The Game of Life

Jiang Feng, feeling uneasy, continued to sit in the corner and silently eat his boxed lunch, while Zhang Guanghang sat on one of the only two sofas in the resting area, surrounded by women staff members of various ages.

Longan, cherry, freshly squeezed juice, exquisite fruit plates…

Jiang Feng looked at the basic boxed lunch with two vegetarian dishes and one meat dish in his hands and the bottle of now cold boiled water at his feet. What a stark contrast, what a vast disparity.

Jiang Feng immediately turned his head away, not looking anymore, not looking anymore; indeed, comparisons to others can really kill one’s spirit.

At around 7:40, staff members came to call the contestants to take their places at the competition site.

The audience was already seated, and the judges had settled in their seats. Jiang Feng knew nothing about lighting and cameras-those were for the experts to handle—he just needed to stand quietly in front of the cooking station and wait for the competition to start.

Han Guishan sat leisurely in the judges’ area, eyeing each contestant with interest, and sometimes Jiang Feng really wondered where this strangely-styled boss found the time to not attend to his proper business every day.

Jiang Feng looked towards the audience, and as expected of a provincial channel, even the seating for the audience was spacious. Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian stood out notably in the second row, with Jiang Jiankang excitedly waving at Jiang Feng.

Mrs. Wang Xiulian, looking disdainful, slapped away his waving left hand with a pia.

Jiang Weiming smiled at him while Jiang Weiguo was looking elsewhere, not seeing Jiang Feng at all. What was more coincidental was that Sun Guanyun was sitting right next to Jiang Weiguo.

On the cooking stations, there were no pots, only cutting boards and knives, along with a bowl of some mysterious substance that seemed to be a mix of’ various spices and seasonings and a cup of strangely colored juice.

It seemed Wu Minqi guessed right, the competition was indeed about knifework.

The lighting and camera equipment were all in place, and as soon as it hit 8 o’clock, the live broadcast promptly began.

The female host melodiously delivered an opening speech—matters that nobody cared about-but after a few sentences giving a brief introduction to the Good Taste Culinary Competition and mentioning the sponsor, she quickly got to the point and introduced the judges.

All the contestants were surprised to find that the host’s introduction of the judges was exactly the same script they had been told earlier, word for word. “Now, let me announce the rules for this round of the ₃2-to-i6 knockout competition.”

Finally, it was getting to the point.

“The theme of this competition is, ‘Flavor and Minced Delicacy.”‘ As soon as the host’s voice fell, the characters for ‘Flavor and Minced Delicacy’ appeared on the screen behind her.

“As everyone knows, knifework and seasoning are the basic skills of a chef. In this competition, what we will examine is the contestants’ basic skills.”

“On each cooking station, there is a bowl of mixed substance ground from sixteen different spices and seasonings. Contestants can only smell but not taste, if anyone violates this rule, they will be disqualified immediately. The cup of vegetable juice on the right side of the cooking station is made from twelve different cooked vegetables blended together, which contestants may taste freely. You have half an hour for observation and answering. Whiteboards are under the cooking stations, each correct answer scores one point, each wrong deducts one. Please, contestants, do not be overoptimistic and try to guess your way through.”

The eight contestants with the lowest scores will be eliminated on the spot.” There are 3 minutes left before the start of the competition, when the countdown on the screen ends, contestants may begin.” A clock counting down appeared on the screen.

Jiang Feng’s heart skipped a beat, feeling his chances cooling.

Glancing around in a panic, everyone else’s faces were filled with calmness and nonchalance, as if the problem was not big, a piece of cake, so simple. They wore an air of ease, as if the championship was already in their pocket. Jiang Feng felt like a clueless chicken wandering into a gathering of big shots. “Dad, what do we do? Feng’s sense of smell and taste aren’t good!” Jiang Jiankang was also starting to panic in the audience, hurriedly seeking help from Jiang Weiguo, “That Texas grilled chicken he made last time… how is he supposed to compete!”

“Shut up!” Jiang Weiguo snapped impatiently.

“Oh, is your grandson about to be eliminated?” Sun Guanyun added fuel to the fire.

“If my grandson is getting eliminated, yours isn’t far off either,” Jiang Weiguo retorted sharply.

“Heh.”

Feigning composure on the surface but frantic inside, Jiang Feng watched the finely ground spices in the bowl like the person next to him, quite calmly. It really was powder; from what Jiang Feng could see, even slightly larger grains were invisible, indicating a very fine grind that left no loophole to exploit.

With each tick of the three-minute countdown, Jiang Feng grew more tense, as if there was a guillotine over his neck, slowly descending with each second, promising death when the competition ended.

With both elders seated in the audience, if Jiang Feng got eliminated, he doubted he would make it out of the studio alive.

“Drip, drip, drip, the competition begins,” announced the mechanical voice.

Jiang Feng took a deep breath, consoling himself.

It’s okay, it’s okay, they are all pretending. They are also uneasy-who can be sure with such anti-human topics?

