Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

Firelight flickered between the rows of stoves.

The clang of pots and pans, the bubbling of simmering broths, and the sharp crackle of ingredients hitting hot oil blended into a constant roar throughout the examination kitchen.

Almost every contestant was pushing themselves as hard as possible, desperate to finish before the remaining qualifying spots disappeared.

Haruto, who had already passed, was far more relaxed. He leisurely surveyed the room before his gaze eventually settled on Mao.

Mao had already finished preparing his dough. All that remained was for the alkaline water to finish boiling, and then he could begin completing his dish.

Haruto shifted his attention toward Xiao Dan and Zhilin.

Xiao Dan was bent slightly over his stove, staring intently at the broth simmering before him. His ladle never stopped moving, and beads of sweat rolled down his jaw before dripping onto the edge of the stove.

Zhilin, meanwhile, was still busy preparing her toppings. Her knife flashed rapidly over the cutting board, while the dough beside her had only undergone its initial kneading. She still had quite some distance to go before pulling the noodles, cooking them, and assembling the final dish.

Seeing their progress, Haruto relaxed.

At the current pace, as long as nothing unexpected happened, Mao securing one of the remaining qualifying spots was practically guaranteed.

Just then, a wave of surprised murmurs suddenly swept through the noisy kitchen.

Haruto followed everyone’s gaze and found them staring at Lan Feihong.

Fei had picked up the dough he had prepared earlier and allowed to rest for nearly an hour.

He was about to start pulling noodles.

Haruto’s eyes flickered with surprise.

According to the original course of events, Fei should have waited considerably longer before beginning this step.

Yet this time, he was already moving.

After a moment, Haruto understood.

Perhaps in the original events, Fei’s delay had never been because he was unprepared.

He had been waiting for Mao.

Only after seeing Mao find his direction and confirming that he would not stumble out of the preliminary round had Fei finally been willing to focus completely on his own cooking and reveal everything he could do.

This time, however, Haruto’s presence had prevented Mao from losing valuable time.

There was no reason for Fei to wait.

While Haruto was still thinking, Lan Feihong began pulling his noodles.

His fingers lightly hooked around both ends of the dough.

With a subtle drop of his wrists and a controlled pull, the thick mass stretched smoothly into two long, even strands.

His wrists turned.

The dough traced an elegant arc through the air, folded over itself, then stretched outward again.

Pull.

Fold.

Pull again.

Fold again.

Fei’s movements were graceful and unhurried, almost like a dancer performing alone onstage. Every lift of his hands and every turn of his wrists was pleasing to watch.

The force of each pull, the angle of every fold, and the distance of every extension were controlled perfectly.

Any more would have been excessive.

Any less would have been insufficient.

In only a matter of seconds, the original lump of dough had transformed into countless noodles as fine as hair.

With a light sweep of his wrists, the strands spread through the air like silk ribbons, each one separate, impossibly thin yet completely unbroken.

They resembled the legendary whiskers hanging beneath a dragon’s jaw—delicate, flowing, and almost weightless.

Haruto could not help praising the display inwardly.

Making Dragon Beard Noodles demanded extraordinary skill.

Reaching sixteen folds was already an achievement few chefs could accomplish.

Yet Lan Feihong had effortlessly surpassed twenty, producing noodles fine enough to resemble strands of hair.

Even more impressive was the elegance of his technique. Watching him cook felt less like watching someone prepare food and more like seeing a dancer move through the clouds.

Fei soon reached the final stage.

He lifted the freshly pulled Dragon Beard Noodles and lowered them into a pot of oil that had already been heated to a relatively low temperature.

Tiny bubbles immediately formed around the impossibly fine strands.

After only a brief moment, Fei scooped them out with a strainer, drained away the excess oil, and placed them into bowls.

Then he evenly dusted the noodles with sugar ground into an exceptionally fine powder.

Every movement flowed naturally into the next without a single wasted gesture.

His dish was complete.

Peerless Beauty Noodles.

The five judges approached Lan Feihong’s station.

The moment they saw the hair-thin Dragon Beard Noodles in the bowls, all five let out quiet exclamations of admiration.

No further explanation was necessary.

Each judge picked up their chopsticks, lifted a delicate bundle of noodles, and placed it into their mouth.

The incredibly fine strands seemed to dissolve almost the moment they touched the tongue.

Yet the clean, elegant fragrance of wheat did not disappear with them.

Instead, it gently spread across the entire mouth, delicate and refined.

A faint floral aroma hidden within the noodles blended seamlessly with the wheat, adding a distant lingering note to an already exquisite flavor.

