Chapter 88: Haste Makes Waste

After that, Bai Renzong slept straight through until after one in the afternoon. By then, hunger had set in. He took his time getting ready before making his way to Yijia Pavilion: his goal for September was to help Han Jiayi earn her second Michelin star, so he planned to visit more frequently during this period.

Although he didn’t have much cash on hand at the moment, September was just around the corner, and soon he would be able to withdraw the earnings from his August videos. That would provide a decent sum for visiting restaurants out of town or exploring higher-end establishments.

The server greeted him as before and led Bai Renzong to the staff lounge at Yijia Pavilion.

As soon as Han Jiayi saw him, she tensed up, her expression turning anxious.

“Did you make the changes I suggested to those set menus?” Bai Renzong asked, his tone serious.

“Mhm…” Han Jiayi stood to attention like a nervous schoolgirl, nodding.

Bai Renzong nodded with satisfaction and picked up the menu to browse for a moment. “This one—the garlic pasta set.”

“Are you planning to eat your way through every set menu in my restaurant?” Han Jiayi asked, rubbing her hands together.

“That’s right,” Bai Renzong replied, putting the menu down. “Michelin inspectors order at random, so it’s best to be thorough.”

“Alright then…” Han Jiayi collected the menu and hurried off to the kitchen.

Bai Renzong settled into a seat in the staff lounge, watching Han Jiayi work in the kitchen. She always seemed nervous around him, but once she began cooking, her movements became fluid and confident.

Before long, Han Jiayi returned, carrying a tray and arranging the dishes before him one by one: a bowl of Caesar salad, a pair of grilled wings, four slices of avocado crispbread, a bowl of creamy crab bisque, and the star of the meal—garlic pasta.

Bai Renzong didn’t even need to taste it to know this set was excellent. The Caesar salad, unlike an ordinary salad, included bits of toasted bread. And with pasta as the main carbohydrate, the meal was sure to be filling.

Moreover, the vegetables and crispbread offered crunch, the crab bisque provided a creamy texture, the grilled wings were satisfyingly chewy, and the garlic pasta was smooth—altogether, a rich array of flavors and textures, all seasoned to perfection.

It was an outstanding set, though not entirely without fault.

“To be honest,” Bai Renzong said, turning his attention to the Caesar salad, “the salad and the avocado crispbread are a bit redundant.”

Han Jiayi pressed her lips together, anxiously awaiting his feedback.

“The avocado crispbread is an excellent appetizer in its own right,” Bai Renzong continued, resting his chin on his hand. “The richness of the avocado contrasts sharply with the crispness of the corn bread, but within this set, its texture clashes with the Caesar salad. The salad’s purpose is to cleanse the palate, so it’s better to swap out the avocado crispbread for another meat-based snack. That would also balance the ratio of meat to vegetables in the set.”

“Got it…” Han Jiayi muttered, clearly a bit disgruntled.

Bai Renzong nodded and resumed eating. There weren’t many customers in the restaurant at this hour, so Han Jiayi took the opportunity to rally her chefs and servers.

“Next month, Michelin’s food inspectors will be visiting. I don’t need to tell you how important this is, do I?” Han Jiayi’s expression was a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I want everyone to stay focused next month. Take care with every detail—don’t overlook a single thing.”

The cooks and servers all nodded in agreement.

“Michelin inspectors usually come in pairs—a man and a woman. They arrive together but sit separately, pretending not to know each other,” Han Jiayi explained. “They’ll each order a different set menu and closely observe the servers’ attitudes. Sometimes, when you’re not looking, they’ll put tableware under the bench to see if you notice. So it’s not just the chefs—everyone needs to stay sharp, understand?”

I didn’t know that, Bai Renzong thought to himself. When it comes to industry secrets, chefs like Han Jiayi clearly have the upper hand.

“Well, I’ll be heading off now. Do your best, alright?” After scanning the code to pay, Bai Renzong said goodbye.

“Take care!” Han Jiayi seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he added, causing her to tense up again.

During these final days of August, Bai Renzong kept up the routine of eating a set meal at Yijia Pavilion every day, helping Han Jiayi refine her menus.

As for his videos, he decided to take a short break and told his fans he’d post the next one in September.

With the Michelin inspectors possibly arriving as early as September first, Bai Renzong wanted to help Han Jiayi perfect as many set menus as possible before then.

But perhaps, he thought, he was being too impatient.

“This soup is too rich for this set—switch it for a clear broth,” Bai Renzong said, pushing the soup bowl aside and frowning. “And as for this scallop salad, honestly, it overshadows the tuna floss in your side dish. Replace the salad with something else. As for the main course…”

He was about to continue, but noticed Han Jiayi frowning, her wide, beautiful eyes glaring at him.

Just as Bai Renzong thought she was about to lose her temper, she suddenly pouted, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. The sight was at once adorable and pitiful, making Bai Renzong’s heart ache.

“Oh, come on! What’s this about?” He hurried over, unsure whether to hand her a napkin or wipe her tears himself, lowering his voice: “Why are you crying? What if the staff see you like this?”

“You’ve been scolding me nonstop these past few days…” Han Jiayi said, aggrieved, as Bai Renzong led her to a quiet corner.

“I haven’t been scolding you—I was just giving you feedback! I want to help you improve your menus,” Bai Renzong said, awkwardly dabbing her tears with a napkin. Han Jiayi’s beautiful eyes only shone brighter, sparkling with tears.

“Well, can’t you at least praise me a little while you’re at it?” Han Jiayi tilted her head up at him, eyes brimming with complaint and a touch of playful stubbornness. “Is my cooking really that bad? Isn’t there anything good about it at all?”

“Of course there is!” Bai Renzong replied hastily. “Take the garlic pasta set, for example—the textures and flavors were wonderfully layered, and the pairing of the appetizers with the garlic pasta was spot-on. It was an outstanding set.”

“Then why didn’t you say so at the time?” Han Jiayi stopped crying, wiping her eyes and giving him an aggrieved look.

“I was just eager to help you improve the menu—I didn’t think of it, that’s all,” Bai Renzong explained. “My fault, I was too hasty. From now on, I’ll give more balanced feedback, pointing out strengths as well as weaknesses.”

“Okay…” Han Jiayi nodded, wiping her eyes, then taking the napkin from his hand. She blew her nose loudly, pouting and muttering, “Don’t you dare tell anyone you made me cry…”

“Alright,” Bai Renzong agreed, watching her return to the kitchen. He realized he’d been too impatient—no matter how energetic and determined Han Jiayi seemed, she was still just an ordinary person. She could feel overwhelmed, need to blow off steam with a horror movie, want to hear praise, and be crushed by negative emotions piling up.

“Haste makes waste…” Bai Renzong muttered to himself. “Time to adjust my approach.”