During the preparation, Emily and Xiao Chen also became our valuable assistants. Emily used her public relations skills to gather more dirt on Max and his shady dealings within the family business. Xiao Chen was responsible for sourcing special ingredients for us and acting as our “informant,” keeping a close eye on Max’s movements.

Our relationship also subtly changed during this time. From initial rivals, to allies, and now… something ambiguous. We’d discuss recipes and joke around in the kitchen late at night. He’d casually wipe flour from my face, and I’d hand him a cup of hot tea when he was tired. Our distance grew shorter, and the sparks in our eyes became more obvious. I even started looking forward to training with him every night, looking forward to his blue eyes, looking forward to his slightly French-accented “Ms. Lin, you’ve improved again today.” My heart felt sweet. I knew I had not only found a perfect partner but also a man who made my heart flutter.

On the day of the finals, the entire studio was filled with a tense yet excited atmosphere. Media reporters swarmed, and the audience seats were packed. I could feel all eyes on us—Lucas and me, this suddenly emerged “Chinese-Western fusion” duo.

Max also appeared on site, sitting in the front row of the audience, a sneer of disdain on his face. He thought that even if we teamed up, we wouldn’t make much of a splash. Before the competition even started, he deliberately walked up to us and said sarcastically, “Good luck, but don’t expect miracles. Some things are simply destined.” His arrogant demeanor made me want to hit him with a wok spatula.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Lucas reached out and gently patted my shoulder, his eyes full of encouragement and trust. I looked at him, and my heart instantly filled with strength. Yes, we weren’t fighting alone; we were two people, the “red oil and red wine” combination, and we would definitely win!

The competition officially began, and we operated like two precisely synchronized machines, working together seamlessly and fluidly. I handled the Chinese ingredients, my knife skills swift, the chopping sounds crisp and pleasant. Lucas took care of the French components, his movements elegant and precise, every step like an artistic performance. Our two cooking stations, one full of smoky kitchen aroma, the other meticulously refined, yet wonderfully blended together.

I carefully drizzled the fragrant, dry-fried peppercorns and Laoganma sauce over the slow-cooked foie gras, then lightly torched it to crisp the surface, filling the air with its aroma. Lucas, meanwhile, used molecular gastronomy equipment to “atomize” the peppercorn sauce, making it float like a thin mist above the foie gras. The scene was a double delight for both sight and smell.

I never thought I’d work so seamlessly with a French chef, it was like flowing water, flashing knives and shadows, every cut landing squarely on Max’s face, letting him know what “hoist by one’s own petard” truly meant! He was in charge of stewing the red wine beef until it was tender and flavorful, while I added some Chinese spices to enrich the beef’s texture. We even played with dessert. We made a chocolate lava cake in the shape of a small hot pot, with molten chocolate lava inside, surrounded by various fruits, marshmallows, and some of my specially made chili chocolate chips. This dish, upon its debut, drew gasps from the entire audience.

Max’s face grew increasingly grim; he probably never expected that we could fuse Chinese and Western cuisine so perfectly, even beyond his imagination. His mouth hung open, his eyes filled with disbelief. Seeing his discomfited expression, I couldn’t be happier.

Our three dishes, like three heavy bombs, successively ignited the judges’ taste buds.

First was “Spicy Foie Gras Meets French Romance.” As the judges tasted this dish, their expressions went from initial confusion to shock, then finally to rapture. A three-Michelin-star chef put down his cutlery and exclaimed excitedly: “This is a miracle for the taste buds! The numbing spice of the peppercorns and the richness of the foie gras, how can they merge so harmoniously? It has both the spiciness of Chinese cuisine and the delicacy of French cuisine, truly incredible!” Another food critic sighed: “This isn’t just a dish; it’s a clash of cultures, an elevation of art! It shatters our preconceived notions of Chinese and French cuisine, simply brilliant!” Seeing their glowing praise, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly proud. Who said Chinese cuisine couldn’t be haute cuisine? My Laoganma foie gras will have those self-proclaimed refined palates on their knees, begging for more, crying for another serving. This is true “culinary diplomacy”!

Next was Lucas’s “Chinese-Style Red Wine Beef.” He used Chinese braising techniques to stew the beef until it was tender and flavorful, each piece soaking up the rich aroma of red wine and Chinese spices. He also paired it with some hand-pulled noodles, giving the dish more of a Chinese home-cooking feel. The judges’ eyes lit up after one bite. One judge said: “Mr. Lucas, you managed to create such a flavor with red wine beef, it’s simply a stroke of genius! It has both the elegance of French cuisine and the warmth of Chinese, leaving a lasting impression.” Lucas, hearing the judges’ praise, also showed a rare smile.

