Last night he really did make fish sashimi, and he really was too lazy to wash the pot. After all, the restaurant was about to go under, and he felt there was no future here, so he planned to collect his wages and make a run for it. But...

David Carter couldn't help but pinch a piece of burnt eggplant and stuff it into his mouth, tasting it carefully. There was no trace of the fish sashimi flavor left—how did this guy even taste it?

Seeing David Carter looking suspicious and uncertain, Brian Carter barked sternly, "With eggplant made like yours, it's no wonder there are no customers. Even now you refuse to change your ways. Go to the kitchen and light the fire for me—I'll show you what real eggplant is!"

His presence was commanding, his tone brooking no argument—there was not a trace left of his former timid self.

David Carter, as if under some spell, actually felt a bit of awe for this younger cousin. Still, he was unwilling to admit defeat. As he headed to the kitchen, he muttered, "I want to see if you can really pull off something special."

Emily Thompson watched in amazement—the bookworm had finally woken up. She had tried to play matchmaker and failed, and was rather annoyed with Brian Carter. But as a woman, seeing the once muddle-headed scholar suddenly become so imposing, she now looked at Brian Carter with shining eyes, sensing an unstoppable sharpness about him. Emily Thompson, almost involuntarily, followed after them.

The restaurant's kitchen was quite spacious, but it was covered in grease and filth, clearly not cleaned for a long time, with oil stains everywhere.

Brian Carter couldn't help but frown. To him, cooking was no longer just a means to make food, but a form of art. In his view, the place where one displayed culinary skills should be clean and tidy. David Carter's sloppiness was truly hopeless.

But there was no time to worry about that now. He checked the pots, bowls, and utensils. The stove was made of brick and stone, not much different from those in later times, but the pot was unlike modern ones. This was the early Tang dynasty, with Wu Zetian on the throne, and they hadn't yet made lightweight iron woks. That meant, in this era, stir-frying wasn't possible—only boiling with water.

As for seasonings, there was no need to go over and check—Brian Carter already had a good idea. Besides oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, there were scallions and ginger—nothing special.

"Wash the eggplant. Make sure it's clean."

Brian Carter already had a plan and directly ordered David Carter.

David Carter was a bit resentful, but still obediently washed the eggplant.

By this time, Brian Carter had picked up the kitchen knife. The knife was heavy, and this body lacked wrist strength, but it didn't matter—he just couldn't use some of his knife skills. Taking the eggplant, Brian Carter's hand moved like a nimble snake, and the chopping board immediately rang out with a rhythmic "pa pa pa" sound.

Brian Carter was extremely focused as he cut the vegetables, completely unaware that at this moment, both David Carter and Emily Thompson's eyes were about to pop out.

This bookworm's wrist was flying as he cut, fast as lightning. All they could see was the shadow of the dark kitchen knife and hear the rapid, rhythmic chopping, as the eggplant was quickly sliced into thin pieces. Even more astonishing, every slice was exactly the same, thin as paper.

"When did this fool learn such skills?"

In just a moment, one eggplant was fully sliced. By then, the pot was hot and glowing red. Without even looking, Brian Carter grabbed the half jug of oil on the table and poured it in. With a loud sizzle, several ounces of oil hit the scorching iron pot and exploded into a crackle.

"That much oil..." David Carter couldn't help but feel a pang.

But next, Brian Carter swiftly picked up the eggplant with the knife and dumped it straight into the pot. The pot immediately boiled, and the eggplant formed a perfect circle, neatly and steadily soaking in the oil.

A rich aroma wafted out. He covered the pot with an iron lid and said, "Meat!"

At his command, like a general in full command, David Carter quickly fetched the meat. Brian Carter took it, slapped it onto the chopping board, and, wielding the knife, chopped rapidly. In his previous life, he had honed his knife skills for ten years, excelling at using finesse. Although the knife wasn't quite to his liking, after weighing it in his hand, he quickly adapted, adjusting his force according to the knife's characteristics. In just a brief moment, he had minced the small piece of meat into a fine paste.

He lifted the lid, and the aroma of the oil instantly filled the air. Both Emily Thompson and David Carter felt their stomachs rumble with hunger. The smell was incredible—they had never imagined that ordinary oil and eggplant could produce such a fragrance.

The minced meat was scooped up with the knife and dropped right into the center of the eggplant. As soon as the meat hit the hot oil, it sizzled and released a burst of meaty aroma.

Brian Carter's hands didn't pause. Almost absentmindedly, he pinched a bit of salt and sprinkled it evenly in, not even lifting his eyelids, his attention fixed on the heat. Finally, he grabbed a plate from the side and, with a swift motion of the spatula, scooped everything out.

Not a single drop of oil spilled in the process. David Carter and Emily Thompson blinked, and saw a plate of eggplant land steadily on the dish.

The white minced meat and the ring of green eggplant complemented each other beautifully. The fragrant oil almost soaked the meat in the center, releasing a rich meaty aroma that made their mouths water.

Brian Carter placed the plate on the stove, folded his arms confidently, and said, "Eat!"

David Carter looked skeptical, and Emily Thompson was also doubtful. The two exchanged glances.