Chapter Sixteen: Transforming into a Michelin Chef

The next day, Pujiang Countryside Park.

Pujiang Countryside Park is located on Puxing Highway in the MH District. March and April are the seasons when flowers bloom in full splendor, and in this park, nearly 89,000 tulips are in full bloom.

Moreover, its forest area is not only serene and beautiful with few visitors, but the camping lawn is also open to the public for free, allowing people to pitch tents and fly kites.

“Ah, this is nature!”

Chen Chuan exclaimed as soon as he got out of the car.

Though school days were good, there was nothing quite as pleasant as going camping and basking in the sun.

Zhang Yang got out from the driver’s seat of the BMW and called out, “Stop lazing around, come help move the stuff and get the camp set up.”

“Yeah, the girls will be here soon,” Xu Jiafeng chimed in.

The three of them were the “vanguard team.” After Wang Liu returned home, he handed the BMW 3 Series to Zhang Yang to drive, while he switched to a Mercedes E-Class to pick up the girls from Dorm 209.

“Here they come.”

Just as Chen Chuan approached the trunk, two sharp honks caught their attention.

A pink Maserati slowly pulled up and parked by the roadside of the park. From the driver’s seat, Xu Zhiruo greeted them warmly, “Hello, we’re not late, right?”

“You’re actually early,” Chen Chuan hurried forward with a smile, adding, “If you’d been ten minutes later, I’d have already set up the tent.”

“Exactly, you’re early,” Xu Jiafeng quickly agreed.

To show off his strength, he even lifted the tent poles deliberately.

Watching his two roommates fawn over the girls so quickly, Zhang Yang finally understood the existence of the so-called “bootlicker economy.”

“That’s perfect, then we can set up the tent together,” He Jing, who had just gotten out of the passenger seat, said. Today, she had specially changed into a cream-colored long dress that fluttered enchantingly in the breeze.

“Get out of the car.”

“Go go go!”

Wei Yunshi, sitting in the back of the Maserati, wore a floral long dress. Her youthful face radiated boundless vitality.

Lan Sisi and Xu Zhiruo dressed more traditionally, both opting for classic jeans paired with short-sleeved T-shirts.

“Need any help?” Lan Sisi came over to Zhang Yang and asked.

“No need, we’ve got this,” Chen Chuan quickly responded.

Zhang Yang glanced at the grassy lawn where the picnic mats had yet to be spread and suggested, “You girls can lay out the picnic mats and arrange the tables and chairs. We’ll handle the heavy lifting.”

“Okay!”

Lan Sisi went to fetch the picnic mats.

“I’ll help Yunshi set up the sunshade umbrella. Ruo Ruo, you bring down your mahjong set,” He Jing quickly directed the girls to get to work.

With the help of the opposite sex, Chen Chuan and Xu Jiafeng turned into “nuclear-powered donkeys,” not only pitching the tent but also assembling the barbecue grill and the outdoor stove with eager enthusiasm.

Zhang Yang was busy defrosting the ingredients for lunch and brewing a pot of tea.

By ten o’clock, Wang Liu arrived with four other girls from another dormitory and joined the camp setup.

...

Approaching noon.

The camping setup was nearly complete.

Four overlapping picnic mats formed a large leisure area, already adorned with snacks and fruits. Xu Zhiruo, Lan Sisi, Xu Jiafeng, and others were already engrossed in a game of mahjong.

Wang Liu took out a kite to play with two girls from Dorm 209.

As the appointed chef, Zhang Yang wore a somewhat resigned expression. He understood why his “sons” had called him out—it was because he was responsible for cooking.

But having lived abroad for decades in his previous life, he had picked up excellent culinary skills and enjoyed the cooking process.

“What should we have for lunch?”

“Western or Chinese food?” Zhang Yang asked.

He Jing, who was playing Dou Dizhu, looked up and asked, “What kind of Western food?”

“I want Chinese food,” Xu Zhiruo declared loudly.

