None of the major cuisines would ask him to help with noodle work, and the breakfast department at Jiuzhou Dingshi wasn’t doing well either. These days, he was practically half-idle.

According to industry regulations, interns must have a nominal ‘mentor’, and that person has to be a certified chef—doesn’t matter if they actually teach or not, the title is mandatory! Expecting those eight big shots to look after the interns? Don’t be ridiculous, each of them is a VIP! Only he is the ‘junior’.

So every time he saw these interns, William Green couldn’t help but get angry! Why are you all making such a fuss? Do you really think it’s that easy to get gilded at Jiuzhou Dingshi? I’ll make your lives hell!

Shaking the list in his hand, William Green got even angrier—there were actually two interns on it who were connected to XXX and XXX from the Chudu Culinary Association! Damn it, these connections still have to be taken care of...

“Everyone’s here, time to call roll! Henry Wallace... Emma Scott...”

After memorizing the faces of the two connected interns, William Green marked little stars next to their names, then continued the roll call: “...David Carter, hmm, from Qingxiang Technical School?”

“What, you got something against Qingxiang?”

From the moment William Green entered, David Carter had been sizing him up, and naturally noticed the little moves he made when calling Henry Wallace and Emma Scott. He already felt a bit of dislike for this guy in the chef’s hat, and his mood started to sour, on the verge of depression.

Hearing William Green’s drawn-out, questioning tone, David Carter’s temper flared. He shot a sideways glance at William Green.

Cool, this guy is hands down the boldest intern this season—daring to talk back to the mentor on the very first day?

The other interns were deeply impressed.

Emma Scott and another female intern stared, eyes wide. So handsome! Who sent my future husband here to learn cooking—did they get my permission?

Wow, this guy’s got a real temper, huh?

William Green took a closer look at David Carter. With his experience of having seen thousands of people, he could tell right away that something was off in David Carter’s eyes. Ordinary folks would call it “spaced out”; a doctor would say it’s a “pre-onset state”.

Coincidentally, William Green’s daughter was a psychologist, so he’d picked up a thing or two.

“David Carter, right? Who’s your teacher?”

You should never confront someone who might be a patient. William Green held back his temper and smoothly changed the subject.

“Brian Harris.”

“I thought so, it’s that guy. Only he could teach a student like you, huh? For old Harris’s sake, I won’t stoop to your level.”

“Everyone’s here, follow me to tour the back kitchen. Pay attention—this is where you’ll be assigned for your internship!”

William Green couldn’t be bothered to look at this bunch of rookie cooks again. He turned and said, “My surname is Liu. From now on, call me Mr. Green. If you have any issues during your internship, you can come to me. But think carefully before you do—I hate people who bother their mentors over every little thing!”

The interns nodded blankly, thinking, so if something comes up, should we go to you or not? That’s a tough one...

Ever since he’d gained master-level vegetable-washing skills and helped his family wash meat twice, David Carter’s temperament had stabilized a lot. He didn’t lose his temper again, just kept a straight face and followed behind William Green toward the ninth-floor kitchen.

Emma Scott and another female intern quietly trailed after him, blushing as they gazed at the handsome guy’s broad shoulders and slim waist. Their steps felt light as air.

“As a five-star professional restaurant hotel, Jiuzhou Dingshi naturally covers all eight major cuisines, and the back kitchen is divided accordingly.

So, how different is the Sichuan kitchen from the Shandong kitchen? Other than the chefs at the stoves specializing in different dishes, is there really much difference in the work at each station?

I’d say not much. Whether it’s the prep station, the cold dish station, or the cutting board, it’s all basic skills. But there are differences—if you’re used to prepping for Sichuan cuisine and suddenly switch to Shandong, you’ll need time to adjust, since the dishes are different, right?

So, you interns need to decide your development direction first—do you want to work the prep station for Sichuan, Shandong, Cantonese, or Anhui cuisine? I’m a nice guy, I’ll try to arrange things for you...”

In fact, aside from the different dishes to prepare, the kitchens for the eight major cuisines are pretty much the same in terms of layout. William Green couldn’t be bothered to drag the interns all over the place, so he just walked them around the Shandong kitchen on the ninth floor, letting them get a sense of the different work areas—that counted as the tour.

Then he stood in the Shandong kitchen’s prep area and asked the interns about their preferred direction. But except for those two with connections, everyone else was destined for the prep station anyway, and it didn’t matter which floor—it was all washing vegetables, scaling fish, plucking chickens, and other dirty, tiring jobs.

The Shandong kitchen alone took up an entire floor. Aside from the head chef’s and a few top stove chefs’ offices, most of the space was for the kitchen staff.

The prep station might have the lowest status in the kitchen, but it’s the real front line of battle, and also the largest area—nearly 300 square meters. Jiuzhou Dingshi isn’t your average restaurant; the Shandong cuisine dining hall alone has about 2,000 seats, so of course the kitchen is huge as well.