America, 1928: This Chef Is Not to Be Messed With

San Francisco, 1920. After transmigrating into the body of a chef, Zhang Yi brought with him Ma Dong-seok's physique and top-tier Chinese culinary skills as he joined a Chinatown restaurant on the verge of bankruptcy. This was the worst of times: Chinese immigrants walked on thin ice, were extorted for double protection fees, and police guns were always pointed at the foreheads of people from the East. His uncle was timid, his fellow chefs schemed against him, and the kitchen was divided against itself. Hoping to make a living through his culinary skills? Zhang Yi discovered that in this cannibalistic city, he first had to learn to settle arguments with his fists. White men come looking for trouble? Beat them flat, then invite them to a bowl of Heartbroken Noodles. Gangs come to smash the restaurant? Disable their hands and feet, then negotiate a deal in bootleg liquor. The law is a toy of the powerful? Then turn the congressman into an honored guest of Chinese cuisine. When the sign for the Peace Hotel was raised at the busiest intersection in Los Angeles, everyone understood: The chef here can cook dishes that save lives, and dishes that take yours.