Chapter 704

Chapter 704:

“No need for research,” Ashton replied with a knowing smile. “I already know how to do it.”

Seeing Ashton’s casual demeanor, Malcom’s irritation flared, as though all his nights spent burning the midnight oil in pursuit of perfection were nothing more than a game to Ashton, something easily achieved without effort.

Perhaps it was anger, or a desire to dissuade Ashton from pursuing his plans, but after a brief hesitation, Malcom’s teeth clenched, and he said, “If it’s really that easy for you, then show me right now! If you can’t replicate it, you’ll have to buy my restaurant at double the price!”

Malcom had intended to intimidate Ashton, to warn him against making unrealistic promises.

Yet, surprisingly, Malcom’s words seemed to align perfectly with Ashton’s intention.

Ashton readily agreed, saying, “No problem! If my dish doesn’t meet your expectations, I’ll buy your restaurant at triple the price. But if you find my cooking acceptable, let’s join forces and take another shot at it. What do you say?”

Malcom, momentarily speechless, nodded, silently agreeing to the terms.

Once Malcom had given his consent, Ashton immediately turned toward the kitchen, gathering the ingredients with the precision of a master.

What followed left Malcom in a state of stunned disbelief. It wasn’t that Ashton’s movements were hurried or chaotic; on the contrary, each action was as graceful as a dancer’s step, more akin to a performance than mere cooking.

In less than three seconds, a whole potato was transformed into thin, uniform slices under Ashton’s knife.

With a single, expert cut, the meat was separated cleanly from the ribs.

🌟𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝗿𝗲 𝓪𝓽: gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⫷𝖼𝗈𝗺

Time seemed to stretch and warp—whether it was ten minutes or half an hour later, as Malcom finally snapped out of his daze, Ashton had already placed a flower-shaped meat dish in front of him.

It was an exact replica of the one Morris had prepared just moments before.

“Have you made this dish before?” Malcom asked, his voice thick with disbelief as he stared at Ashton in awe.

Ashton shook his head, his smile still calm and unshaken. “Not at all. I simply followed Morris’ method.”

Malcom fell silent, though his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

The dish required blending several types of meat, each step a delicate balance. One wrong move, and the whole thing could collapse. To replicate it so perfectly after just observing Morris was a feat that bordered on the extraordinary.

Yet, Malcom’s stubbornness refused to yield. “Looking the same isn’t enough. The true soul of a dish is its taste. If it doesn’t taste right, then no matter how beautiful it is, it’s meaningless!”

Ashton remained unfazed, his voice calm. “You haven’t even tasted it yet. How can you judge it? Try it first, and if it’s no good, then feel free to criticize.”

Malcom’s mouth watered as the dish not only looked magnificent but also exuded an irresistible aroma.

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