Chapter 56 This Can No Longer Be Called a Secret Recipe

The next day, the four members of the second Wen family set out with their cart to set up their stall.

Once the stall was set up, Second Wen said to Wen Mei and her sister, "Business isn't doing well anyway. I'm going to the county town to see if there are any other odd jobs. You two keep a good watch on the stall."

With that, he drove the donkey cart toward the county town.

Upon arriving in the county seat, Second Wen headed straight for the largest restaurant in the area—Decai Restaurant.

Manager Wang was tallying his account books, smiling as he clicked the abacus. Business had rebounded recently, and with it, the manager's mood had vastly improved.

Second Wen walked in and said, "Manager, I'd like to sell a recipe for a dish."

Manager Wang looked up. "Oh? Did you bring the dish? Let me have a look."

Because of the cold-dressed dish recipe Wen Ye had provided previously, the customers were extremely satisfied, which in turn made their restaurant business even more booming. In just a few days, they had already earned back the cost of purchasing the recipe.

Second Wen wore a smug expression. "Of course I brought it! You'll definitely be satisfied once you try it, Manager! This is a secret recipe our family came up with ourselves."

As he spoke, he put down the bamboo basket on his back and took out a small earthenware pot. "Have a look!"

He opened it, and a familiar sour and tangy aroma rushed straight into his nostrils.

Presenting it like a rare treasure, he said, "Don't let the fact that these are all vegetarian ingredients fool you—it's fragrant, tangy, and appetizing. It's the absolute best thing to eat in this scorching weather."

Manager Wang exchanged glances with the waiter nearby and stared in astonishment.

Second Wen urged anxiously, "Don't just stand there doubting—try it first, Manager!"

With that, he produced a pair of chopsticks.

With a peculiar expression on his face, Manager Wang took the chopsticks, tried a mouthful, and shook his head. "It's quite mediocre. Not even as good as the ones we make here."

"How can you call this mediocre? It must be that you..." Second Wen wanted to say the manager's sense of taste was failing, but realizing how inappropriate that sounded, he quickly changed his tack. "Well, perhaps it doesn't suit the manager's palate, but most people will still love it! Little waiter, come and try some too."

The waiter chuckled, took a bite, and said, "It really is very ordinary!"

Second Wen's expression shifted, though he wasn't too surprised—they must be trying to drive down the price!

Manager Wang looked at him with a strange expression. "What is your surname? Which village are you from?"

"My surname is Wen, called Wen Duoliang, from Qingshui Village." Was the man looking to buy it now?

Manager Wang stroked his chin in thought. "Surname Wen, and from Qingshui Village as well... How much are you planning to sell it for?"

Second Wen said pleasantly surprised, "I'm not asking for much—just three hundred taels!"

Manager Wang and the waiter both gasped.

Manager Wang let out a cold laugh. "Get out, get out, get out! What kind of nonsense is this! We've been selling cold-dressed dishes here for days! Yours don't even taste as good as ours, and besides, the original recipe didn't even cost three hundred taels. You open your mouth and ask for this much—why don't you just go rob someone?"

"What?" Second Wen's expression changed drastically. "You already have cold-dressed dishes? Impossible, how..."

At that moment, two customers walked in. "Waiter, bring us a plate of cold-dressed noodles and a portion of cold-dressed cucumbers. Also, two bowls of white porridge and three meat buns."

Chatting casually, they took their seats by the window.

The waiter acknowledged the order and hurried into the kitchen.

Before long, all the dishes were served.

Second Wen stared fixedly at the cold-dressed noodles and cucumbers on the tray, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "You—"

Manager Wang smiled genially. "Please take your leave! Oh, by the way, the recipe for the cold-dressed dishes has already been purchased by our Decai Restaurant. As for your recipe..."

"As far as I know, they all originate from the same household. The original owner has already sold it. If you dare to sell it to another establishment, I'll have to report you to the authorities and have you thrown in jail."

A loud roar echoed in Second Wen's head. They already had the recipe! And judging by what he said, it must have been sold by that wretched girl.

Fuming with anger, Second Wen stormed out of Decai Restaurant.

Then he received an even greater shock: on the street, he spotted multiple stalls selling cold-dressed dishes, and even other restaurants had hung out signs advertising cold-dressed dishes.

Seeing Decai Restaurant roll out this new food item, everyone was jumping on the bandwagon!

Who knew whether they had managed to grasp the essence of it or not!

Anxious, Second Wen bought a portion of cold-dressed food from a street stall and tasted it. He felt slightly relieved—it wasn't very fragrant!

Then, gritting his teeth, he bought a portion from another restaurant, and his expression instantly changed—it was actually fragrant as well.

How could they also know how to use spices?

What Second Wen didn't know was that he had severely underestimated the master chefs in large restaurants.

Once Decai Restaurant introduced the dish, other restaurants might not have been able to figure it out immediately, but over time, they were bound to stumble upon the methods.

Although the ingredient ratios and exact flavors differed, each had its own unique merits!

Second Wen instantly felt dizzy. He staggered back to the small town in low spirits.

After giving it some thought, he ran over to the largest restaurant in town.

He wasn't really afraid of Decai Restaurant's threat to report him to the authorities; that was merely an intimidation tactic.

Once too many people knew the recipe, it would be impossible to tell who had sold it in the first place, nor could anyone prove whether a restaurant had invented it themselves.

Second Wen walked into the restaurant, but the manager, seeing that he was offering a cold-dressed dish recipe, immediately waved his hands. "No, no, we don't need it! I bought the recipe long ago! And we've been selling it for days already."

Second Wen stared in wide-eyed disbelief. "Who sold it? Was it that wretched girl Wen Ye?"

"No. It was sold by someone named Luo Daliang!"

"Luo Daliang?" Wasn't that the eldest brother of his sister-in-law, Mrs. Luo?

Mrs. Luo had actually leaked the recipe to her maiden family! And had even sold it!

Stammering, Second Wen asked, "How much did he sell it for?"

"Two taels of silver!"

"Two taels? Two taels?!"

"What, do you think two taels is too little?" The manager rolled his eyes at him. "Take a look around—there are six or seven cold-dressed food stalls in this town alone. If someone wants to figure out what the core fragrance is, they just need to spend a little time, buy one of them a few drinks, and everything will spill right out."

Second Wen collapsed onto the ground.

Indeed, once too many people knew about it, it was no longer a secret recipe.

One household after another, and every household had several mouths!

There was always someone loose-lipped; a few cups of liquor down the throat and they would spill secrets like dumping beans from a bag.

Not to mention the way recipes were passed from relative to relative!

Just like how Third Wen had leaked the recipe to their family, and once Mrs. Luo found out, she had leaked it to her own maiden family.

As it gradually spread far and wide, could it still be called a secret recipe?

The fact that someone was willing to give two taels was actually quite generous!