Qiu Sheng and Awei entered the courtyard carrying numerous packages and bundles of ingredients, their arms laden with the evening's provisions. Wen Cai hurried over to help as Gustave surveyed their impressive haul—at least a dozen different ingredients for what promised to be quite the feast.
"Look at all this," Gustave said, glancing at the setting sun. "It's nearly dark already, and with so many dishes to prepare, I fear you three won't have enough time to cook everything properly. Why don't I lend a hand? It's been far too long since I've had the pleasure of cooking for old friends."
"Absolutely not!" Lin Jiu protested, jumping up from his seat and grabbing Gustave's arm. "You're our honored guest—I couldn't possibly ask you to work in the kitchen!"
"Allons, mon ami," Gustave said with a warm chuckle, "the last time I visited, it was Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai who did all the cooking. This time, I'd like to contribute personally. Please, allow me this small pleasure."
Zhang Zhiwei nodded approvingly from his seat. "Taoist Yimei, if Brother Gustave wishes to cook, let him cook. Besides," he added with a sly smile, "I haven't tasted his culinary artistry in over a year. Surely you're curious as well?"
After their combined persuasion, Lin Jiu finally relented with a resigned sigh. "Very well, but this troubles me greatly, Brother Gustave."
"No trouble at all!" Gustave said cheerfully, already rolling up his sleeves. "Fellow Daoists, simply relax and wait for us to finish preparing this feast!"
In the modest kitchen, Qiu Sheng, Wen Cai, and Awei immediately stopped their preparations and bowed respectfully as Gustave entered.
"Master Gustave!"
"Master Gustave!"
"Uncle Master!"
Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai exchanged curious glances at Awei's different form of address.
"Don't concern yourselves with titles," Gustave said diplomatically, smoothing over any potential awkwardness. "Whether you call me Master, or Uncle Master—as long as you're addressing me, I'll respond. Awei has proven himself a good man since joining your master's tutelage."
"Uncle Master!" both Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai chorused, quickly adopting the more respectful title.
"But Uncle Master," Qiu Sheng asked curiously, "shouldn't you be relaxing with Master and Master Tiantong?"
"I saw the mountain of ingredients you purchased, and with darkness approaching, I thought I'd help prepare a few dishes," Gustave explained, his eyes already surveying their haul with professional interest.
"How embarrassing for you to do our work," Wen Cai protested, though his grin betrayed his secret delight—as the laziest of Lin Jiu's disciples, he welcomed any reduction in his workload.
"Don't worry," Gustave said, beginning his inspection of the ingredients. "Consider this my gift to you all—a chance to experience my cooking techniques firsthand."
His gaze immediately settled on a freshly slaughtered rooster, its golden skin and plump form indicating it was a fine three-yellow chicken. "Qiu Sheng, what were you planning to do with this beauty?"
"Boiled chicken, of course!" Qiu Sheng answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Gustave nodded—boiled chicken was indeed the most popular poultry dish in southern China. "How about we change things up? I'll prepare a soy sauce chicken instead—something with more complex flavors."
"Yes please!" Wen Cai said eagerly, "I'm so tired of boiled chicken! We have it every New Year and for every guest!"
Next, Gustave examined a beautiful grass carp, its scales still gleaming silver-green in the lamplight. "This magnificent fish deserves special treatment. How about poisson aux légumes marinés—pickled vegetable fish?"
"Whatever you decide, Uncle Master!" Qiu Sheng said enthusiastically although confused with all the odd language Gustave was saying. "I've been dying to taste your version of pickled fish!"
Gustave continued his selection, choosing fresh water spinach for a simple stir-fry and the ingredients for what would be his pièce de résistance—Lipu taro braised pork, a dish that perfectly showcased the region's famous local produce.
"Well then," he announced, "we'll prepare four dishes. Qiu Sheng, you and Wen Cai can handle the water spinach—it's straightforward enough. Awei, you'll assist me with the more complex preparations."
"Yes, Uncle Master!" all three disciples chorused.
Gustave began with the Lipu taro braised pork, a dish that required careful timing and technique. He selected a beautiful piece of pork belly, its layers of fat and meat perfectly marbled.
"First, we cleanse the pork," he explained to his eager audience, running his hands over the meat's surface. "Ideally, we'd singe off any remaining hair with fire, but thorough scrubbing will suffice."
