Chapter 419: A Bow
The news that Qi Han was going to publicly teach the technique for making Egg Fried Rice spread across Shrek City like a sudden gust of wind.
With the Culinary Association using its own promotional channels, the first to learn of this were all the restaurant owners in Shrek City, followed by everyone else.
Not only that—because they wished to fulfill Qi Han's request, the promotional channels extending beyond Shrek City, covering other cities as well, were activated at once. In the next two or three days, this news would spread across most of the Douluo Continent, just like the previous food festival ranking list.
Meanwhile, the merchants on the food street rushed toward the market after the brief uproar.
They vaguely remembered that there was a stall in the market that specialized in selling Five-Colored Brocade Chicken eggs.
But when they got there, not only were all the eggs gone, even the stall owner was nowhere to be found. The vendor next door told them that the stall owner, named Cao Yun, had already sold out every last egg and packed up for the day.
Feeling extremely frustrated, the merchants could only buy up regular chicken eggs as substitutes.
All of a sudden, every stall selling eggs in Shrek City became unexpectedly busy. Before the vendors even understood what was happening, their entire stock of eggs had already been swept clean.
Once they learned the reason behind it all, they could only sigh regretfully—while secretly deciding to raise egg prices in the coming days.
But it wasn't just egg vendors who suddenly saw business booming. Another group of people also received a flood of orders for no apparent reason.
The blacksmiths of Shrek City.
All of these large orders requested the forging of the same type of item—strictly speaking, two types—and even the blueprints given to them were identical.
Once they figured out what was going on, the blacksmiths were overjoyed.
They loved this kind of bulk order for standardized items, and since the customers didn't even bother haggling—only asking the blacksmiths to make those strange-looking woks and ladles well—the blacksmiths gladly got to work.
And so, without Qi Han knowing anything at all—since he had returned to Han Shi and immediately entered the training space to study the three new dishes—he managed, all on his own, to send both egg vendors and blacksmiths into a sudden boom in business.
Right now, he was inside the training space, learning how to make Pheasant Soup while chatting with Peng Zu's lingering soul.
"Senior Peng Zu…"
"Ah! No, that's not right!"
Beside Qi Han, an elderly man with snow-white hair waved his hand with a cheerful smile. "Peng Zu is merely what people of later generations call this old man. It is not my actual name. My surname is Jian (pronounced like 'Jian' in 'firm') and my given name is Keng (rhymes with 'heng'). Because Emperor Yao granted me a fief in Peng City, and because the Great Peng clan began with me, I later came to be known as 'Peng Zu.'"
So that's how it is?
Qi Han finally understood. "Then Senior Jian Keng, did you really live for eight hundred years?"
"Do you believe it?"
The elderly man glanced sideways at Qi Han with a mischievous grin, like a playful old child.
"To be honest, no." Qi Han shook his head.
In the Douluo Continent, he could believe someone living eight hundred years. But on Earth—an ordinary world—no normal human could possibly live that long.
"Indeed, I don't believe it either."
Jian Keng nodded. As he saw the confusion in Qi Han's eyes, the smile on his face grew even more playful. "Do you know about the 'Minor Sexagenary Year System'?"
"No…" Qi Han shook his head blankly. "Though I do like eating clams…"
"Ah…" Jian Keng sighed. "Such ignorance!"
"I am the great-grandson of Zhuanxu, and in the era I lived, the calendar we used was called the 'Minor Sexagenary Year System'…"
Seeing Qi Han still look puzzled, Jian Keng chuckled. "To put it simply—one year was counted as sixty days."
"This old man does understand health preservation, so I did live long. If converted to the current calendar, I lived about a hundred and thirty years."
…Huh?
Qi Han's expression froze. He silently began counting on his fingers.
Sixty days was a year back then, so one modern year equaled six of their years…
One hundred and thirty years, multiplied by six…
That was about eight hundred years…
Goodness! Truly goodness!
"All right, your confusion is resolved. Now focus on practicing!" Jian Keng said cheerfully. "I have spent thousands of years in this system space researching and refining this Pheasant Soup. It's far more complicated than the one Emperor Yao once tasted. You'll need quite a bit of practice, boy!"
"Yes, senior."
…
Qi Han had indeed expected that his proposal to publicly teach Egg Fried Rice might cause some stir—but he had greatly underestimated the degree of that stir.
When he bade farewell to Senior Jian Keng in the training space and returned to the real world, he immediately discovered a large crowd gathered outside Han Shi.
And this group wasn't the usual customers of Han Shi. They stood quietly on the opposite side of the line of waiting diners, positioned neatly behind the shop's employees.
What was going on?
Qi Han scratched his head and walked toward the entrance.
He opened the door to let his five employees in first, then curiously looked over the crowd.
It wasn't until he spotted several familiar faces among them that realization dawned. "You all are…?"
"How could we possibly not come to thank Boss Qi in person, when you're willing to teach us the art of Egg Fried Rice?"
Long Hanyun, owner of Nine Dragons Delicacy, stood at the front of the group. With a solemn expression, he bowed deeply to Qi Han.
"Thank you, Boss Qi."
Behind him were all the merchants from Shrek City's food street—members of the monthly-lease business group—standing in formation, each bowing deeply under Long Hanyun's lead.
"This…"
Qi Han suddenly felt overwhelmed. "Everyone, please get up. There's no need for this."
It wasn't that serious. He was only teaching them how to make Egg Fried Rice, right?
In his previous life on Earth, countless content creators uploaded cooking tutorials online, teaching people all kinds of recipes. None of them were ever thanked this ceremoniously.
Qi Han's thinking was still heavily shaped by his past life, so he truly couldn't understand the reaction.
But to the food street merchants, everything was completely natural.
Zhang Heng from the Culinary Association wasn't a chef, so he didn't grasp the significance. But when he informed the food street merchants about Qi Han's plan to publicly teach Egg Fried Rice, the chefs understood immediately.
For any chef, their cooking skills were their greatest secret—the means by which they survived, earned money, and built their livelihood. Only the closest disciples were ever taught everything. Others, if they wanted to learn, had no choice but to steal techniques.
And "stealing" techniques already implied something—it meant cooking skills were as valuable and private as money, something to be treasured.
Qi Han's action, therefore, was—at least in the eyes of the Douluo Continent's chefs—no different from a wealthy man distributing his fortune to everyone.
What kind of grace and virtue was that?
Perhaps "etched into their very bones" was an exaggeration, but Qi Han's gesture certainly deserved a deep bow, and even the respect reserved for a half-master.
So it didn't take long after hearing the news for all the food street merchants to gather in front of Han Shi—just to personally express their heartfelt gratitude to Boss Qi.
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