Chapter 83: The Grand Culinary Tournament

“Hahaha…” Cheng Yaojin slapped his palm and laughed loudly. “Lord Changsun, you are far too naive. The Guanlong aristocratic clans have flourished since the Warring States period, surviving countless dynasties. They have controlled the economy of nearly every era. Do you know how the Sui dynasty met its end? Do you understand how our Great Tang rose to power? It was because the clans abandoned Emperor Yang of Sui and chose to support the Tang instead! If it were so easy to wipe them out, would they still be called aristocratic clans?”

“A mere Chef God Tournament—even if successfully held—how much impact could it really have?”

Cheng Yaojin shook his head, finding the notion laughable.

“Enough, we’ll speak of this later. Let the Ministry of Rites oversee the Chef God Tournament,” said Li Shimin.

“Wise indeed, Your Majesty!” Cheng Yaojin curled his lip and made a funny face towards Changsun Wuji, eliciting a touch of comedy.

Li Zhi, who had remained silent, slowly stepped to Li Shimin’s side. “After hearing Lord Changsun and General Cheng debate, I have an idea.”

“Oh?” The others turned to him.

Li Zhi said, “Once the Chef God Tournament is over, I will have plenty of time. May I take charge of curbing the power of the aristocratic clans?”

His words amused everyone. Looking at the tiny Li Zhi, barely two feet tall, Li Shimin smiled and asked, “Zhi’er, do you even know what an aristocratic clan is?”

“No, but I can learn!” How could Li Zhi not know? But as a mere three-year-old child, he couldn’t act too precocious, lest he arouse suspicion.

“Father, don’t forget—I am a genius! Any book I read once, I can recite fluently. I believe I’ll soon understand everything about the clans!”

“No need…” Li Shimin was no fool. Such matters of state could not be handed to Li Zhi as a plaything. If anything went wrong, the clans’ retaliation would be catastrophic.

“Changsun, since you have a plan, proceed as you described! Keep me updated at all times—I want to know every step you take.”

“I obey, Your Majesty!”

Li Shimin agreed to take action against the clans, entrusting the matter to Changsun Wuji.

Li Zhi blinked, “Father, are you underestimating me?”

“When you’re older, you can help me shoulder these burdens. For now, focus on your studies—and on the upcoming Chef God Tournament. I’m eagerly waiting for you to become the very first Chef God!”

“Sigh…” Li Zhi was speechless. As expected, it was all a matter of age.

A three-year-old handling affairs of state—it was simply unthinkable. And his rival was the seasoned Changsun Wuji. Between the two, Li Shimin naturally chose the latter.

“Forget it! I only wanted to have some fun. Since father disagrees, pretend I never spoke.” Li Zhi pouted.

The Chef God Tournament was about to begin. Everyone headed off to prepare.

Wen Dayan, Minister of Rites, aged seventy, shuffled slowly to the stage, clutching the ceremonial register. In a deliberate tone, he announced, “The first Chef God Tournament…begins!”

He was well past retirement age, but Li Shimin could not bear to let him go, keeping him in office until now.

Watching him preside—so slow, so shaky—it seemed a gust of wind might topple him. If he couldn’t catch his breath, he might simply pass away.

Everyone present felt nervous for him.

Cheng Yaojin approached Li Shimin, scratching his head. “Your Majesty, is Lord Wen all right?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve heard his health is poor. If he collapses during the event…the Chef God Tournament would become his funeral, how unlucky that would be!”

“Don’t speak nonsense!” Li Shimin rebuked him. He appeared calm, but inside he was worried.

Wen Dayan announced the tournament rules. All chefs took their places.

“Zhi’er, today you must make your father proud—become the Chef God. Are you confident?” Before the contest, Li Shimin called Li Zhi over.

Princess Changle, Li Lizhi, sat nearby, smiling. “Father, rest assured! If Zhi can’t become Chef God, who else could possibly deserve that title?”

“It’s exactly because he’s competing that both I and Cheng Chubi withdrew…otherwise, hmph!”

Li Lizhi still felt wistful. Had Li Zhi not participated, she felt certain she could have claimed the title herself.

“Father…I will do my best!” Li Zhi replied.

“Good! Go on, then.”

“Yes!”

Li Zhi took a finely crafted, ornate pouch from Luo Tong’s hand and walked steadily towards the contest arena.

“What’s in that pouch? A special ingredient?” Li Shimin asked Luo Tong.

“This…” Luo Tong had promised Li Zhi not to reveal the contents ahead of time, so he replied, “Yes, Your Majesty, it is indeed a special ingredient. Thus far, no one in Great Tang has ever tasted it.”

“Oh?” Li Shimin was delighted. “It seems Zhi’er is well prepared—I am even more excited now.”

“Zhi’er is gifted—he will surely surprise Your Majesty!” said Empress Changsun.

Li Shimin nodded.

At that moment, Li Lizhi and Cheng Chubi whispered together, secretly glad. “Princess, it’s a good thing we didn’t compete. Master has a hidden card—he prepared a special ingredient.”

“Yes, yes! This time, the Chef God will definitely be him!”

All eyes were on Li Zhi. The whole venue waited in anticipation!

Li Zhi reached his station and waved to Wen Dayan. “Sir, I’m ready—when do we begin?”

Around him stood many chefs, all having traveled from various regions to compete. Among them were palace chefs. As long as one possessed skill, one could participate.

“Please be patient, Your Highness. Once I confirm the list…” Wen Dayan opened his register, almost pressing his face to the pages, slowly reading out the names of contestants.

When he read Li Zhi’s name, the other chefs were astonished. To compete alongside a prince—especially one less than four years old—could he really cook? Wouldn’t this be a predetermined victory?

With that thought, anxiety swept the crowd.

“Your Highness, what ingredient have you brought?” Li Nan, envoy of the Southern Mud tribe, asked curiously from nearby.

“Guess,” Li Zhi replied.

“Could it be yellow clay?” Li Nan recalled that Li Zhi had recently requested a batch of yellow clay from him. He’d thought it was just for play, but now it seemed more serious.

“Correct! Hehe…but you must keep it a secret!” Li Zhi winked at him.

“What?” Li Nan was shocked. Li Zhi was really using yellow clay as his ingredient? That stuff was dry and unpalatable—could it possibly become a delicacy, let alone win the championship?

“Your Highness, do you not wish to be Chef God?”

“I do!”

“Then why use yellow clay as your ingredient?” Li Nan shook his head and sighed. “For Your Highness to use yellow clay is the highest honor for my tribe, but the Chef God Tournament is no trivial matter. Please choose another ingredient—do not let my humble tribe be the cause of your loss!”