"
Miyazaki eyed Sui suspiciously. "And who exactly are you to Hōjō Building?"
Before Sui could answer, Chef Hōjō laughed and said, "He's my daughter's boyfriend. Naturally, he can represent us."
Miyoko's face flushed red with embarrassment and frustration at her father's sudden declaration. Sui, equally speechless, found himself at a loss for words. Then, a sharp pain shot through his arm as he turned to see Alice glaring at him in annoyance.
"That's not true," Sui quickly tried to clarify.
Chef Hōjō scratched his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, I just said that to make the other party take us seriously. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble."
Sui was at a loss for words. 'You've already caused trouble, alright?' he thought.
"How could you say such a thing?" Alice pouted, cheeks puffed in irritation. She glared at Chef Hōjō, clearly wanting to declare herself as Sui's girlfriend instead.
Chef Hōjō could only smile wryly at Alice's reaction. He had only meant to help his daughter, after all.