Chapter 1: Rebirth in 1984

"I heard that the girl that kid Zhou Yan saved this morning is the niece of Deputy Factory Director Lin, who came to visit relatives. A city girl, and she’s as pretty as a picture."

"Bull! Zhou Erwa, that landlubber, saved someone? A toad trying to jump off a cliff—does he think he’s the Divine Eagle Hero?"

"Zhou Yan was doing just fine as an apprentice at the textile factory canteen, so why did he go out and open a restaurant on his own? With his half-baked cooking skills, his dishes are either undercooked or have no sense of seasoning. He can’t even get egg-fried rice right. He doesn't see three customers a day; I bet he’ll be out of business in three months."

"Young people are arrogant but incompetent. Don't know whose soul-stealing soup he drank, but he’s buried himself in debt to open this restaurant, dragging his whole family into the pit. If he really goes bust, he’ll have to go sell his body to survive."

"Is that news reliable? Zhou Yan is a well-known handsome young man for ten miles around!"

"Sister-in-law Lin, you really are..."

The head of the stone bridge was effectively the town’s intelligence center. Several middle-aged women chatted while washing clothes, their talk ranging from the mundane to the scandalous.

Near the bridge, by the roadside, stood a small stir-fry restaurant. A sign reading 'Zhou Erwa Restaurant' hung on the door, but the entrance was tightly shut, with only a wisp of smoke drifting from the chimney.

In the restaurant's kitchen, Zhou Yan was burning paper in the stove. The words 'Last Will' stood out starkly in the firelight, illuminating his handsome, chiseled face.

The laughter of the sharp-tongued women drifted in from the half-open window, their bawdy jokes making one’s ears burn.

But the women were right about one thing: Zhou Yan certainly couldn't be the Divine Eagle Hero. But he hadn't jumped off a cliff; he had jumped into the Qingyi River.

That landlubber had leaped into the Bailatuo section, and after barely kicking his legs twice, his soul had returned to the great river.

Zhou Yan, a fine youth of the Gen Z generation, opened his eyes to see a pair of lotus-white arms floating before him, and he himself had choked on so much water he could barely breathe.

Having grown up by the sea, Zhou Yan was known as a "white streak in the waves." Regaining his senses, he immediately grabbed those arms, pulled the person to the surface, supported her head from behind, and drifted with the current to the bank, dragging her ashore.

Soon, a crowd gathered, hurriedly carrying the girl away.

One second, Zhou Yan was worrying about how the China-US tariff war would affect his three-digit savings; the next, he had hit the jackpot and been transported to 1984.

His mind was a mess. He hadn't even seen clearly how pretty the girl was; he only remembered she was very fair and delicate, and her screams were soft.

Of course, none of that mattered.

Following his memories back to the restaurant, Zhou Yan spent half a day digesting the memories of the other 'Zhou Yan' in his mind, accepting the fact that he had transmigrated into a young man with the same name in a parallel world.

The original owner was twenty years old and had spent two and a half years learning to cook at the Jiazhou Textile Factory canteen across the street, only to be fired two months ago after a conflict with Director Wang of the canteen.

The kid had scraped together 868.52 yuan with his father, added his father's 500 yuan in savings, leased this shop at the factory gate, and opened a restaurant, boasting that he would drive the factory canteen out of business.

However, he had severely overestimated his cooking skills, and his management was a total disaster. The factory canteen hadn't collapsed, but his restaurant was clearly on the verge of doing so.

The borrowed money was gone, his big talk had become a joke, and yesterday, Director Wang had mocked him to his face. With rent due in two days, the fragile young Zhou had spent the night drinking, written a suicide note, and jumped into the Qingyi River at dawn.

Zhou Yan looked at the stack of IOUs in his hand, resisting the urge to throw them into the stove. What the hell was this?

Having grown up in an orphanage, Zhou Yan was extremely money-conscious; only money gave him a sense of security.

And he had always lacked security.

He had worked countless part-time jobs since childhood. After entering university, he dove into self-media, becoming a moderately famous food blogger with millions of followers thanks to his style of 30% humor, 70% sharp-tongued commentary, and 90% good looks. He had saved up a sum of money and was planning to open his first restaurant.

After finally turning his life around, he had been sent to 1984 and become a pauper again!

Zhou Yan: (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

The good news: he had a restaurant.

The bad news: he hadn't just inherited a failing business, he was also buried in debt.

The amount he owed wouldn't even cover the budget for a single meal before he transmigrated.

But this was 1984. On the handwritten menu hanging on the wall: Garlic Pork Slices 3.5 jiao, Salted Steamed Pork 4.5 jiao, Twice-Cooked Pork 6 jiao, Dongpo Elbow 1.2 yuan...

A regular employee at the Jiazhou Textile Factory next door only earned 38.5 yuan a month.

Along with the IOUs, there were 3 yuan and 8.7 jiao, two meat coupons, and three grain coupons.

Food bloggers fall into two categories

One is the "born chef," skilled at sharing cooking guides and winning the love and adoration of fans.

The other is the "born eater," skilled at eating and nitpicking, able to share food with precise commentary and exaggerated expressions, seducing fans into opening those evil food delivery apps in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, Zhou Yan belonged to the latter.

He didn't have the ability to roll up his sleeves and whip up a masterpiece that would bring this restaurant in a small town in southern Sichuan back to life.