The judges instinctively closed their eyes and savored it.

Even after swallowing, a clean and graceful aftertaste remained from tongue to throat and all the way down into the stomach.

The chief judge slowly lowered his now-empty bowl and looked at Lan Feihong.

"Lan Feihong, both the flavor and technique of your noodles are flawless."

"But I must ask you this."

"How does a dish this delicate and elegant embody the examination theme—Peerless Under Heaven?"

The other four judges looked toward Fei as well.

To them, the phrase Peerless Under Heaven suggested the grandeur of a warrior capable of sweeping through armies, the commanding presence of someone who could stabilize a nation, and the indomitable spirit of a true champion.

Yet Fei’s noodles expressed elegance, gentleness, and refinement.

The two seemed completely opposed.

Lan Feihong remained perfectly calm.

"My noodles represent a Peerless Beauty."

The entire kitchen erupted in surprise.

At first glance, that answer clearly had nothing to do with the theme.

Fei continued without pause.

"Since ancient times, at weddings, people have praised the groom as peerless among men and the bride as a peerless beauty."

"Husband and wife are one."

"Peerless Under Heaven and Peerless Beauty are two sides of the same whole. They cannot truly be separated."

The five judges exchanged glances.

Then, one after another, they nodded.

The chief judge drew a deep breath and announced,

"Lan Feihong of Datong Restaurant—pass!"

The third qualifying spot had been claimed.

The atmosphere inside the kitchen immediately tightened even further.

Haruto glanced at the judges and could not help feeling amused.

As expected, this examination did not demand one rigid answer.

As long as the food was good enough and the chef’s interpretation of the theme made sense, they could earn a passing mark.

And that was only reasonable.

Peerless Under Heaven was not the name of a specific dish, nor was it a question with only one correct answer.

At almost the same moment Fei passed, Mao had begun rolling his dough into a long rope.

He wound it around two rolling pins, preparing to stretch it.

Many of the surrounding chefs immediately assumed it would snap.

After all, Mao had barely added any water when making the dough.

Mao ignored them.

He gave Meili a quick nod, grabbed both rolling pins, and suddenly sprinted backward.

Under everyone’s stunned gaze, the dough rope they had expected to tear instantly stretched more than ten meters.

It became a long noodle without breaking anywhere, displaying astonishing elasticity and strength.

Everyone stared with wide eyes.

Once the noodle was complete, Mao moved on to seasoning.

He heated pork fat in a wok with scallions and ginger until fragrant, then added the noodles and tossed everything together.

His Peerless Under Heaven Alkaline Noodles were complete.

The five judges immediately approached Mao’s station.

However, when they saw what was in the bowls, puzzled expressions appeared on their faces.

There was no broth.

No topping.

Not even any garnish.

Only a simple bowl of seasoned noodles.

Despite their doubts, the five judges still picked up their chopsticks and tasted them.

The instant their teeth came down—

The noodles pushed back.

An extraordinary springiness burst between their teeth.

The texture was almost unbelievably resilient, firm enough that they could actually feel the noodles rebound against each bite.

As they continued chewing, the pure fragrance of wheat emerged in full.

There was no broth to cover it.

No topping competing for attention.

Nothing distracted from the flavor of the noodle itself.

The judges’ eyes lit up.

They immediately took several more bites, carefully savoring the extreme purity of Mao’s dish.

By the time the bowls were empty, the chief judge put down his chopsticks and looked at Mao with obvious curiosity.

"Mao, how did you make these noodles so extraordinarily elastic?"

"You barely used any water when kneading the dough."

Mao immediately took out a piece of penghui stone.

"The answer is in this stone!"

"If you break it apart and boil it in water, then add just a few drops of that alkaline water while kneading, you can make incredibly springy noodles even without adding much ordinary water!"

Understanding gradually dawned on the chief judge as Mao explained where the penghui stone came from and how it was traditionally used.

Then came the question that truly mattered.

"Mao, how does your bowl of noodles interpret Peerless Under Heaven?"

Mao answered with complete seriousness.

"For cooking, the highest goal—the most important thing—is that the food tastes good."

"General Han Xin was called peerless under heaven because he could win battle after battle."

"It wasn’t because the weapon in his hand was especially sharp."

"It was because Han Xin himself was powerful."

"Cooking is the same."

"I believe that noodles which can still be the most delicious even without toppings or broth are the true Peerless Under Heaven Noodles!"

The chief judge listened to Mao’s explanation, then raised his voice.

"Liu Maoxing of Yangquan Restaurant—pass!"

The fourth qualifying spot was decided.

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