Chapter 53: Adaptation is for Survival, Not for Self-Destruction

Wenyao smiled sheepishly. “I’m really clumsy, so I’ll pass. Otherwise, I’m afraid Doctor Jin will kick me out, and I’d hate to cause trouble for my brother.”

Her words made Doctor Jin and Manager Qiu burst into hearty laughter.

The medicinal cabinets had nearly all been scrubbed, and without realizing it, she had almost reached a thousand points. With their arrival, Wenyao felt it was inappropriate to linger at the medicine cabinets, so she brought over the sweet and sour pork she’d prepared. Unfortunately, it had already cooled.

On her way here, she’d secretly kept it warm in her storage space, which was why it was still hot when Hong Hai saw it. Now that she was in the clinic, if it stayed hot for too long, it might raise suspicions.

Manager Qiu pointed toward the backyard. “There’s a kitchen back there,” he said, suggesting she could go warm the food up.

Wenyao raised her brows in delight. “That’s perfect! I’ll go buy some vegetables and cook lunch for you all.”

Manager Qiu and Doctor Jin exchanged glances and laughed. “Then we’ll look forward to tasting your cooking at noon.”

“No problem, leave it to me. I’ll go buy the groceries now.” Wenyao placed the sweet and sour pork in the kitchen and, carrying her basket, headed out.

Both Manager Qiu and Doctor Jin were fond of Wenyao. They watched her walk away before turning to their respective tasks—Manager Qiu to tally up the previous day’s accounts, and Doctor Jin to quiz Wenjun on his studies from the night before.

Wenyao headed straight for Butcher Zheng’s stall with her basket.

“Uncle Zheng.”

Butcher Zheng smiled broadly when he saw her. “Wenyao, you’re here. What would you like today? I’ll cut it for you.”

She picked out a piece of pork belly, planning to make braised pork for lunch. Then she told him, “Uncle Zheng, my father will take my brother to find a teacher the day after tomorrow. Please deliver the goods early tomorrow. Also, we’ll need the pig intestines then, too. My aunt’s family will be hosting a celebration in a few days, so my father will help out there. We’ll be taking a break from setting up our stall, just so you know, so you don’t make a trip for nothing.”

“Noted. I’ve reserved everything for you. I’ll deliver them to your father tomorrow evening. Just let me know when you’ll be back to selling, and I’ll bring more then,” Butcher Zheng replied.

After thanking him and telling him to put the meat on her tab, Wenyao went off to buy the rest of the groceries.

When she returned, the clinic was already seeing patients. She saw Wenjun standing attentively by Doctor Jin’s side, observing him as he treated patients. Wenyao exchanged greetings with Manager Qiu and Hong Hai, then headed to the backyard to prepare lunch.

People came and went, and time passed quickly. As noon approached, a delicious aroma began wafting from the backyard. It wasn’t just the four people in the clinic—patients waiting for treatment also couldn’t help but sniff the air, drawn by the enticing smell.

Manager Qiu handed the front desk over to Hong Hai and hurried straight to the kitchen in the backyard.

“Wenyao, what are you making that smells so good? I could smell it from the front!” he exclaimed as he entered. Steam was rising from the pot, and the fragrance was coming from within.

Wenyao was holding a spatula, reducing the sauce for the braised pork.

“Braised pork, Uncle Qiu. Here, have a taste,” she said, scooping out a piece and offering it to him in a bowl.

Manager Qiu brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, clicking his tongue in admiration. “What a wonderful aroma.”

Not only did it smell good, but it looked beautiful too—alternating layers of fat and lean, the meat quivered enticingly when he shook the bowl. He picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. It was rich but not greasy, the texture soft and silky, melting instantly in his mouth. His eyes widened in delight, and he nodded repeatedly. This was the best braised pork he had ever tasted.

“Excellent! Sweet but not cloying, cooked to perfection, melting in the mouth. Wenyao, your cooking is on par with the chefs at Drunken Immortal Pavilion,” he praised sincerely.

Wenyao smiled. “It’s just a hobby of mine—no comparison with professional chefs.”

Manager Qiu put down the bowl and wiped his mouth with a cloth, pleased. “We’re in for a treat at noon!”

Wenyao set out the braised pork, then began preparing other dishes. “Once you and Doctor Jin are done, we’ll have lunch.”

“Alright, I’ll check if there are any patients left. When we’re free, we’ll come back here,” Manager Qiu replied cheerfully, hands clasped behind his back as he left.

Wenyao reheated the sweet and sour pork, stir-fried two vegetarian dishes, and made a tofu and egg custard. Four dishes and a soup were soon arranged on the table.

Doctor Jin finished seeing his last patient—who, tempted by the delicious aroma, found it hard to hide his hunger. Realizing it was noon and not wanting to trouble Doctor Jin further, the patient left after getting his medicine.

Although it was rare for patients to come at midday, Manager Qiu had Hong Hai secure the doors, leaving only a small side entrance just in case someone came with an emergency.

The four of them joked and laughed as they walked to the backyard, greeted by the mouthwatering scent from afar.

“Wow, Wenyao, so many delicious dishes!” Hong Hai was the first to rush into the kitchen. Seeing the four dishes and a soup on the table, he swallowed several times.

The food wasn’t just fragrant—it was visually appealing, too, making everyone’s appetite surge.

Doctor Jin, who had once served as an imperial physician, was no stranger to the finest delicacies. He remained composed, stroking his beard as he nodded in approval. “Indeed, very well done.”

“Master, please have a seat,” Wenjun said, pulling out a stool for Doctor Jin and helping him sit, then fetching him a bowl of rice.

“Manager, please sit,” Hong Hai echoed, following Wenjun’s example.

Doctor Jin and Manager Qiu enjoyed being waited on, exchanging words as they settled in. Once everyone was seated, Wenyao said, “Doctor Jin, Uncle Qiu, please try it and see if it’s any good.”

Manager Qiu chuckled. “I’ve already tasted it. Old Jin, give it a try.”

Doctor Jin picked up his chopsticks and, under everyone’s expectant gaze, sampled a piece of meat. After a long moment, he nodded. “Very good—quite unexpected that someone so young should have such skill in the kitchen.”

Manager Qiu teased, “How does it compare to the imperial chefs you used to have?”

In her previous life, Wenyao had greatly admired those with culinary talent, especially imperial chefs—the very best in the country, who cooked solely for the emperor. She looked at Doctor Jin curiously. “Doctor Jin, you’ve eaten food made by imperial chefs? Was it delicious?”

Doctor Jin smiled warmly. “I was fortunate enough to be honored by my master’s favor. The palace chefs are from generations of skilled families, though some are chosen from among the common folk. Wenyao, your skills may not yet match the imperial chefs, but you are already quite exceptional.

What matters most is that you’re still young. If you truly dedicate yourself to this craft, you have the potential to achieve greatness.”

He looked at Wenyao and added, “If you are serious about this path, study diligently. Though I’ve left the Imperial Medical Academy, I still know several chefs in the palace. Perhaps one day, I could introduce you.”

Becoming a palace chef—surely the dream of every cook. But that wasn’t Wenyao’s ambition. After watching so many palace intrigue dramas in her previous life, she knew all too well how treacherous and brutal the royal court could be, far more ruthless than anything depicted on television.

They were adapting to this era to survive, not to risk their lives for glory.

Wenyao waved her hands in embarrassed refusal. “Thank you, Doctor Jin, but I’m just dabbling for my own enjoyment. I wouldn’t dare dream of becoming an imperial chef.”