Chapter
7: Today We Are Going to Have a Sweet Party
After finishing the morning cleaning as usual, Xia Yu carried the wooden
basin back toward the kitchen. But just as he reached the back door, he
stopped.
His nose twitched.
A sweet, mellow aroma wafted from inside the kitchen. Xia Yu instinctively
sniffed the air, his stomach letting out a low growl in response.
Ah—right. He hadn't eaten breakfast yet. First day of spring break, and he'd
forgotten to prepare anything.
Setting the wooden basin aside, Xia Yu stepped into the kitchen. As
expected, the old man was standing at the counter, preparing two bowls of
breakfast. Judging by the bubbling pot, he was already in the final stages.
A rich sweetness permeated the air as the old man lifted the pot and poured
thick, steaming brown sugar syrup into the bowls. Then came fried peanuts,
crushed walnuts, and finally—chopped green onions.
Xia Yu swallowed reflexively, staring at the two fragrant bowls on the
counter. He murmured to himself, "Sorry, but I'm gonna be a sweet-tooth today."
The old man had made tofu pudding.
A humble snack back in China, but in this parallel world—specifically here
in Tokyo—this was the first time Xia Yu had seen a familiar taste of home since
his transmigration. For some reason, his nose tingled. He didn't want to admit
it, but his heart ached a little.
After washing his hands, he walked over and asked, "One of these is mine?"
The old man nodded wordlessly.
Xia Yu didn't need a second invitation. He took the bowl and casually found
a seat in the shop. With a white porcelain spoon, he scooped up a spoonful of
tofu pudding.
His eyes widened.
This wasn't like the tofu pudding he remembered. The pudding here was almost
transparent—crystal clear like fine jelly—and it wobbled like it was made of
silk threads. A breathtaking sight.
"Tofu pudding can reach this level? This is basically art…" Xia Yu muttered,
stunned.
It defied common sense.
He had never seen tofu pudding like white jade before. If
someone had told him about this years ago, he would've laughed. But now, with
the refreshing aroma of soy milk drifting from his bowl, Xia Yu didn't doubt it
at all.
"Just try it," the old man said.
After cooking ramen last night, his attitude had clearly shifted. This
breakfast… felt like a deliberate show of skill.
Xia Yu took a deep breath, steadying his slightly trembling hands. For a
second, he was afraid to eat it, like he'd be ruining a masterpiece by chewing
it.
But once the tofu pudding entered his mouth, the fragrance bloomed across
his tongue. The chopped green onion, fried peanuts, and walnut kernels didn't
overpower the flavor—instead, they elevated it. The tofu pudding melted in his
mouth like condensed milk. Just a few chews, and it slid down his throat as
smooth as warm soy milk.
It was like drinking sunshine. His mind filled with golden soybeans as if he
were floating atop a sea of them, basking in warmth and peace.
Before he realized it, he had emptied the bowl.
Clang.
The spoon hit the bottom of the bowl, snapping him back to reality. He
stared at the empty porcelain and shrugged. "That's it?"
Still savoring the lingering sweetness on his tongue, Xia Yu stood up and
carried the bowl back to the kitchen.
"What kind of tofu pudding was that?" he asked.
"Just regular vegetarian tofu pudding," the old man said, placing his own
bowl into the sink. "The toppings don't matter. The tofu pudding is the core."
Xia Yu immediately understood.
He's implying the tofu pudding itself isn't ordinary.
After all, tofu pudding and tofu are both byproducts of soy milk. If the
tofu pudding's quality was this high, the tofu made from the same batch should
be just as amazing.
He asked no more questions and simply waited patiently for the tofu to set.
One hour later.
In the kitchen, the cloth covering the wooden trays was finally peeled back.
What appeared before Xia Yu's eyes made his pupils contract slightly.
Snow-white. Delicate. Radiant.
Even from a glance, this tofu was clearly on a different level. Tentatively,
Xia Yu reached out and poked it with his index finger.
Boing.
The bounceback surprised him.
At that moment, a virtual message suddenly popped up before his
eyes—something he hadn't seen before:
[Water
Tofu]
Grade: Excellent
Description: A key ingredient in various Chinese dishes. System recommends
using this high-quality tofu to prepare "Magic Mapo Tofu." Chance of producing
a glowing dish increased…
Ingredient identification?!
Xia Yu was stunned. The Kitchen God System had this kind of
feature too?
Slapping his forehead, he asked quickly, "System, what's my current cooking
level?"
"Level 3. You completed the initial mission yesterday, advanced one level,
and gained 1 unallocated talent point."
"Nice! Then what can I use these points for?"
"Basic talents include knife skills and heat control. You
can also assign two points to ingredient identification to enhance the
system's scanning accuracy."
"Note: Advanced talents unlock at level 10."
Xia Yu thought for a moment. "Then assign one point to knife skills, and one
to heat control. Let's go with that."
"Allocation complete."
In that instant, Xia Yu felt a subtle shift in his body. His shoulders
relaxed, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the change.
Walking over to the chopping board, he picked up a kitchen knife and stared
at the reflection on its silver blade.
His expression shifted—surprised, then thrilled.
Over the years, he'd been chopping vegetables and prepping ingredients for
the old man day and night. His knife skills were already well-honed through
constant repetition.
But now, something was different.
It felt as though the knife had become an extension of his hand. Like a
swordsman who suddenly achieved enlightenment—becoming one with the blade.
A bit exaggerated? Maybe. But Xia Yu couldn't find a better way to describe
it.
He narrowed his eyes, then picked up a slice of fresh tofu and placed it on
the cutting board.
Swoosh!
The knife flashed, smooth and effortless. Each slice was clean, elegant, and
flowed like water. Like an old-school master chef from a traditional hotel.
Soon, the tofu slices completely covered the board.
Each one was nearly identical—so thin they resembled rice paper. Even with
the naked eye, it was hard to tell them apart.
"Phew…"
Xia Yu exhaled slowly. He could feel it—his knife technique had made a real
leap forward. All it took was one point.
"If I maxed out knife skills… wouldn't I be a god-tier chef already?"
Then he sensed someone behind him.
Turning around, Xia Yu saw the old man standing in the doorway, staring
blankly at the tofu slices.
He must've seen the whole thing.
"Your knife…" the old man began, but halfway through, he shook his head,
hands behind his back, and walked silently out of the kitchen.