The Way of Restraint

Chapter 81: Saving Beauty in Passing – Life is Like Chess, Full of Uncertainty

Flames rolled within the wok, the spatula fluttered like a butterfly, and the large iron pan bounced rhythmically in Su Jie’s hands. Every ingredient inside was evenly exposed to the heat. This required total focus—to sense the changing temperature of the fire and the way the seasonings were seeping into the food.

Even a moment’s distraction would ruin the dish’s perfect flavor.

The pan at home was one of those old-fashioned iron woks, completely uncoated—not like the stainless steel or non-stick ones commonly sold in stores.

Only a raw iron wok could infuse that unique iron-plate aroma into the ingredients.

But such woks were incredibly heavy. Most people couldn’t even lift one, let alone toss ingredients with it.

Su Jie, however, had serious martial art skills and enormous arm strength. Tossing the pan was easy for him. But doing it while maintaining perfect control over the heat and ensuring every piece of food was evenly cooked—that was as difficult as embroidering a balloon with a needle. One slip, and it would all go boom.

Cooking was easy to learn. But to bring out color, aroma, and flavor—to let the deliciousness penetrate to someone’s very bones and soul—wasn’t something hard work alone could accomplish. It demanded exquisite control and total unity between heart and action.

It was, in essence, the same as martial art.

No—more than that—it came from the same source.

Su Jie had been learning to cook for a month. Today, he finally grasped the essence of it.

He had only practiced one dish over and over: stir-fried cabbage with pork.

Mixing vegetables and meat into a dish where both flavors fully fuse together—that was no small feat.

But today, Su Jie finally pulled it off.

He felt his martial art had improved as a result.

‘Martial art really is present in every little part of daily life. It’s not something you can chase through brute force. Now I understand the level Coach Odell has achieved. The Typhon Training Camp has the most advanced technology and enhancement drugs you’d only find in a lab. But if your mental strength doesn’t keep up, those tools might help, but they’ll never take you to the peak.’

Just like mastering the “Hoe Strike” move, once he perfected stir-fried cabbage with pork, the other dishes he cooked shot up in quality too.

Green peppers with scrambled eggs, minced pork with eggplant, garlic ribs, spicy chicken… each came effortlessly. The more homestyle the dish, the harder it was to get right—but Su Jie was now completely at ease.

“I remember in a wuxia novel, there was a kitchen monk at Shaolin Temple who ended up mastering supreme martial arts, causing an uproar. Cooking really is great for practicing martial art—if you put your heart into it and control the heat right. Gentle simmering for internal energy, strong fire for strikes, sudden bursts for explosive movement—it’s the same as internal, external, and hardened training in martial arts. Ordinary ingredients, once handled by a master, can become legendary dishes. It’s all a matter of timing and heat. Same with people—get the heat just right, and you can become a master.”

While pondering this, his hands moved quickly, packing all the food into an insulated container to deliver to his mom.

Though it was winter break, his mom was still busy giving lectures—those gigs came with cash bonuses, a nice side income beyond her salary.

In previous years, Su Jie would take tutoring jobs over the holidays through websites. But this winter break, he had money—so he took it easy.

His next plan was to consider upgrading to a bigger home.

But in S City, homes easily cost tens of millions. The larger ones go for dozens of millions, and some villas start at over a hundred million. His one million was basically pocket change.

Still, their current place was too cramped. Su Jie wanted a spacious study where he could cultivate himself, practice calligraphy, and collect more books.

He glanced at the pile of books stacked on his bed and the notebooks and workbooks crammed in the corner. He shook his head. This was a true “shabby room.” Even though he wasn’t materialistic, he’d long had the idea of improving his parents’ living conditions.

Their neighborhood was too old. The original residents had mostly moved out, replaced by renters. Property management didn’t care. Cars were parked haphazardly. Graffiti was everywhere. The flower beds were broken and dirty. The whole area was just a mess.