My Super Beautiful Lady Boss-Chapter 52 - Exceptional Promotion

52: Chapter 52: Exceptional Promotion

52 -52: Exceptional Promotion

Su Xuan’s questioning was filled with a teasing tone, yet his face wore an expression of disdain, rendering the complexion of the man at the registration desk as unsightly as a frostbitten eggplant.

The man glared at Su Xuan with furrowed brows and said without any hint of courtesy, “Go re-register; the information doesn’t match up.”

Su Xuan’s face turned stormy with anger boiling in his heart: Damn it, why the hell are you being so difficult with me when I’m here to compete?

Heaven has a road, yet you refuse to take it; hell has no gate, yet you insist on barging in!

“Hello, this gentleman is Mr.

Su, the designated competing chef from Bright Moon Building.

I can vouch for his identity,” Su Xuan said, suppressing his anger when a man came over and spoke to the one responsible for registration with a pleasant expression.

Glancing to the side, Su Xuan asked with curiosity, “Where did President Chen go?”

The man who came over was Chen Wanqing’s assistant, Tian Xiaoguang.

He took out a business card and handed it to the man in charge of registration, before turning to Su Xuan and saying, “President Chen went to the bathroom.

The competition is about to start, Mr.

Su, please go ahead and enter the arena.”

After shooting a glance at the man in charge of registration, Su Xuan thought: Now that someone has vouched for me, what more do you want?

Contrary to expectations, the man responsible for registration was utterly unreasonable.

He glanced at the business card with a sideways look and tossed it to Su Xuan, “I told you to go re-register.

Don’t you understand?”

Tian Xiaoguang was taken aback for a moment, and the rage in Su Xuan’s heart soared to his throat as he said coldly, “Fine, give me back my entry card.”

The man’s face darkened as he handed the entry card over to Su Xuan.

As Su Xuan reached out to take the card, he secretly exerted strength with two fingers, grasping the man’s index and middle fingers.

For a brief two to three seconds, the postures of the two men were quite strange.

No one withdrew their hand, yet the man’s facial expressions changed rapidly like slides in a projector, from disdain to astonishment, then to twisted agony—it was as if his fingers were about to be crushed.

With a sinister smile, Su Xuan said nothing, his fierce gaze fixed on the man while his fingers continued to increase the pressure.

“No…

no need to register anymore, you can go in!” the man managed through gritted teeth, his expression as horrific as a car crash scene.

“That’s more like it; you’re finally being sensible,” Su Xuan said with a smile, only then releasing his grip, having taught the man a lesson with just two fingers.

Not expecting to encounter such a tough opponent, the man silently cursed watching Su Xuan’s figure approaching the competition venue: Damn it!

Such strength, I almost lost my fingers!

The Cooking God Competition had a total of twenty competing chefs, all of whom had passed registration.

The largest conference hall on the 7th floor of Manston Hotel had been set up by the organizers as a dedicated competition venue.

With a languid posture and casual gaze wandering everywhere, Su Xuan walked expressionlessly towards the competition hall.

Right in front, there was a vast area outfitted with cooking stations, kitchen utensils, tableware, ingredients, and seasonings, all fully prepared.

To the left was a round stage where the host, waiting for all chefs, judges, and guests to arrive, stood on the podium with an impassioned voice, reciting his lines—the usual routine of the competition.

Su Xuan, half-squinting his eyes and overcome with drowsiness, found this kind of competition uninteresting.

“Ten minutes to go, the competition will officially begin!

Please, chefs, make your preparations!” the host finally “stopped his chatter,” and Su Xuan’s gaze settled on the guest area to the right where more than fifty seats were all taken.

The chefs had changed into their uniforms in the dressing room before entering the arena, making it hard to distinguish who was who.

In the competition area, each chef was assigned a number, with about two square meters of space per person, forming two rows, each with ten chefs.

“Buddy, so young, which hotel’s restaurant are you from?” The chefs started entering their respective competition spots one after another, and Su Xuan was assigned to number 12.

A chef to his left, with rough skin and appearing to be in his forties or fifties, asked with a thick Sichuan dialect and a smile.