Finally, our show-stopping dessert—the “Hot Pot Chocolate Lava Cake.” As soon as this dish was served, it drew gasps from the entire hall. A hot pot-shaped chocolate cake with flowing hot chocolate lava inside, surrounded by various fruits, marshmallows, and my specially made chili chocolate chips. The judges looked at this groundbreaking dessert with curious expressions. They cautiously took a bite, and then their expressions instantly became complex.

One judge exclaimed: “This… this is absolutely crazy! The sweetness of chocolate, the spiciness of chili, the tartness of fruit, the soft chewiness of marshmallows—they somehow merge so perfectly, like a carnival for the taste buds! I never imagined dessert could offer such a thrilling experience!” Another judge laughed and said: “This dish perfectly captures the essence of hot pot and the romance of French dessert. It’s not just a dessert; it’s a way of life, a courage to experiment!”

I looked at the judges’ astonished expressions, filled with satisfaction. We succeeded! We conquered everyone’s taste buds with our food, and we shattered their prejudices against Chinese and Western cuisine. I looked at Lucas; he winked at me, his eyes full of pride and joy. At that moment, I felt like we were heroes fighting side by side, creating our own legend with our culinary skills.

The moment the competition results were announced, the air seemed to solidify. Director Wang held the envelope, a mysterious smile on his face. My heart pounded, and my palms were sweating. Lucas stood beside me; though outwardly calm, I could feel the dampness in his hand.

“And now, I announce, the champion of this year’s ‘Kitchen Showdown’ is…” Director Wang intentionally paused, building everyone’s suspense. I held my breath, staring intently at him.

“Is—Lin Wei and Lucas!”

The entire hall erupted instantly! Applause, cheers, camera flashes, they surged towards us like a tide. I felt like I was dreaming. Champion? We really won? I turned to look at Lucas; a wide smile spread across his face, and then he hugged me tightly. At that moment, I felt like I’d been struck by electricity, my whole body tingling, the joy and excitement in my heart impossible to express in words.

We accepted the trophy, standing center stage, receiving everyone’s congratulations. Just then, Lucas suddenly took the microphone and cleared his throat: “Thank you to the judges, to the production team, and to all our supportive viewers. Today, Lin Wei and I stand here not just because of our culinary skills, but because we believe that truth will always prevail, and justice will never be absent.” His voice was serious, his gaze fixed on Max in the audience.

Max’s face instantly turned pale; he seemed to have a premonition. Lucas continued: “During the competition, my brother Max, in order to seize the family inheritance, resorted to despicable means to frame Ms. Lin. He bribed staff to tamper with Ms. Lin’s seasonings, attempting to eliminate her. We have conclusive evidence of this!”

At these words, the entire hall erupted again! Everyone turned their attention to Max. Max, terrified, sprang from his seat, trying to escape, but he was quickly stopped by the staff. Lucas continued: “Max’s actions are not only an insult to Ms. Lin but also a stain on our family’s reputation. As the family heir, I have decided to acquire all of Max’s shares in the family business and publicly expose his crimes, letting him face the full force of the law!”

Hearing Lucas’s words, Max completely collapsed. He slumped to the ground, his face ashen. At that moment, I finally understood what true “face-slapping” meant. It wasn’t with a physical slap, but with truth and strength, crushing those rats from the gutter, leaving them no chance to recover. This was a truly satisfying revenge ending! The audience applauded enthusiastically, cheering Lucas’s decisiveness and righteousness. Max was eventually led away by the police; his fate was his own doing. Watching his retreating back, I had only two words: serves him right!

After the competition, Lucas’s father, the usually stern and rigid French culinary magnate, personally came backstage. He looked at Lucas, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He walked forward and hugged Lucas tightly, his voice trembling slightly: “Lucas, I’m sorry. Your father was wrong about you. You did very well; you proved yourself and salvaged the family’s reputation.” Lucas also hugged his father tightly, and the rift between father and son completely dissolved at that moment.

I watched the scene of their father-son reconciliation, and a warm feeling welled up inside me. Just then, my phone rang. It was my dad. I answered, and before I could speak, I heard his voice, excited and slightly distorted: “Weiwei! You won! You really won! Dad saw it on TV! You’re amazing! Lin’s Wontons is saved!” His tone was even more excited than if he had won the lottery himself.

“Dad, don’t get so excited, take care of your health,” I said with a smile. He lowered his voice, but I could still hear the excitement: “Weiwei, that Wang boy, Dad has already made it clear to them. This arranged marriage is completely canceled! You don’t have to marry him! Whoever you like, Dad will support you! You are Dad’s pride!” My nose stung, and tears almost fell again. My dad, that old stubborn man, probably never imagined in his life that his beloved daughter could play with Chinese cuisine in such a grand way, and even solve the arranged marriage problem that he couldn’t solve in his entire life. It was truly “an old tree blossoming anew, an old dad overjoyed”! He finally stopped pressuring me. This feeling of being understood and supported made me happier than winning the competition.

