Transmigrating to the Tang Dynasty: My Restaurant System Can Be Upgraded

He was the business doctor in modern food service who knew best how to die: he had seen four hundred restaurants go under and gone bankrupt himself three times. After waking from a nap, he transmigrated to Chang'an in the Tang Dynasty, becoming the young master of a small tavern in the Western Market that was on the verge of closing. He was in debt, his engagement had been broken off, and his rivals laughed at him.

Then the Fourfold Identity System in his mind chimed in.

A chef's eye: cut down the menu, set up standard procedures, and build a central kitchen. Three moves turned the failing tavern into a place with a queue stretching all the way to Zhuque Avenue. A tea master's palate: reinvent Tang-style boiled tea as Chang'an iced tea, and send the Western Market's literati scrambling to top up their membership cards. A consultant's mind: wield three blades, efficiency per square foot, staff productivity, and product performance, until his rivals were cut down to the point of seeking a buyout. A doctor's heart: give the imperial relatives business checkups, and even Wu Zetian would nod along.

His eight heroines each had their own skills: accounting, logistics, research and development, public relations, government relations, and more. They all threw themselves at him. It wasn't that he had no time for romance. He was genuinely too busy, going from one shabby shop in the Western Market to a chain of eight hundred businesses across the Tang Empire, then building Chang'an Inn waystations along the Silk Road so densely that they outnumbered beacon towers.

His rivals called it sorcery, his opponents accused him of monopolizing the market, and the court audited his books. In the end, they all gave in, because no one could understand how a man could know the kitchen, the books, and the human heart all at once.

Later, he was honored as the Great Sage of Tang Cuisine. But what made him proudest was not the imperial golden seal. It was the Rules of the Restaurant Business, which he wrote on his sickbed. A thousand years later, an archaeological team unearthed it and found a line that left modern readers silent and Tang-era readers in tears.