Su Xuan glanced at him and responded with a smile, “Just a small place.”

Every chef who qualified for the competition knew it wasn’t for small wine houses and restaurants, and by making such a statement, Su Xuan made the chef next to him feel he was quite modest.

After the host introduced the competition rules, all the chefs entered their preparation time.

Su Xuan looked at the ingredients and kitchen tools on the table with a focused expression, wondering how to complete the competition.

The first round was a set challenge: twenty chefs to make the same dish, Gongbao Chicken.

It’s a popular home-style dish, one of the famous Sichuan cuisine, with widespread popularity.

“What kind of competition is this, Gongbao Chicken?

Ha, I could do it with my eyes closed,” the chef on Su Xuan’s right said arrogantly, with an air of haughtiness.

With a teasing tone, Su Xuan said, “Then go ahead and cook it with your eyes closed.

I, as your junior, would love to witness a master chef’s divine skill in cooking without sight.”

The man who had spoken was Fengming Restaurant’s head chef Hu Weiguo, also one of the chefs with the highest culinary skills, who had a bit of fame in Qingshan City.

If Su Xuan wanted to win the championship, he was his biggest competitor.

With a single sentence, Su Xuan rendered Hu Weiguo speechless.

Hu Weiguo’s neck veins bulged with anger as he glared at Su Xuan for several seconds, thinking furiously: How dare you be so arrogant to me!

You little brat, I’ll make sure you don’t even know how you died!

As the competition began with the clash of the gongs, Su Xuan, unhurried, washed the fresh meat on the cutting board and then picked up the knife, beginning the process of dicing the chicken.

It was time to showcase his knife skills.

…

The competition grounds fell silent.

Audience members in the guest area and veteran judges observed every move of the chefs intently as twenty minutes swiftly passed.

All the chefs stopped their work, and twenty plates of Gongbao Chicken were presented to the judges, waiting for the verdict.

At this moment, many chefs inevitably felt nervous, as ten would be eliminated this round, leaving only half to advance to the next.

“This number 12 is done well!

Really well!

So delicious!” A female judge in the judging panel exclaimed, utterly surprised after tasting Su Xuan’s Gongbao Chicken, praising it endlessly.

The judges had to taste the dishes of all twenty chefs in turn, and it was clear which were good and which were not.

A judge with a plump face and big ears tasted the previous few dishes of Gongbao Chicken with indifference, finding nothing exciting.

When he tasted number 12’s dish, the plump judge exclaimed, “Is there such a delicious Gongbao Chicken?

Who is the chef who made this?!”

“The meat is fresh and tender, has a good chew, and is sweet with a hint of spiciness.

The aroma of spring onion and garlic has seeped into the meat, fantastic!” Another judge tried number 12’s Gongbao Chicken with anticipation and marveled with clicks of his tongue.

After all the judges had tasted the dishes, they discussed for a few minutes before handing a list to the host with the numbers of eliminated and advancing chefs, including a special note: number 12 to advance directly to the third round.

The host stepped into the center of the area, excitedly announcing, “The tense first round of the competition has come to an end.

I now declare that dish number 12, made by our contestant chef, has received unanimous praise from the judges.

After discussion, it’s decided that number 12 will directly advance to the third round!

Other advancing chefs include He Baozeng, Hu Weiguo, Zhang Da…”

Sounds of surprise and discussions erupted from the audience seats, with all eyes turning to contestant station number 12.

Su Xuan stood there smiling, while Fengming Restaurant’s head chef Hu Weiguo was so furious he was nearly exploding, bellowing, “Why does he advance directly?!

That’s unfair!

I disagree!”

“Is it up to you to agree?” Su Xuan said with a wry smile.

Most of the other chefs also harbored grievances, but none could deny the verdict; it was a last-minute decision by the judges.

Who would want to fall out with the organizers?

“The second round will begin at 5:30 PM.

Chefs, please move to the back resting room for a short break, and those chefs who were unfortunately eliminated, please head towards the right-hand passage,” the host said before turning and walking towards the stage.

Hu Weiguo was among the ten chefs who advanced, but he was not at all pleased, feeling a giant stone block in his heart: Why?!

That kid must have taken a back door!