Chapter Sixty-Four: Blade and Fire as One

The "Mind-Heart Chart" is a competitive method used by chefs to test their fundamental skills.

This kind of competition pits participants against each other in one specific professional technical skill among the three pillars of culinary mastery: "knife work, fire control, and stamina." It does not involve preparing finished dishes, nor does it leave room for misjudgment or subjective errors.

Fair, just, and straightforward, this type of contest is the true battlefield where chefs test their "kung fu."

To win the imperial cleaver, Lei Ren demanded a "Mind-Heart Chart" duel with me, specifically naming the "Knife and Fire in Unison" challenge.

Though somewhat surprised by Lei Ren's request, I understood it completely.

Realizing he could neither outmatch me in reason nor financial backing, Lei Ren had been forced to resort to this extraordinary strategy. His goal was none other than to use the rules and expertise of the Temple of Viscera to overwhelm me, and to defeat me using the supreme techniques of the abbot of the Five Ridges Temple.

He was truly staking his life for that cleaver!

Yet, since he dared to propose "Knife and Fire in Unison," his attainments in this area were naturally not weak. And precisely because he was not weak, I had no reason to refuse and play right into his hands.

Unfortunately, this time he had miscalculated completely. Not only had he miscalculated, but he had also walked right into my line of fire.

Because I could proudly say that "Knife and Fire in Unison" was also one of my personal strengths. Furthermore, the chefs of the Confucian Temple held a unique advantage in this regard...

Faced with Lei Ren's challenge, half of the people present had no idea what "Knife and Fire in Unison" meant and were utterly bewildered.

Among the crowd, only Zhao Shuihe was exceptionally excited. The moment she heard we were going to "duel" again, she beamed with joy and said, "We're in for a good show!"

Mid-sentence, she reached out and grabbed Xian Hongye, who was also a woman, saying, "Sister Hongye, let's sit down and drink some tea. 'Knife and Fire in Unison' is fascinating to watch. Soon you'll see whether my 'grand-disciple' or my 'external grand-disciple' is more formidable."

Hearing Zhao Shuihe's words, I was left completely speechless.

Just how much did this girl love taking advantage of others through seniority?! How could she possibly keep a straight face with such a tangled and nonsensical genealogy?!

Of course, with a formidable adversary right before me, I had no time to quibble over such matters. Besides, I would need her and everyone present to act as witnesses later, so it was not the time to offer a witty retort.

Therefore, I replied to Lei Ren, "Your seniority is higher than mine. You set the rules on how this 'Knife and Fire in Unison' will be contested!"

Lei Ren's mouth twitched and a fierce glint flashed in his eyes, yet he forced a smile and said, "That's easy. Let me first explain the rules of 'Knife and Fire in Unison' to everyone, so those who don't know won't be confused."

I nodded.

Then, Lei Ren explained to the crowd that the so-called "Knife and Fire in Unison" was a method used in the chefs' "Mind-Heart Chart" contests, which primarily tested "fire" control while simultaneously assessing knife work.

Since it was called "Knife and Fire in Unison," it naturally required the use of both the knife and the fire.

The test itself sounded very simple: each competing chef was given an identical kitchen knife, and a piece of lard of the exact same weight was placed precisely in the middle of each blade. The chefs were then allowed to inspect the exact position and size of the lard.

Afterwards, the "witnesses" would light a candle for each chef, and the competitors were required to place their lard-laden knives over the flame to heat them.

With the lard resting on the blade, the metal would conduct the heat from the flame, causing the lard to gradually melt and spread. The chef who managed to make the lard spread over the largest area without failing would be declared the winner.

Hearing Lei Ren's explanation, Zhao Hong impatiently interrupted, "What's even challenging about this? You just keep the knife over the fire the whole time! Eventually, it'll just melt all over the blade."

Zhao Shuihe chimed in, "That won't work. You can make the surface area of the melted lard as large as possible, but it cannot exceed the surface area of the blade itself. If it spills off the edge of the knife, you lose."

I nodded in agreement and added, "Furthermore, once the official competition begins, the chefs' eyes will be blindfolded. In other words, they won't be able to see the size of the oil pool or the flame at all. They must rely solely on the scent and the sound of the sizzling lard to judge the melted area and degree of liquefaction."

Upon hearing this, Xian Hongye suddenly understood and exclaimed, "That is a truly difficult challenge! If the time is too short, the melted area of the lard will be too small; if the time is too long, the lard might spill right off the blade."

I smiled, offering neither confirmation nor denial.

Could it be anything less than difficult? If it weren't difficult, would Lei Ren have challenged me to it? If it weren't difficult, would I have deliberately practiced it in the past?

Moreover, I knew full well that this "Knife and Fire in Unison" was actually a fundamental basic skill for the chefs of the Temple of Viscera. While it might seem perverse—since you couldn't look and couldn't move—it was actually a baseline requirement for any true chef.

After all, nobody stares fixedly at the flame when cooking. Most people judge whether the oil is ready simply by its aroma and the sound it makes!

It was just that we at the Confucian Temple took it to an even more extreme level.

The reason the Confucian Temple excelled further was because our mastery of fire control was far more "brilliant" than that of the other three temples.

Among the "Four Great Temples," the fire-control skills of the Lu cuisine Confucian Temple were universally acknowledged as "number one under heaven," even earning the reputation that "Food is found in China, but fire is found in Shandong." This alone was enough to show that our Confucian Temple's fire-control techniques stood alone as a recognized strength.

The biggest difference between the Confucian Temple's fire control and that of the other three temples lay in the method of "categorization."

Ordinary "fire control" was nothing more than functional cooking flames categorized into gentle fire, intense fire, roasting fire, smoking, and the like. Only the chefs of the Confucian Temple elevated fire to the realm of philosophy, believing that food was an extension of Confucian ritual and that fire was the "soul" of the food.

Consequently, following Confucian ritual norms, the Confucian Temple directly divided fire into three basic categories: "Monarch Fire," "Minister Fire," and "Commoner Fire."

And this was the so-called "Three Astral True Fires."

Among these three types of flames, Monarch Fire was termed "explosive searing," Minister Fire was termed "gentle simmering," and Commoner Fire was termed "slow stewing." These three fires complemented each other and were further subdivided into seventy-two "disciple fires," which in turn gave rise to the ever-changing fire-control techniques and culinary delicacies of Lu cuisine.

To interpret flames through philosophy, and to cook the soul through flames—this was the core of Lu cuisine! This was the essence of "Ritual"!

Therefore, the greatest characteristic of Lu cuisine preparation was its unique use of fire and absolute precision in thermal intensity. Without exaggeration, a standard Lu cuisine chef could control fire with the precision of a rocket launching into space. Without looking at a watch, if they said stir-frying for fifteen seconds, it would not be a fraction of a second more or less; if they said braising for an hour, it would not exceed half a second.

Lu cuisine demanded precisely this exactness and mastery.

Thus, I considered myself second to none when it came to fire control.

If I were to lose to Lei Ren of the Five Ridges Temple in "Knife and Fire in Unison"—a contest that best showcased fire control—I might as well buy a piece of tofu and smash my head against it.

Because of this, I accepted Lei Ren's challenge without the slightest hesitation. Not only would I compete, but I would do so using the most classic and primitive method! I wanted to prove that indomitable spirit!

In a flash, Lei Ren and I stood tit-for-tat, locked in a fierce confrontation.

Right then and there, like duelists, we wrote down the formal agreement and pressed our thumbprints. Lei Ren wore a sly, scheming smile, while I harbored my strength in silence.

The gathering shadows of a monumental battle were already rolling in.