Chapter Thirty-Nine: Seriously, Is This Really Okay?

"Uh, I was just joking—you’re not really taking this seriously, are you?” Lin Hang said in surprise. “Are you actually going to show us what you can do?”

“Of course,” replied Chen Feng with a faint smile, his eyes quickly turning to Lin Erli. “Uncle Lin, may I ask how well you know the Tian Ding Restaurant? I’d like to borrow their kitchen for a bit.”

Lin Erli’s interest was immediately piqued. He responded swiftly, “No problem at all! I’m a regular here, and I have a good relationship with Xiao Yu. Borrowing the kitchen is nothing. In fact, I’m free this afternoon—let’s see what you can do!”

The kitchen of Tian Ding Restaurant was spacious, staffed by professional chefs, each with their own station. Soon, they had everything ready for Chen Feng. After a brief consideration, he went to one side and fetched a slab of fresh prime beef.

At Tian Ding, the ingredients were always top-notch. Chen Feng brought the beef to his nose and inhaled deeply, confirming its freshness. There was no added water; just from the material alone, he could tell the cow had been slaughtered properly and had not died from disease, nor had it been fed any strange additives during its life.

One had to admit, Tian Ding was expensive, but their attention to detail was impeccable. And with Chen Feng’s newly acquired skills from the legendary chef Stephen Chow, he possessed a few extraordinary abilities—like being able to judge the freshness of meat and whether any hormones had been used, just from a sniff.

With a swift motion, Chen Feng picked up a kitchen knife and quickly cut the beef into a piece a foot long, eight inches wide, and an inch thick. Then he grabbed two rolling pins and began pounding the beef with force.

Urine Beef Balls!

Chen Feng was curious to see if his version could actually bounce like a ping pong ball. The first step in making these legendary beef balls was relentless pounding—tens of thousands of strikes—until the beef was reduced to a fine, sticky paste.

Rolling pins were a last resort—the best choice would have been jujube wood sticks, which lend a more natural flavor. But with none at hand, rolling pins had to suffice.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sight of Chen Feng hammering at the beef with rolling pins left the chefs dumbfounded. They stared blankly—after all their years in the kitchen, never had they seen anyone cook like this.

“Where’s this guy from?” one chef muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like this. Are you sure he’s not here to make trouble?”

“Is he copying a scene from ‘God of Cookery’? Man, what an idiot!”

It wasn’t just the chefs; even Lin Erli and his wife, Lin Hang, and Fang Yue watching outside were completely stunned. None had imagined Chen Feng would do something so outrageous. For a moment, Lin Erli regretted his impulsive decision—if word got out, he’d be a laughingstock.

Chen Feng, however, paid them no mind. Ordinary beef balls are made by mincing beef and hand-rolling it into shape, but the legendary Urine Beef Balls from “God of Cookery” were different—purely pounded, the fibers completely broken down and the juices locked inside.

This required tremendous strength. In the movie, Turkey used twin cleavers with incredible wrist power. Thanks to his strengthened body, Chen Feng was even stronger, with more endurance and explosive power.

Suddenly, everyone’s faces changed—they could see, clear as day, that Chen Feng was turning the beef into a paste with his rolling pins at a speed visible to the naked eye.

An incredible display of power!

After the beef was ready, Chen Feng began preparing the marinade. Every great chef has their own secret marinade, and it’s no exaggeration to say that over seventy percent of a dish’s flavor comes from these exclusive blends.

With his mastery, Chen Feng already commanded several secret recipes. But the ingredients he’d extracted from the Heavenly Kitchen Compendium were even more exclusive—the ratios, the heat, every detail mattered.

A tiny misstep could affect the flavor. While most people couldn’t tell the difference, for true gourmets, that subtlety was the gap between heaven and earth.

But Chen Feng was now a culinary grandmaster; his control over the quantities was flawless. Unconsciously, all the chefs in the kitchen were staring at him in a daze. From the large pot, a faint, enticing aroma began to drift out. At first, it wasn’t strong, but among all the kitchen smells, it still managed to sneak into everyone’s lungs.

