Chapter 1844: Fire Control, I Will Not Lose

This match was inherently unfair; Zhao Qinglin himself was well aware of that.

Just now, if Ye Zhangqing had lost, Ma Qiankun would likely have announced the result directly, and then Ye Zhangqing would naturally have been at his mercy.

Despite having such a huge advantage, he ended up losing in the end.

Having missed this opportunity, Zhao Qinglin felt a burning anger inside, deeply unwilling.

But the fact remains so; saying more changes nothing, so Zhao Qinglin could only grit his teeth in silence, vowing to win the next round's knife skill contest.

The knife skill contest in Cooking King Immortal City is simple: cut the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding.

Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding isn't a rare ingredient, but its texture is extremely soft and very elastic.

Without sufficient knife skill, not to mention cutting it into strands, even cutting it into chunks would be difficult.

One cut down, and it turns into a mushy mess directly.

This round's requirement is to cut a whole piece of Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding into a flower shape, place it in water, and still hold together without dispersing to be considered qualified.

As for the rules, Ye Zhangqing had no objection, and Zhao Qinglin also clenched his teeth and remained silent.

After the two Inner Disciples brought two equally sized pieces of Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding and two basins of clear water, placing them respectively on Ye Zhangqing's and Zhao Qinglin's stoves, Ma Qiankun spoke in a low voice.

"Let's begin."

For fairness, the knives used by Ye Zhangqing and Zhao Qinglin were both the basic standard knives made by Cooking King Immortal City.

The two sets of knives are identical, with no difference.

Ye Zhangqing casually flipped the knife in his hand, his face calm; on the contrary, Zhao Qinglin, still reeling from his earlier defeat, gripped his knife tightly, and even before starting, sweat already beaded on his forehead.

He hadn't even moved the knife yet, but was already this nervous; Ye Zhangqing glanced at him and then paid no further attention.

Following the contest's requirements, Ye Zhangqing began cutting the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding.

It is indeed soft and floppy, demanding precise control of force, but this difficulty poses no problem for Ye Zhangqing.

Having been a cook in two lifetimes, knife skill is naturally the most basic; moreover, with the system's boost to Ye Zhangqing's Chúyì, this most basic knife skill has naturally reached perfection, the pinnacle of mastery.

Therefore, this Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding test poses no pressure for Ye Zhangqing.

With one knife drop, the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding didn't move at all, as if the strike had missed it entirely, not landing on the tofu pudding.

Only the assembled formal disciples and Ma Qiankun, seeing this knife stroke, each had a flicker of unusual color in their eyes.

With everyone's eyesight, it was naturally clear that this strike had precisely hit the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding.

As for why the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding showed no movement, it was entirely due to Ye Zhangqing's precise control of force and the superbness of his knife technique.

"What a beautiful knife technique."

A formal disciple couldn't help but exclaim, not to mention Zhao Qinglin—just that one stroke earlier left even them with a feeling of awe-inspiring astonishment.

At least half of the formal disciples believed they themselves could not achieve this step; Ye Zhangqing's knife technique surpasses theirs.

As for Ma Qiankun, although he said nothing, his gaze toward Ye Zhangqing already held a burning light.

For now, however, he remained expressionless, just watching further.

Ye Zhangqing paid no heed to the surroundings, busily handling his own Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding.

A piece of Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding, under Ye Zhangqing's hands, was gradually carved into shape.

Watching Ye Zhangqing's movements, the whole process gave a pleasing, delightful feeling.

While Ye Zhangqing's side went smoothly, Zhao Qinglin's side was terrible.

Whether due to nervousness, lingering unwillingness, or burning anger, Zhao Qinglin's movements became somewhat distorted.

When exerting force, he was also hesitant, lacking any decisiveness in his knife strokes.

Even if Zhao Qinglin were otherwise inadequate, his basic skills were still passable; he didn't know how many times he had practiced this Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding.

Under normal circumstances, even if his speed were a bit slower, there should have been no problem.

But now, Zhao Qinglin stared at the piece of Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding before him, yet could not bring himself to act, his forehead covered in dense tiny beads of sweat.

His tense hand trembled involuntarily; seeing this, some formal disciples shook their heads.

In this state, Zhao Qinglin was certain to lose, with no chance of victory.

Indeed, that was exactly the case.

When Zhao Qinglin, torn with anguish, finally drew a deep breath, forced himself to calm, and with great difficulty managed to cut a stroke with his trembling hand.

Meanwhile, Ye Zhangqing at the neighboring stove had already placed his piece of Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding into the water basin.

As soon as the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding entered the water, it seemed to bloom like a flower, forming a vivid white flower shape in the water.

Pure as jade, it floated in the water, giving anyone who looked an extreme sense of beauty.

"What a beautiful tofu pudding."

"This knife skill is amazing."

"The outcome is decided."

As Ye Zhangqing finished his side, many around exclaimed and sighed, and these sounds plunged Zhao Qinglin into utter despair.

His eyes bloodshot, he stared fixedly at the Heavenly Origin Tofu Pudding flower in Ye Zhangqing's basin.

His eyes showed an indecipherable expression, but his teeth were clenched so tightly they creaked.

This round, even without anyone checking, the result was obvious at a glance.

Ye Zhangqing's tofu pudding was lifelike, practically perfect; all the formal disciples could only inwardly admit defeat.

As for Zhao Qinglin, he hadn't even completed it, naturally losing utterly.

It was even worse than the first round.

Ma Qiankun wasted no words, directly announcing Ye Zhangqing's victory, then immediately said:

"Next round, Fire Control."

Still showing no intention to stop, Ye Zhangqing had no objection; no matter what they competed in, Zhao Qinglin was surely bound to lose.

Knife skill is thus, and Fire Control remains the same.

Just this once, upon hearing Ma Qiankun's words, Zhao Qinglin's eyes flashed with a fierce hue, and he gritted his teeth resolutely.

"In fire control, I will definitely not lose."

Upon hearing this, Ye Zhangqing glanced at him, seeing that besides Zhao Qinglin's ferocious expression, he also seemed to have a hint of confidence.

This guy seems quite confident in his fire control technique.

Indeed, among Ma Qiankun's formal disciples, Zhao Qinglin can only be considered middling at best.

But if it's solely about fire control, Zhao Qinglin ranks among the top of the formal disciples.

This guy, regarding fire control, seems to have innate talent; his cultivation yields twice the result with half the effort, progressing extremely fast.

This is also Zhao Qinglin's only noteworthy advantage among the formal disciples.

After all, aside from fire control, he truly has no redeeming qualities in any other aspect, utterly mediocre.

His gaze locked onto Ye Zhangqing; in this fire-control contest, Zhao Qinglin will surely win, never to lose again.