He filled a large pot with water, adding the pork belly along with fresh ginger slices and scallion knots. "These aromatics will eliminate any gamey flavors," he noted as the water came to a gentle boil.
While the pork cooked, Gustave turned his attention to the magnificent Lipu taro, its purple-streaked flesh promising the sweet, nutty flavor the region was famous for. As he peeled and cut the taro into thick rounds, he allowed a subtle electrical current to flow through his fingertips—not enough to spark, but sufficient to begin breaking down the cellular structure at a molecular level.
"Uncle Master," Awei observed with fascination, "your knife work is incredibly smooth. The taro slices are all perfectly uniform."
Gustave smiled but didn't reveal his electromagnetic secret. Instead, he heated oil in a wok and carefully fried the taro pieces, the electrical pre-treatment ensuring they cooked evenly and developed a gorgeous golden crust without becoming mushy inside.
"Look—watch the color," he instructed as the taro sizzled. "We want golden brown on both sides, but not overcooked. The taro should maintain its shape and texture."
When both the taro and pork belly reached perfection, Gustave drained the meat and began the next crucial step. Using a sharp skewer, he punctured the pork skin in a precise pattern, each hole designed to allow maximum flavor penetration.
"This is where the magic begins," he said, brushing the pork with rice vinegar and light soy sauce before lowering it into the same oil used for the taro. The skin began to bubble and transform, developing the distinctive "tiger skin" pattern that marked properly prepared braised pork.
His electromagnetic abilities came into play again, allowing him to maintain precise oil temperature without constantly adjusting the flame. The result was perfectly even browning that would have taken a conventional cook much longer to achieve.
"Magnifique," he murmured as he lifted out the gloriously golden pork. After a brief cooling period, he sliced both the meat and taro into matching thick rounds.
In a large bowl, he arranged the ingredients in alternating layers—pork, taro, pork, taro—creating an elegant pattern. The sauce he prepared combined fermented bean curd, Shaoxing wine, soy sauces, sweet bean paste, sugar, and salt into a rich, complex mixture that he spooned generously over the arranged ingredients.
"Into the steamer this goes," he announced, setting the bowl over vigorously boiling water. "Low, steady heat for the next hour."
Moving on to the soy sauce chicken, Gustave demonstrated a technique that had the disciples taking mental notes. Instead of simply braising the bird, he first heated oil in a heavy pot and seared the chicken on all sides, the electromagnetic enhancement ensuring even browning while developing deep, rich flavors.
"We're not just cooking the outside," he explained as the chicken skin crisped beautifully. "We're developing the fond—those delicious browned bits that will flavor our entire sauce."
He added aromatics—ginger, scallions, star anise, white peppercorns—then deglazed with Shaoxing wine and added soy sauce, rock sugar, and just enough hot water to half-cover the chicken.
"Now comes the technique that separates good cooks from great ones," he said, demonstrating the continuous basting method. Using a large spoon, he repeatedly ladled the dark, aromatic liquid over the exposed portions of the chicken, each application adding layers of color and flavor.
The pickled fish required different skills entirely. Gustave's knife work was a thing of beauty as he filleted the grass carp, his electromagnetic control ensuring each slice of fish was precisely the same thickness—thin enough to cook quickly but substantial enough to hold together in the bubbling broth.
"Attention," he said, rubbing salt into the fish slices and working them with his hands. "We're extracting the slime and any muddy flavors. This step cannot be rushed."
After multiple rinses in cold water, he marinated the pristine white fillets with salt, white pepper, Shaoxing wine, and cornstarch, his fingers gently mixing the ingredients until each piece was perfectly coated.
The sauerkraut he handled with equal care, rinsing it to moderate its acidity before cutting it into manageable pieces. In a large wok, he fried the fish bones and head until golden, then added aromatics and the pickled vegetables, building layer upon layer of flavor before adding boiling water for a milky white broth.
"The secret," he told his fascinated audience, "Is adding boiling water to hot oil and bones. This creates an emulsion that gives us the characteristic white color."
As the various dishes reached completion, the kitchen filled with an incredible symphony of aromas—the rich, wine-dark fragrance of the soy sauce chicken, the sweet-savory perfume of the steaming braised pork, and the bright, appetizing scent of the pickled fish broth.
"Voilà," Gustave announced as the last dish—a simple but perfectly executed stir-fried water spinach—emerged from the wok, its leaves bright green and glistening with garlic oil.
Despite their coordinated efforts and multiple hands at work, the sun had fully set by the time they finished.
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