That Emily Thompson was about to leave, but now, seeing the two cousins start to argue, she refused to go. Instead, she leaned against the counter, watching the commotion with cold eyes, looking as if she wished for nothing more than chaos in the world.

Brian Carter was furious when he heard David Carter tell him to transfer the shop. He had crossed over to this world, finally managed to build a family business, and was counting on being a rich second generation. Now he was being told to sell everything he had—what kind of cousin was this, if not someone here to sabotage him?

Facing David Carter's aggressive attitude, a flood of memories surged in Brian Carter's mind. When he was young, every time he met this cousin, he would get pinned to the ground and beaten up. No wonder the brothers didn't get along—there was a history behind it. No wonder David Carter, as the cook, wasn't the least bit afraid of his boss. Think about it: if someone beat you up every few days, would you still respect them?

Brian Carter couldn't take it anymore. He suddenly stood up, looking fierce, and in that instant, his gaze had already killed David Carter hundreds of times. He shouted sharply, "All you care about is money, money, money! A person needs faith. Without faith, how are you any different from a salted fish?"

David Carter started panting heavily.

Based on Brian Carter's years of experience getting beaten up, this guy looked like he was about to lose it.

Well, a scholar meets a soldier.

So he could only droop his head, pick up his chopsticks, and say, "Alright, alright, let's eat first. I'm hungry."

He picked up some food. The dish was so black it was hard to tell what it was. Brian Carter had tasted all the world's delicacies in his previous life, but he didn't really understand the culinary style of this era, so he cautiously put the food in his mouth.

Seeing his cousin back down, David Carter felt like a victorious general and was about to sit down.

But after the first bite, Brian Carter was furious. He slammed his chopsticks down, stood up, and shouted, "What the hell is this? How can you serve this to people? No wonder the restaurant is doing badly—so that's the reason!"

Chapter 2: My Wife, My Decision

In David Carter's eyes, his cousin was just a bookworm, always quoting the classics, weak and frail, unable to withstand a single blow. Besides, he owed wages, so he wasn't in the right. Although technically his employer, he always acted like a mouse in front of a cat. But today, for some reason, he was suddenly furious.

So David Carter was enraged. "How is my cooking not fit for people? You're the one who can't run the business, and now that there are no customers, you push all the blame on me—how is that fair?"

Brian Carter's gaze was clear, but he suppressed his anger. As a gourmet, he had tasted the world's finest foods and was a leader in the culinary world, with a very picky palate. Eating this food made him furious.

Brian Carter laughed, a contemptuous smile.

He curled his lips and said slowly, "Still trying to argue? Fine, let's get to the bottom of this."

David Carter almost laughed. His cousin was just a bookworm—how could you debate about stir-frying? Did he think this was some scholarly discussion?

But Brian Carter picked up a piece of "food" with a look of disgust and said, "This... is supposed to be eggplant, right? Hey, when you cooked this eggplant, you used too much water and added some sesame oil, but you added it after cooking, didn't you? It's a shame. This is eggplant, and you still didn't use enough oil. You put in half a qian of salt, which is just about right, but you boiled the water away, so the flavor became too strong. You put in a handful of scallions, but the taste was covered up by the overcooked eggplant skin..."

David Carter listened in amazement, stunned.

Maybe Emily Thompson, who was watching the show, was still confused and didn't know if Brian Carter was telling the truth, but David Carter knew that his method for making this eggplant was exactly as Brian Carter described. He hadn't skimped on the salt—it was exactly half a qian. He had boiled away the water, so it was a bit burnt and the flavor was strong. He had added some sesame oil, but couldn't bear to use much, so he only added a few drops...

Brian Carter continued, "And the heat—you started with high heat, but you didn't know the pot needs to be warmed over low heat before adding the ingredients. Then you turn up the heat so the food cooks evenly, instead of some parts being undercooked and others burnt. If you can't even control the heat, how can you call yourself a cook?"

David Carter was shocked and involuntarily took a step back. He couldn't handle his cousin's aggressive questioning. Somehow, this frail body was suddenly so domineering when talking about cooking. Of course, the most important thing was that David Carter felt guilty, because... the way he had cooked the dish, even the control of the heat, was exactly as Brian Carter described. This left David Carter with no confidence at all.

At this point, Brian Carter said bluntly, "But that's not even the worst part. The most infuriating thing is that you wasted the ingredients. Not knowing the art of cooking is one thing—that's a skill issue. What pains me most is your attitude toward cooking. Yesterday you used that pot to make fish sashimi, right? Last night you cooked, but didn't even wash the pot. So the leftovers stuck to the bottom, and now, even though the eggplant covers the fish taste, the fishy smell still lingers in the eggplant. Tell me, do you think this dish is edible?"

This sharp question made David Carter instantly deflate.