After a bit of casual chatting, the first pot arrived. As soon as the lid was lifted, the whole room was filled with a fragrant aroma. The diners’ faces tensed up, but their eyes all lit up!

In the double-handled flat pot, the light brown broth looked crystal clear. Dotted with bright red goji berries, deep red chili segments, tender white scallion stalks, and two green sprigs of cilantro, the soy-braised free-range chicken, with its rich yet not greasy aroma, instantly whetted everyone’s appetite.

“Iron Pot Free-Range Chicken! The signature dish of the Jian family. Please enjoy, everyone!” said James Brooks with a beaming smile as he lifted the lid, looking at the diners.

Mr. Brooks was the first to try a bite, raising his left thumb in approval.

The pretty girl Olivia scooped up a spoonful of broth, pursed her lips, and looked at James Brooks with bright, appreciative eyes.

The soup was rich and flavorful, yet it didn’t overpower the taste of the meat. Even the hardest part to season—the chicken breast—was tender and smooth, melting in the mouth and leaving a lingering fragrance. Only after tasting this lean, free-range chicken did one realize that this natural flavor was something those plump, farm-raised chickens could never compare to!

Nods of approval, exclamations of delight, and raised thumbs filled the room. With the sweet corn yellow wine, another round of praise erupted. Chopsticks and spoons crossed back and forth several times, and everyone completely ignored the waitstaff.

James Brooks smiled and stepped out, thinking to himself, “My dad’s cooking—its aroma seeps into the bones. I’ve never seen anyone eat it and not praise it.”

Pride and satisfaction—only at moments like this did James Brooks feel truly proud. Only when serving dishes did he feel valued by others.

From the earlier conversation, he’d picked up quite a bit. The fattest one was called Mr. Brooks by everyone. The prettiest girl was called Olivia. Someone else was referred to as Mr. Thompson—was it Olivia Thompson or Jiang Dijia!?... The beautiful woman turned out to be a leader too, called Mr. Foster. It seemed that, except for the two drivers, everyone here was a leader of some sort. James Brooks didn’t really care how high-ranking or beautiful they were. He was secretly pondering just how much he could charge them. Looking at that delicate little beauty, he almost couldn’t bear to go through with it!

But so what! His mom kept a tight watch on the accounts, and he was too embarrassed to ask for more money. If he didn’t take this chance to earn some extra pocket money, what else could he do! ... A sly, mischievous grin crept onto his face. Feeling secretly pleased, James Brooks left the hall and entered the kitchen to prepare the second pot...

……

……

Wild boar cooked in an earthen pot was a rare treat. If not for a stroke of luck, you might not get to taste it even if you had the money. There were no farm-raised wild boars in Wulong; occasionally, someone would hunt one or two in the mountains, and a familiar country relative would bring it to town to sell to a restaurant—only then did diners get to enjoy such a delicacy.

When the second small pot was brought out, the food-savvy Mr. Brooks was the first to praise it: “The real deal! I thought you guys might try to pass off something else.”

“Mr. Brooks, you can tell just by looking? Haven’t even tasted it yet,” the beautiful Mr. Foster said dismissively.

“Wild boar meat is darker, the fat layer is thin, the grain is coarse, but the skin is very crisp! Look at this pot—the skin is attached to the fat, the fat to the lean meat. Whether it’s the knife work or the cooking, it’s top-notch—done by a real expert!” Mr. Brooks explained, already reaching into the pot with his chopsticks to pick up a piece. After tasting it, he nodded repeatedly: “Mmm, mmm, mmm... Excellent! Not dry or tough, full of flavor, and just the right texture! No gamey or muddy taste, handled very well.”

A few of the men who knew their food tried it and nodded in approval. Pure wild boar, if not cooked well, would taste gamey and sour, but in the Jian family’s dish, all you tasted was the fragrance.

The most beautiful one looked at the pot of soy-braised, glistening wild boar, the skin shining, but she stuck out her tongue and didn’t dare pick up her chopsticks. With her rosy lips, fragrant tongue, and white teeth, she looked adorably hesitant, like a little girl wanting to eat but not daring to.

James Brooks smiled and said, “Miss, give it a try! Many people who never ate meat before have broken their fast after tasting our Jian family dishes! It’s not about the ingredients—look at me, I eat fatty meat every day! ... Don’t be put off by the fat in wild boar; it actually helps lower blood pressure and cholesterol! Once you leave Wulong County, you might not get another chance to taste wild boar!”

Everyone laughed at James Brooks’s words, but what he said seemed to strike a chord with the young lady. She covered her mouth and smiled, and the others encouraged her, even Mr. Foster chimed in: “Jiajia, try it, it’s really good. Much better than the frozen wild boar in big restaurants.”

Whether it was James Brooks’s words, the group’s encouragement, or the tempting aroma, Olivia Thompson finally mustered up her courage, picked up a piece with more lean meat, and, as if doing something very difficult, closed her eyes and put it in her mouth—almost like pinching her nose to drink bitter medicine. This made everyone laugh, all watching the beauty’s reaction to eating fatty meat.

She chewed, gently... Olivia Thompson opened her eyes, her face showing surprise and delight, her lips moving as she nodded: “Mmm... delicious... delicious, really delicious!”

She’d broken her fast—really broken it. Unconsciously, the two beauties, perhaps drawn by the way everyone else was devouring the steamed buns, decided to share one. After just one bite, the wheat aroma, the grassy fragrance, the chewy sweetness—all made them forget about the untouched rice in their bowls.

Iron pot stewed small fish, cornmeal pancakes, and a rich broth stewed with a hundred vegetables were brought out one after another, and the diners ate with great enjoyment, praising each dish. They even became more polite to James Brooks, insisting he join them for three big toasts before finally letting the now rosy-cheeked James Brooks go...