Five-star executive chef Shen Yue traveled through the Zhenguan period of the Tang Dynasty, inherited a dilapidated tavern, and was bound to the God of Cookery system.
He just wants to cook quietly and run the tavern well. Until one day, the soft glutinous dumpling wearing a pomegranate red skirt was attracted by the smell of meat and entered the store - "Guo Guo, can you bring me something fragrant?"
From then on, he had an additional identity in his life: the most favored female chef of the Tang Dynasty.
Sizi wants something sweet? Enough pudding and starry sky lollipops.
Si Zi is weak? A bowl of medicinal porridge a day, served by Guo Guo himself.
Li Shimin secretly visited incognito? A bowl of Dongpo pork is ready.
Is the queen suffering from anger? The special recipe is just the cure.
He originally thought that time travel was just to open a restaurant in another place in ancient times, until the system popped up a mission: "Reverse the destiny - to renew the life of Princess Jinyang against heaven. Countdown: ten years."
He opened the belongings of his original father and found a rusty horizontal knife and a broken page of knife manual as big as a bowl.
He practiced his swordsmanship by the stove and secretly learned the general's shooting habits in the fumes from cooking pots. There were no shortcuts on this road, just chopping vegetables, chopping bones, turning pots and spoons day after day.
There was also a silent girl who walked into his kitchen filled with oil smoke from the palace and asked him: Is it difficult to be alone?
He was stunned for a long time and replied: It's difficult. But some things are difficult and you have to endure them yourself.
She said no more. But from that day on, she would bring an extra lamp with her every time she came.
——He practiced his martial arts to the point where he could protect her, and his cooking skills were so good that even Tian Khan nodded secretly.
He bet his life on a pot of Jiuzhuan Yangyuan soup, and suffered frostbite on three of his fingers, just to exchange for the one who stood on tiptoes to pick at his door frame.
