Starting from a Bankrupt Sichuan Cuisine Restaurant

Chapter 269: Chapter 162: Inheritance

Kong Huafeng frowned, about to speak.

Suddenly, someone burst in, voice choked with tears. "Kong, my... my father... he’s gone!"

"Luo, what did you say?" Both Kong Huafeng and Kong Qingfeng were stunned.

The two of them followed Luo and rushed to the dorm room. It was already packed with the restaurant’s chefs, both inside and out. Old Luo was propped up on the bed, his face a ghastly white, his body already cold.

"He was in good spirits last night and had a couple of extra drinks. When I came to see him this morning... he was already like this." Luo burst into tears.

Old Luo was taken back to his hometown. Kong Huafeng and Kong Qingfeng ran around helping the eighteen-year-old Luo handle all the arrangements.

"Luo, after you’re done with your father’s funeral, come back," Kong Huafeng said, pressing a wad of cash into his hand. "This is a small token from everyone at the restaurant."

Luo’s face was wracked with grief. "Kong, what would I even come back for? I haven’t even mastered my father’s Knife Skills. The Luo Family’s legacy is severed, and I’m the one who severed it."

"Snowflake Chicken Porridge, Pottery Pork, Soft Fried Bracelet, Boiled Cabbage... I can’t make any of them. I can’t do anything."

Luo’s heartbroken sobs were half for his father and half for the shattered legacy of the Luo Family.

"Come back. I’ll teach you how to cook." Kong Huafeng clasped Luo’s hand, his voice firm. "Le Ming Restaurant is about to start a training class for chefs. I will be the lead instructor, and I will share all the techniques and recipes of our Kong Sect to teach you young chefs."

Luo stared, looking up at Kong Huafeng, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. "R-Really?"

Kong Qingfeng instinctively took a step forward, his mouth opening and closing, but as he looked at Luo, no words came out.

"Yes," Kong Huafeng affirmed with a resolute nod. "Come back. I’ll save a spot for you. You’ll be one of the first students."

"I will. I’ll definitely come back." Luo nodded, then gave a deep bow to Kong Huafeng and Kong Qingfeng. "Kong, Second Master Kong, your generosity is immense!"

Luo departed in his horse-drawn cart.

Kong Huafeng and Kong Qingfeng walked side by side down the desolate autumn street, a long silence between them.

"Qingfeng, whether you agree or not, I’ve made my decision. You never know if tomorrow will come, or if tragedy will strike first." Kong Huafeng stopped at the corner and turned to face Kong Qingfeng.

"Old Luo was three years younger than you. He only ever took on his son, Luo, as an apprentice. Now, his family’s craft is completely gone. From this day forward, no one in Jiazhou will be able to make such delicious Snowflake Chicken Porridge or such exquisite Boiled Cabbage."

"I look at the Kong Family and see no one capable of carrying on the legacy, which is why I’m fifty years old and still haven’t taken an apprentice. Old Luo’s death today was a wake-up call. Even if our family’s techniques don’t end with our generation, they could easily end with the next."

"But if we create a curriculum, train young chefs en masse, and compile our knowledge into texts, we can ensure that many more chefs learn the techniques of the Kong Sect. And maybe, just maybe, I can find a few gifted disciples among them to truly carry on the Kong Sect’s traditions."

Kong Qingfeng was silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "Brother, I don’t approve... but I won’t stand in your way."

"That’s all I need," Kong Huafeng said with a smile.

Zhou Yan stood on the street corner, watching the two old men in their Zhongshan suits, a whirlwind of emotions in his heart.

’So this was the real story behind how the Kong Sect went from a secret family tradition to an open culinary school.’

The training program, under Kong Huafeng’s leadership, launched successfully and caused a massive stir in the Jiazhou culinary scene.

Many young chefs, drawn by its reputation, came to enroll. They were trained in batches organized by Le Ming Restaurant, and a number of gifted young cooks soon emerged.

Among them, Zhou Yan spotted one boy in particular.

The boy was rail-thin, built like a beanpole. He was originally a handyman at Le Ming Restaurant, responsible for sweeping and mopping the floors.

Every time he finished his chores, he would run to the window of the training classroom to listen in, standing there for two or three hours at a time.

Kong Qingfeng frequently saw him when he passed by.

"You come to listen in every day. What’s your name?" Kong Huafeng called out to the boy after class one day.

"I... I’m Xiao Lei," the boy stammered, his head bowed.

"You want to learn how to cook?" Kong Huafeng asked.

"I do!" The boy looked up, his eyes shining.

Kong Huafeng smiled at him and nodded. "Starting tomorrow, once you’ve finished your chores, you can come inside and join the class."

"Thank you, Kong!" The boy leaped with joy.

From that day on, the boy took his place in the back row of the training class.

"My goodness, you’ve been practicing the Straight Blade Technique for half a year and you still can’t get it right?"

"How can you be so dense?"

"From now on, I’m calling you Shitou!"

"Do it again!"

Every time Kong Qingfeng passed by, he could hear Kong Huafeng berating Xiao Lei.

Zhou Yan was dumbfounded. ’Isn’t that my own master? The one who was taken in as a disciple by the Master himself because of his supposedly exceptional talent?’

’Well, well, well! So this was the real you, Shitou!’

Zhou Yan was practically hysterical with laughter.

...

「One year later.」

Kong Huafeng held a ceremony to formally accept his new disciples.

He accepted four apprentices at once.

Xu Yunliang, Fang Yifei, Song Bo, and Xiao Lei.

Kong Qingfeng was in attendance.

After the ceremony concluded.

Kong Huafeng and Kong Qingfeng were having tea in the backyard.

"Xu Yunliang, Fang Yifei, and Song Bo are certainly talented—they’re all outstanding among the young chefs. But that rock, Xiao Lei... why did you accept him as your disciple?" Kong Qingfeng looked at Kong Huafeng, completely bewildered. "I thought you valued talent above all else."

"Isn’t diligence also a form of talent?" Kong Huafeng took a sip of tea and said leisurely, "In him, I see a reflection of you."

"More than learning quickly, I believe what our own master used to say: ’Mastery comes from practice, and practice breeds perfection.’"

Kong Qingfeng was taken aback, but after a long moment, a smile of understanding spread across his face.

-----------------

The scene gradually faded to black. Zhou Yan’s eyes snapped open. He was back in the meeting room.

Once again, he heard the low voice of Kong Qingfeng.

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