Chapter 22: Simply Delicious

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He personally carried the pot of chicken soup, infused with the essence of life, and walked at the very front.

Wherever the dining cart passed, its fragrance filled the air.

Every servant and bodyguard they encountered in the corridor stopped in their tracks, drawing deep breaths through their noses.

“Good heavens… What is that smell?”

“Is it… the scent of paradise?”

“Why do I… why do I feel as though I’m about to start flying?”

Uncle Zhong paid no attention to their loss of composure.

He headed straight for the detached Chinese-style building in the rear courtyard.

That was the true heart of the Lin family—the bedroom of Old Master Lin.

…

Inside the small building, the atmosphere was so oppressive it was difficult to breathe.

Lin Jian’guo, the current chairman of the Lin Group, sat haggardly beside the bed, gazing at his father, who lay there with a face as pale as gold paper and barely perceptible breaths.

Several of the nation’s foremost medical experts stood beside him, yet at that moment, they were completely helpless.

“Chairman Lin, the old master’s vital signs… have become extremely weak.”

The elderly expert in charge sighed. “All his organs are failing. At present… at present, he is being kept alive entirely by machines and medication. You… you must prepare yourself mentally.”

Lin Jian’guo’s eyes were bloodshot, every inch of them webbed with red.

He waved a hand, his voice hoarse. “I understand. You may leave for now.”

The experts bowed slightly and withdrew without a sound.

Only the father and son remained in the room, accompanied by the steady beep… beep… of the medical equipment.

Just then, a faint knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

Lin Jian’guo did not turn his head. His voice was filled with exhaustion.

The door opened, and Uncle Zhong pushed the dining cart inside.

Lin Jian’guo spun around. He froze for a moment, then frowned.

“Old Zhong, didn’t I tell you? Take all that away! How could Dad possibly eat anything in his condition?”

He had never placed much hope in the dishes prepared at Jiang Zhiyun’s request. He had merely been willing to try anything, partly to give the Jiang family some consideration.

He had not expected them to actually succeed.

“Chairman…”

Uncle Zhong’s voice trembled with indescribable excitement.

“Please… please take a look first. See for yourself.”

Lin Jian’guo’s gaze fell upon the dining cart.

At a single glance, his pupils contracted sharply.

Though he knew nothing about cooking, as the man at the helm of the Lin Group, what delicacies had he never seen?

What renowned chefs had he never met?

And yet, the dishes before him…

Whether it was their astonishingly exquisite presentation, their crystalline luster, or the peerless fragrance that surged toward him and instantly stirred his appetite…

All of it lay far beyond the boundaries of his understanding.

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Just as he stood there in stunned disbelief, the old man on the bed, who had shown no response whatsoever, suddenly moved his eyelids ever so slightly.

Then his cracked lips began to move faintly.

After great difficulty, he spoke.

His voice was barely audible, but Lin Jian’guo heard him.

“Fragrant… so fragrant…”

Lin Jian’guo’s entire body jolted. He lunged to the bedside and stared at his father in disbelief.

“Dad! Dad! You’re awake? Can you hear me?”

Old Master Lin’s eyelids trembled several more times before finally opening a narrow slit.

His cloudy eyes, nearly devoid of focus, turned sluggishly, as though searching for the source of that enticing fragrance.

At last, his gaze settled on the pot of creamy white chicken soup.

“Soup…”

It was only one word, yet it sent Lin Jian’guo into delirium with joy.

His father had not spoken of his own accord for three whole days!

“Soup! Yes! Soup!”

Lin Jian’guo was so overwhelmed that his words tumbled over one another. He hurriedly called to Uncle Zhong, “Old Zhong! Quickly! Bring the soup over!”

Uncle Zhong did not dare delay. He immediately ladled a small bowl of chicken soup and respectfully handed it over.

The broth was milky white, its delicate fragrance overflowing.

Lin Jian’guo took the bowl and carefully scooped up a small spoonful. He blew on it again and again before slowly bringing it to the old master’s lips.

“Dad, come on. Open your mouth.”

A miracle occurred.

Old Master Lin’s body trembled slightly.

“It’s… it’s delicious…”

Though his voice remained weak, it was much clearer than before.

“More…”

“All right, all right! Dad, there’s plenty more!”

Lin Jian’guo’s hands shook with excitement as he quickly scooped up another spoonful and fed it to him.

One spoonful, then another.

The small bowl of chicken soup was soon empty.

A faint flush of color miraculously appeared on Old Master Lin’s face.

He even managed to prop himself up slightly, his eyes fixed eagerly on the other dishes on the dining cart.

“That… that fish… I’d like to try some too…”

Lin Jian’guo was utterly dumbfounded.

He could scarcely believe his own eyes.

The doctors had already issued a critical condition notice.

For several days, his father had barely eaten anything at all—

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because he simply could not swallow it.

Nor had he possessed any appetite.

Nothing tasted or smelled appealing to him.

That was why Lin Jian’guo had continually sought out chefs.

But now? Not only had his father finished an entire bowl of soup, he actually wanted to eat fish as well?

How could this be ordinary food?

It was plainly a miraculous elixir!

“Quick! Give Dad a piece of fish!”

Lin Jian’guo practically shouted the order.

Uncle Zhong hurriedly picked up a small piece of snow-white fish coated in sauce, carefully removed every possible bone, and brought it to the old master’s lips.

A sweet-and-sour flavor burst across his taste buds.

The fish was tender and delicate, melting in his mouth.

Old Master Lin narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

“This taste… this taste…” he murmured, as though recalling something from the distant past. “I thought… I thought I would never taste it again in this lifetime…”

During that meal, Old Master Lin ate nearly half a bowl of rice—a feat unprecedented in recent memory—and sampled a little of every dish.

His condition improved at a speed visible to the naked eye.

When he finally set down his chopsticks, he was even able to let out a hearty sigh.

“Wonderful!”

The medical instruments in the room faithfully recorded this unbelievable scene.

His heart rate rose from forty-five beats per minute to sixty.

His blood pressure, too, returned from the brink of danger to a relatively stable level.

When the medical experts hurried back and saw the monitoring data, they were all struck dumb, their mouths hanging open wide enough to swallow a light bulb.

“This… this is impossible! It defies all medical logic!”

“The patient’s vital signs are… they’re actually improving!”

“Those dishes… Could they possibly be some kind of elixir?”

Looking at his father, whose condition had visibly improved, Lin Jian’guo felt a surge of joy and gratitude beyond the power of words to describe.

He owed the Jiang family an enormous debt of gratitude.

He turned to Uncle Zhong.

“Old Zhong! Notify everyone immediately!”

“Our Lin Group accepts the Jiang Group’s proposal! We’ll cooperate with the Jiang family on the Riverside New District project! Have the legal department draft the agreement at once—make it happen as quickly as possible!”

Uncle Zhong nodded firmly.

“Yes, Chairman!”

“And one more thing!”

“This chef… this Chen Yu—who exactly is he? Find out!”