He grabbed a small pinch of the powder into his palm, rubbed it open, and brought it to his nose with closed eyes to sniff carefully.

First to hit were the unmistakable scents of star anise and angelica, very easy to distinguish.

Sixteen different spices and seasonings, all mixed together, and only permitted to be smelled, not tasted-some almost indistinguishable in aroma and others faint in scent but strong in flavor. Jiang Feng closed his eyes and remained motionless, smelling quietly for a long time, so long that one might wonder if he had fallen asleep.

That’s what Jiang Jiankang thought. Not daring to bother Jiang Weiguo, he could only annoy Wang Xiulian.

“What’s going on with our son? Why isn’t he moving at all?”

“Could he have fallen asleep?”

“He was told to rest well and not to play on his phone until the middle of the night, but he doesn’t listen. Look, at the crucial moment, he feels sleepy.” “What are we going to do? What are we going to do? Others have started writing, why isn’t he moving yet?”

Wang Xiulian was nervous too. Jiang Jiankang’s incessant chatter made her even more anxious, and she scolded, “Shut your mouth, old fool, sleep your head!”

Jiang Jiankang shut his mouth, feeling wronged.

After a while, Wang Xiulian asked, “Is this smelling task difficult?”

“Difficult,” Jiang Jiankang replied bluntly, “Smelling spices is harder than tasting vegetable juice; the sense of smell really tests natural talent.” Elsewhere, Sun Guanyun mumbled to himself, “This weird task of smelling spices must be Xu Cheng’s doing.”

Eight minutes passed, and finally, Jiang Feng opened his eyes.

He had identified seven spices.

Star anise, angelica, black pepper powder, lemongrass, Sichuan pepper, mint, and cumin.

There were also cinnamon twigs and cinnamon bark; he vaguely smelled them but couldn’t determine which it was.

He could only be sure of seven spices, and he truly felt uncertain.

Subconsciously, he glanced around, and most people had already started tasting the vegetable juice.

Jiang Feng first wrote the seven spices he was certain of on the whiteboard, then picked up the vegetable juice.

The strange color, a mix of twelve vegetables; Jiang Feng sipped a little and almost cried.

I understand the reason, but why did you have to put in facing heaven chilies?

Are you happy with this torment?

With the first sip, Jiang Feng tasted the facing heaven chili.

Desperately, he picked up the cup and tasted a second time.

Tomato, pumpkin, white radish.

With the third sip, onion and some kind of mushroom.

The fourth sip, carrot, luffa.

The fifth sip, Chinese cabbage.

With the sixth sip, Jiang Feng felt confident, based on his experience of simmering mushroom soup for a month, that the mushroom in it was hericium mushroom.

The seventh sip, kale.

The eighth sip, potato.

The ninth sip, he couldn’t taste anything.

The tenth sip, still couldn’t taste anything.

The eleventh sip.

Jiang Feng felt a bit full.

Having consumed over half a cup of vegetable juice, on top of the boxed meal he hadn’t digested earlier, Jiang Feng feared he might burp in front of everyone.

He couldn’t taste the last vegetable.

Jiang Feng began to write down the names of the vegetables on the whiteboard.

In the audience, Wang Xiulian noticed Jiang Feng’s current state at a glance and turned her head to say to Jiang Jiankang, “Son, he’s full.”

Jiang Jiankang:”…”

Why was his son so honest? Everyone else tasted little by little, but he was drinking it in gulps. The large cup was about to be finished in his presence.

Seven spices, eleven vegetables, Jiang Feng was confident he could score eighteen points. Before he could feel proud, he looked around and saw everyone’s faces filled with confidence.

Jiang Feng couldn’t drink any more vegetable juice; if he did, he would be too full, and even drinking all of it, he probably couldn’t discern the last two kinds.

He turned his attention to the spices.

With more than ten minutes to go, if he tried hard enough, maybe he could discern whether it was cinnamon bark or cinnamon twigs.

Picking up the bowl of spices, Jiang Feng planned to sniff it all at once.

He aligned the rim of the bowl with the tip of his nose.

“Ding, game update complete.”

Jiang Feng didn’t have time to be happy; the next second—

“Optional side quest available, please…”

“Optional side…”

“Available…”

“Earned 97 experience points…”

“Earned 6…”

“Earned…”

“Earned…”

“Acquired: Appraisal (High Level).”

“Information unlocked…”

“Earned 1…”

Thousands of different game notifications simultaneously exploded in Jiang

Feng’s mind like cannonballs, detonating inside his head.

“Duang.”

Jian Feng, holding the bowl of spices, collapsed straight to the ground.

“Son!” Wang Xiulian and Jiang Jiankang screamed from the audience.

The two sirs sprang to their feet instantly.

“Jiang Feng!” Wu Minqi dropped her cup and ran toward him.

“This contestant!”

“Contestant Jiang Feng!”

Chaos ensued both on stage and in the audience.