I transmigrated into the body of an amnesiac cook in a general’s household, only to discover that the entire kitchen staff was slacking off.
The cooks had all lost their appetites, and even put twice the usual amount of bitter coptis root in the porridge they made for the general.
Then I won them over with deep-fried potato chips, and the general suddenly appeared. “That flavor...”
While traveling with the army to provide disaster relief, I saved refugees with mashed potatoes. The general, however, stared in silence at the drawings I had made of modern kitchen utensils.
On a freezing night at the frontier, I made hot pot to boost morale. He wrapped his cloak around me. “Don’t move. There’s a spy.”
In the enemy camp, he took an arrow for me. When his cold poison flared up, I cried as I treated him with acupuncture. “If you dare to die, I’ll remarry!”
In the end, he reclaimed three cities, but defied the imperial decree to refuse a marriage arranged for him. “This humble general already has a wife. She’s a girl who knows how to make spicy stir-fried pork.”