However, the situation wasn't entirely hopeless. He shifted his gaze from the stove, and with a thought, a panel appeared in his vision

【Player: Zhou Yan】 【Profession: Chef】 【Wealth Value: -858.52】 【Professional Skills】 Knife Skills (Intermediate): 8604/10000 (Your knife skills are sufficient for most dish requirements) Heat Control (Beginner): 668/1000 (Still a rookie, needs practice) Seasoning (Beginner): 695/1000 (Go easy on the salt, Salt King) Eloquence (Advanced): 88888/100000 (A pig pushing the curtain—it’s all in the mouth) 【Mastered Dishes】 Salted Steamed Pork (Beginner): 26/1000 (Little brother is out for a stroll, walking, little brother) Twice-Cooked Pork (Beginner): 55/1000 (The newly paved road is smooth, no gravel) Dongpo Elbow (Beginner): 12/1000 (Diligence makes up for clumsiness) Smashed Cucumber (Intermediate): 1871/10000 (Master Huang, so capable) ... 【Main Quest: Become the God of Cooking! Famous throughout the world!】 【Newbie Quest: Please bind a restaurant. Quest Reward: Newbie Gift Pack.】 【Wealth Mall: Unlocks when Wealth Value reaches 1000.】

This was the player panel from the cooking game advertisement Zhou Yan had just taken on. Being professional, he had even played it for two days, never expecting it to follow him through time.

The data column represented his current real-world level, fully explaining why the Zhou Erwa Restaurant was facing bankruptcy.

Exquisite knife skills, but abysmal heat control and seasoning abilities—it meant young Zhou was just a prep cook, not a chef.

On the wall-sized menu, only the Smashed Cucumber was passable.

His cooking skills were truly appalling.

But the system's evaluation style was incredibly snarky. Was it personalized?

Like everyone else, Zhou Yan loved reading web novels, so he was no stranger to transmigration and systems, and he accepted it quickly.

When reading, he’d curse: "Another system!" When it happened to him: "This is great!"

1984 was far too distant for Zhou Yan; there were no filters, no memories.

However, he had filmed many time-honored restaurants and interviewed many self-made catering bosses. Making the stories behind the food a highlight of his videos was one of his specialties.

Opening a restaurant in the eighties meant being among the first to "eat crab" after the individual economy was liberalized—it was much better than scratching a living from the fields.

Zhou Yan had worked as a waiter, spent four years as a food blogger, and spent half a year preparing to open his own shop. Aside from his lack of cooking skills, he basically had the ability to run a restaurant.

And this system could just fill that gap.

Zhou Yan stood up and chose to bind.

【Ding! Zhou Erwa Restaurant successfully bound. Newbie Gift Pack issued, please claim!】

Zhou Yan opened the gift pack with his mind 【Dry-Mixed Shredded Beef Noodles】, 【Braised Beef Noodles】, 【Pork Rib Noodles】, 【Pickles】

Four recipes popped up at once.

Zhou Yan's eyes lit up. Three types of noodles and a side of pickles—was it trying to turn him into a noodle shop?

The richness of this newbie gift pack exceeded his expectations.

He tapped the four recipes with his mind, and they all opened simultaneously. His brain buzzed, feeling as if it had been stuffed with information, and he felt briefly dizzy.

Soon, a look of joy appeared on Zhou Yan's face.

It wasn't just four dry recipes or intracranial video lessons; the knowledge had gone directly into his brain!

From making the dough to pulling the noodles, from processing the beef to braising it, from boiling the bone broth to seasoning the noodles—it was a complete set of experience, as vivid and natural as the memories he had inherited from young Zhou.

Zhou Yan was a qualified food blogger, and having inherited the foundation of cooking from young Zhou, he could judge from the recipes in his mind that these three noodle dishes would be excellent.

He had learned the methods for three types of noodles, but it didn't stop there.

Looking at it from another angle, shredded beef with double peppers was a god-tier dish for rice, beef with bamboo shoots was a classic Sichuan dish, and who could refuse soft, bone-falling braised pork ribs?

Zhou Yan had spent four years in Chengdu for university and started his career as a food blogger focusing on Sichuan cuisine; he understood it perfectly.

Every good noodle shop had a master Sichuan chef in the back.

When it came to a love for noodles, Sichuanese were no less passionate than Northerners.

Here, everything could be a topping. He had eaten ginger duck noodles, pork intestine noodles, eel noodles, chicken giblet noodles, pork liver noodles, rabbit noodles... and even the outrageous tofu pudding noodles.

One of the big problems with Zhou Erwa Restaurant was that the original owner had taken too big a step, but lacked the ability to back it up, leading to a disaster.

A prep cook who could only make smashed cucumber had created a menu of thirty or forty dishes. The cost of preparing ingredients alone was enough to drag this desolate restaurant down.

Of course, a single dish of smashed cucumber couldn't support a restaurant.

The monthly rent was 15 yuan, plus management fees and other expenses, totaling 20 yuan.

This restaurant wasn't a gold mine; in the hands of an average person, it was a hot potato.

Now that Zhou Yan had learned three noodle dishes and a refreshing, palate-cleansing pickle, he had a way to break the deadlock.

Walking out of the kitchen, he tore the handwritten menu off the wall and crumpled it into a ball.

From today on, every new dish on the Zhou Erwa Restaurant menu would have to pass his inspection. No compromises.

Starting tomorrow, he was selling noodles!

Rent was due in three days; he had to earn the rent first.