Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 1023 - 1003. Chili Stimulus

Chapter 1023: 1003. Chili Stimulus

From afar, Professor Song was busy handling stacked pots, while the spicy aroma of chili peppers spread wildly nearby.

It was absolutely overwhelming—the closer you got to the booth, the more it felt like tears were about to stream down your face.

Qiaoqiao handed out a bowl with a look of pity toward the judges: "Are you really going to taste this?"

Taste, of course! How could they not? There were dozens of booths; although there weren’t many vegetables overall, everyone had already sampled quite a few chili peppers this morning.

But fortunately, they only needed to nibble on the raw ones for texture—most of the evaluation was reserved for the cooked ones later. Otherwise, they weren’t made of steel! Eating this much raw chili would surely ruin their stomachs, wouldn’t it?

"Hiss!" The lead elderly lady took a bite, immediately wincing and wrinkling her brow. "Crunchy! Spicy! Thick flesh, and very juicy!"

"Overwhelmingly stimulating, but the spice level is perfect—it’s just the kind of kick the West River Area loves."

"The thick flesh is a standout feature—these would be absolutely ideal for tiger skin peppers."

The group hissed and gasped, babbling away, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. They weren’t tormenting themselves by talking, but rather trying to avoid letting their fiery tongues press against the roof of their mouths—if they stopped talking, their tongues might just combust from the chili’s intensity.

Well into their twilight years, they couldn’t exactly stick their tongues out in embarrassment in front of all these people.

Luckily, Song Tan was well-prepared. She slid over an assortment of leafy greens that Qiaoqiao had washed and prepped earlier: "One leaf each to neutralize the spice... but don’t overdo it. We’ve still got cooking to do later."

The crispy greens were a refreshing delight, making up for everything. Even though the spicy heat couldn’t be entirely subdued, everyone understood who the clear winner of this fruit and vegetable contest was.

The lead judge sighed. "For each crop, you only brought one variety, except strawberries—you brought two kinds... Well, how are we supposed to pick a champion?"

The Hou Ji evaluations ranked the top ten selections by fruit and vegetable type, and for almost every type brought by Song Tan’s home, the results were indisputable. Even the finickiest reporters present couldn’t come up with objections.

But the strawberries—she brought two kinds. Who gets gold? Who gets silver? No one present could come up with an answer.

Because, frankly, both types were just too delicious.

Qiaoqiao rubbed his belly and glanced at the time, curiously remarking, "It’s noon already. Aren’t you done for the day?"

"Done for what?" blurted a young journalist from the Agricultural Heart channel. "We haven’t even tried the cooked dishes yet!"

With such exceptional taste in the raw products, who would want to touch those pedestrian work lunches?

"What?" Qiaoqiao blinked in confusion. "You’re not already giving me the championship?"

Under normal circumstances, no one would make such a bold proclamation during an evaluation. But given that their products were miles ahead in quality, saying it now felt perfectly natural.

Except...

"A championship is a championship, but we can’t skip the proper process, right?" declared the lead elderly lady, solemn and dignified.

"Oh." Qiaoqiao believed her.

Skillfully, he placed the small pot delivered to him on the portable stove, preparing to drizzle oil. However, he turned to Song Tan with curiosity: "Wait, wasn’t Professor Song saying we shouldn’t use seasonings at this step? What about boiling—would that work?"

Before Song Tan could respond, the crowd chimed in all at once: "No, no, no. Just cook it however you normally do—don’t overthink it."

"Do you need seasonings? I know a booth selling soy sauce."

"What about vinegar? I’ve got a friend here."

"Is this pot even suitable? It’s just for boiling... Stir-frying needs a wok. Do you want a wok?"

The crowd united in their enthusiasm, trying to help in every possible way.

But Qiaoqiao saw this as a challenge: "Seventh Uncle always said—any good chef can make a great meal with whatever tools they have at hand. I can do this!"

Ignite the flame, heat the pot, pour the oil—

The very chili peppers that had brought everyone to tears earlier were now washed clean and tossed whole into the pot. Watching Qiaoqiao’s movements, one universal thought struck the crowd:

[The finest ingredients often demand the simplest culinary techniques...]

Seventh Uncle had clearly taught Qiaoqiao well. With the stove on low heat, and the pan modestly small, he relied solely on oil and salt—no other seasonings at all. Yet, one by one, Qiaoqiao managed to cook the fiery chili peppers until they achieved their tender, tiger-skin-charred perfection.

The peppers were velvety-soft, their flesh robust, and each was evenly charred. Onlookers gathered round, unwilling to leave even as the clock passed noon.

Well... so many people here—surely it wouldn’t be unreasonable for everyone to get a share of tiger skin peppers, right?

The moment one person dared to reach for a taste, the floodgates opened. A small pot clearly couldn’t keep up with the demand, forcing the addition of two, then three portable stoves!

And the extra stoves? They came from none other than the resourceful nearby booth staff—

"I’ve got one! Our booth only boiled some water with it, hardly used! Wait, let me bring it over."

"Me too! Ours is practically unused... wait, I’ll go grab it!"

"Can we manage one more without losing track of the flame? Never mind—I’ll grab it anyway!"

And so, what began as a proper evaluation event dwindled by noon, leaving the exhibition area deserted. Meanwhile, in a remote corner, a crowd formed layer upon layer around five small stoves, their focused gazes fixed on the cooking spectacle.

Qiaoqiao, on the other hand, only grew more confident—

With the small stoves and pots, he became increasingly proficient, feeling as though the smaller setup worked better than the large wok at home!

The freshly cleansed green peppers were tossed into the pan, the heat gradually softening them. Their once-vibrant color darkened, their bodies turned supple, their flesh still substantial... flipping them required precision, but with a sprinkle of salt on each side and a faint char forming, the tiger skin peppers came to life!

Though lacking in seasoning, the combination of oil and salt alone brought out an aroma so enticing that no one present could resist.

A basketful of peppers was handed out to the crowd, leaving only a dozen behind. Witnesses joyfully held bowls and plates, chomping away with exuberant "hisses and haahs," gasping and raving about the taste.

Yang Zhengxi, drooling with envy, looked at his stoic and immovable brother and exclaimed in frustration: "Are you some kind of secret agent? Not even sneaking a taste?!"

Qiaoqiao shook his head: "This pot is too small—the dish doesn’t reach its peak flavor here. Let’s make some chili paste—I’ll stuff it into buns for us, okay?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. The tiger skin peppers were laid on a cutting board, and with a swift flick of a small knife, they were minced into a dark green paste.

Song Tan, anticipating the next step, pulled out the flatbreads prepared earlier, lifting a clump of the paste with chopsticks and spreading it evenly across a sheet. Then, she rolled it up and handed it over—

"Here, Xiaoyang, try the meal you so gracefully begged for."

At the same time, she instructed Qiaoqiao: "Where are the cucumbers I set aside earlier? With no seasonings, they won’t taste good as a cold dish—let’s just treat them as fruit then."

"And cook the shredded radish you prepped earlier. Pair it with the chili paste—that’s what truly complements a bun best."

With a flatbread stuffed in his mouth, Yang Zhengxi insultingly watched the sibling duo debate the menu, clutching his roll as though it had instantly lost its value.

Meanwhile, the crowd gazed mournfully at their meager portions of tiger skin peppers, unwilling to eat but equally unwilling to let go. Their eyes landed squarely on Qiaoqiao and Song Tan—

Ahhh, they wanted more too!

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