Even more gratifying, Lucas’s father, after learning about my culinary skills and the history of Lin’s Wontons, actually approached me and apologized: “Ms. Lin, I used to be prejudiced against Chinese cuisine, and that was my fault. Today, seeing your and Lucas’s work, I understand that good food knows no borders, and the profound depth of Chinese cuisine far exceeds my imagination.” He even proactively offered to visit Lin’s Wontons to taste my cooking.

I looked at Lucas and his father, and my own dad. All their faces were smiling, their eyes filled with a love for food and respect for culture. At that moment, I suddenly felt that we had not only won the competition but also gained mutual understanding and respect. Chinese cuisine and French cuisine, red oil and red wine, were no longer opposites but could merge, creating something even more beautiful together.

After the competition, Lucas and I made a bold decision—we decided to merge our restaurants. Lucas transformed his family’s flagship store in New York into our new restaurant. My dad’s Lin’s Wontons also moved here, becoming the “Chinese Cuisine Department” of the new restaurant.

We named the new restaurant “Red Oil and Red Wine.” This name represented both our union and the perfect fusion of Chinese and French cuisine. The restaurant’s design was also interesting: half was filled with Eastern charm, with wooden structures and ink paintings, and half was a simple yet grand French style, separated by a transparent glass wall, yet complementing each other.

“Red Oil and Red Wine” instantly became a new legend in New York’s culinary scene. Every day, diners flocked in, and reservation calls exploded. Our “Spicy Foie Gras,” “Chinese-Style Red Wine Beef,” and “Hot Pot Chocolate Lava Cake” became signature dishes, attracting countless food enthusiasts. Who said red oil and red wine couldn’t be enjoyed together? We proved that as long as the taste is right, no matter how disparate, you can create an unparalleled delicacy, making those who once looked down on us line up to give us their money.

My dad and Lucas’s father also frequently visited the restaurant to “inspect the work,” and offer us “valuable advice.” These two old stubborn men, once at odds, had now become kindred spirits. Watching them enjoy themselves, my heart swelled with satisfaction.

Our relationship, too, deepened with the restaurant’s success. Lucas was no longer that arrogant French aristocrat; he would try to speak a few clumsy Chinese phrases for me and secretly bring me a cup of my favorite hot tea when I was busy. And I was no longer just the “wok-hei girl” who only knew how to work hard; I started learning to wear pretty clothes, to enjoy life, and to show him my softer side.

We would develop new dishes together in the kitchen late at night, discuss business strategies, and also, amidst the busyness, secretly hold hands and steal kisses. He would lift me, seat me on the counter, then lower his head to gently kiss my forehead, my cheek, and finally, my lips. His kisses carried the richness of red wine and the warmth of red chili oil, intoxicating me.

My whole life, I never believed in love, but it came like a sudden dish, hitting your taste buds when you least expected it, making you crave more, and from then on, you could never leave this “human delicacy.” I finally escaped the shadow of the arranged marriage and found true freedom. I was no longer a pawn dictated by fate; I was Lin Wei, a free and spirited chef, a woman who was loved.

“Red Oil and Red Wine” was more than just a restaurant; it became a bridge for cultural exchange. Diners from all over the world came to taste the unique fusion of Chinese and Western flavors and to experience the sparks that ignite when different cultures collide. With our food, we broke down language barriers and cultural divides, allowing more people to understand and fall in love with Chinese cuisine.

Lucas and I were also frequently invited to various international food festivals to showcase our “Red Oil and Red Wine” philosophy to the world. Through our story, we told everyone that with passion and a willingness to innovate, anything impossible can become possible. We weren’t just cooking; we were telling a story, using taste and warmth to show the world that different cultures can indeed create the most dazzling sparks, letting everyone know that the highest realm of cuisine is fusion, is love.

Days turned into weeks, and our small restaurant, no, our “culinary empire,” flourished. My dad and Lucas’s father also became regulars, coming daily to “inspect” and offer “valuable insights.” Auntie Li and Xiao Chen became “veterans” of the restaurant, and seeing us grow from nothing to thriving, they were even happier than we were.

I once thought home was just the old storefront of Lin’s Wontons, and my dad’s worried face. But now I understand that home is not just a place; it’s a feeling, a sense of belonging. It’s the “Red Oil and Red Wine” that Lucas and I created together, it’s the sweat and laughter we shared in the kitchen, it’s our mutual understanding and support.

Life is like a bowl of noodles; you never know what the next chopstick will pick up, but as long as you dare to try, you’ll always find unexpected surprises, and perhaps even discover that what you’ve been searching for was right beside you all along. Our story continues, like that ever-simmering broth of red oil and red wine, full of infinite possibilities.