I Sell Barbecue in Xianyang, and the First Emperor Is My Biggest Fan

Su Xun, a modern culinary genius, slept for a thousand years and woke up in Xianyang after the Qin unified the six kingdoms. He planned to use his extraordinary cooking skills to open a small restaurant in the imperial capital, earn a comfortable living, and enjoy a peaceful life away from the world.

Who knew fate had already written a different script? Not long after opening, he accidentally saved Fusu, the emperor’s eldest son, who was on the brink of death from a terrible illness. The incident caused a stir in the Xianyang Palace, and his quiet little restaurant became a place where dragons and tigers lurked.

A middle-aged man who called himself “Old Zhao,” with a sharp gaze and an air of hidden authority, became a regular. Over meals, he was always worrying about the fate of the nation, lamenting the shortage of provisions for the northern campaign against the Xiongnu and the miasma that threatened the southern campaign against the Baiyue. After hearing enough, Su Xun casually offered some advice: “Potatoes can withstand the cold, and sweet potatoes produce high yields. They could solve the army’s food shortage. Penicillin kills bacteria, and strong liquor disinfects. They might help fight the miasma in the south.” Every remark left “Old Zhao” stunned.

Gradually, the restaurant’s customers became ever more unfathomable. There was a peerless swordsman, silent as the depths and radiating sword energy (Gai Nie), an impassioned Mohist thinker, and even aloof, proud sorcerers from the Yin-Yang School, all becoming guests for the sake of a taste of the food. Su Xun moved among them, using one divine dish after another, each beyond its time, to subtly influence the fate of the empire and the balance of power in the martial world.

Until the day “Old Zhao,” clad in the majestic black dragon robe of the Qin, arrived at the little restaurant surrounded by countless elite soldiers. Pointing at a huge map of the realm, he asked in a solemn voice, “Mr. Su, what kind of pot and ingredients should I use to cook up a feast of peace that will last for all generations?”

Clutching the wok spatula in his hand, Su Xun was completely dumbfounded. I really... just wanted to be a cook!