“Western food would be steak with pasta, and there’s red wine in the car to go with it. As for Chinese, I see we have rice, so I can make a simple shrimp and ham scallion fried rice, complemented by fish head soup and braised fried fish,” Zhang Yang said after checking the ingredients.

“Chef Dad, I want it all!” Chen Chuan said without any pretension.

“Pfft!”

His remark made all the girls burst into laughter.

Xu Jiafeng felt a bit embarrassed and subtly gave Zhang Yang a look, as if to say, “You owe me for that ‘Dad’ comment.”

“I’ll help.”

He Jing wanted to lend a hand.

Zhang Yang, who usually cooked alone, shook his head, declining, “You guys just have fun. I’m not used to having helpers.”

“You’ll get used to it,” He Jing smiled calmly.

“Wow~”

Her words prompted delighted exclamations from those playing mahjong and Dou Dizhu nearby, as if there was a story behind it.

Xu Zhiruo instantly felt a sense of urgency and quickly stood up, saying, “I’ll help too. I’m great at washing vegetables at home.”

“I’ll come too,” Xu Jiafeng stood up immediately.

“Go, go, go. Stop messing around, just wait to eat,” Zhang Yang refused again, then began prepping the ingredients.

“Zhang Yang is so manly~” Zhuang Yingmeng from Dorm 209 teased.

“Trying to flirt, hehe,” another girl from Dorm 209 was even bolder.

Chen Chuan and Xu Jiafeng exchanged worried glances. They had been so focused on making Zhang Yang the chef that they had overlooked the man’s irresistible charm.

“Ahem.”

Chen Chuan stood up and said, “Actually, I know how to make fried rice too.”

“Don’t come to mess things up.”

“Alright then.”

Zhang Yang’s words made Chen Chuan obediently sit back down and return to mahjong.

...

After refusing everyone’s help, Zhang Yang first cooked the rice in the rice cooker, then loaded the fuel into the portable stove. He brushed olive oil onto the pan before lighting the burner.

One second.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

He held his hand above the pan, feeling the rising heat.

When the temperature was just right, he put a scrap piece of steak into the pan. The moment it touched the surface, it sizzled and smoked.

As the blood seeped out and mingled with the olive oil, he picked up a regular-sized steak with tongs and seared the edges to lock in the juices.

After sealing the edges, he pan-fried the steak, flipping between sides.

The meat oozed some blood and had developed a caramelized crust.

He Jing, standing nearby, couldn’t help but ask, “How cooked should it be?”

“Medium-well. Medium-rare might upset your stomach,” Zhang Yang replied.

“What was the step where you seared the edges just now?” He Jing asked again.

“Sealing the edges. It’s a common Michelin chef technique that retains the steak’s internal juices, making it more tender,” Zhang Yang explained.

“Oh, I see,” He Jing said thoughtfully, as if she had learned something new.

Eating steak is all about tenderness and juiciness. Some top-tier ranch steaks can even be served rare.

Zhang Yang’s cooking skills were superb. After finishing the steaks, he used the leftover juices to prepare the pasta.

Western dishes done, he didn’t neglect the Chinese meal.

He took the freshly cooked rice, set it aside, then heated oil in a wok. He cracked ten eggs and scrambled them, then added shrimp, diced carrots, diced cucumbers, and ham, cooking everything through. He then added the rice, soy sauce, and salt, finishing with a sprinkle of scallions for garnish.

As the dishes were served, the lively chatter around the camp gradually quieted, replaced by words of praise.

“The steak is so tender, absolutely delicious!”

“What kind of fried rice is this? It’s literally my dream dish. The shrimp adds freshness, the ham enhances aroma, and the scallions are the perfect touch. Full marks, definitely full marks!”

“Zhang Yang may not be the most handsome at Shanghai University of Finance and Economics, but he’s definitely the best cook!”

“He’s the most handsome!”

“I agree!”