Soon, the fragrance grew bolder, dominating the aroma of the entire kitchen. When Chen Feng poured the scalding marinade over the beef paste, an indescribable fragrance filled the air, making everyone present swallow involuntarily.

The rich aroma seemed to pierce right into one’s soul, making people want to hold their breath just to savor it—it was almost painful to exhale.

The scent even reached the diners outside.

“What is that smell? It’s amazing!”

“Is that a new chef at Tian Ding? My god, what’s he cooking? I have to try it!”

Yet Chen Feng remained unfazed, completely immersed in his work, ignoring the sounds of swallowing all around. He moved to another station and selected some mantis shrimp.

Mantis shrimp, also known as “pipi shrimp” in the north, are a popular seafood delicacy along the coast. It’s said they earned the name because they shoot streams of water when disturbed.

Quickly, Chen Feng took a pair of scissors and deftly shelled the shrimp. It was the perfect season, and Tian Ding kept the freshest stock—these shrimp had been purged for days and were free of impurities.

Switching to a knife, he chopped the mantis shrimp into two-millimeter cubes and started stir-frying them in a wok with a blend of secret seasonings he’d prepared in advance. Each ingredient was added at just the right moment, at just the right temperature.

In moments, the shrimp had become a smooth, fragrant paste. The aroma wasn’t as overwhelming as the beef balls, but it lingered, inviting and memorable.

Chen Feng placed the shrimp paste in the fridge, timing it precisely. After fifteen minutes, he took it out—now set like jelly.

Without realizing it, a crowd had gathered outside the kitchen. Chen Feng tested the temperature of the beef paste—it was just right. He began skillfully forming the Urine Beef Balls.

With practiced motions, he shaped the beef into balls, stuffing the shrimp paste in the center, leaving a hollow space. This was the secret to the legendary bounce.

The beef paste was packed tight; beef’s natural elasticity, combined with the air pocket, created the signature resilience of the Urine Beef Ball.

Not only that, but the meatballs Chen Feng made were perfectly smooth on the surface, lacking the irregularities of ordinary meatballs.

It took two full hours before Chen Feng completed the entire batch. Every chef had stopped what they were doing, staring in amazement. Fortunately, it wasn’t a busy time; otherwise, chaos would have ensued.

Even so, a crowd of eager customers had gathered outside, all eyes on Chen Feng.

Phew!

Chen Feng exhaled deeply, suddenly realizing he’d made enough meatballs to feed dozens of people. He picked one up and bounced it on the table.

He dropped the whole batch into the pot, and in less than ten minutes, the piping hot Urine Beef Balls were ready.

Surprisingly, the finished meatballs no longer had that overpowering aroma—they looked ordinary, almost indistinguishable from regular beef balls. But everyone present knew better; no one could underestimate such masterful technique. These were no ordinary Urine Beef Balls.

With a flick of his right hand, Chen Feng picked up a meatball and tossed it onto the table.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

The beef ball bounced up and down like a ping pong ball. The sight left both chefs and customers in shock.

It actually bounced!

Movies were one thing, but to see it happen in real life was astonishing.

Chen Feng didn’t linger on the reaction. He quickly set aside five servings and, turning around, was surprised to find a large crowd watching him.

“When did so many people gather?” he wondered. He’d been so focused, he hadn’t noticed the growing audience.

“I’ll have a serving!” one customer suddenly shouted.

“I want one too—no, five! Hurry up, I must try this!” called another.

The crowd clamored for a taste. For a moment, Chen Feng was flustered, but he quickly regained his composure. “Don’t worry, everyone, there’s plenty to go around! These five servings are reserved.”

“There’s more than enough!” he said, gesturing to the counter. “No need to rush!”

With that, Chen Feng finally escaped the crowd, returning to the dining hall where Lin Erli couldn’t wait to pop a Urine Beef Ball into his mouth.

Splat!

A jet of clear shrimp juice sprayed all over Lin Hang’s face.

(There’s no way I could write more before the official release! After it launches, you can count on ten chapters a day—I’ve done it before. For now, let me rest a bit!)