Reborn as the Queen of Cuisine

As the National Day fireworks burst outside the window, I stood in the prep room of the national Kitchen God Competition. I am Phoebe Sharpe, representing SJ Group in this competition. Her white chef's uniform was immaculately pressed, and the carving knife in her hand still shimmered with the cold gleam of a freshly sharpened blade. Aurora Larsen, the assistant in charge of the side dishes, suddenly rushed in, her face ashen. The storage box in her hands slipped to the floor, sending bright green asparagus spilling everywhere, stained with brown smudges. "Ms. Sharpe, I'm so sorry. I accidentally ruined all the side dishes." Her voice trembled, yet she quietly pulled a cardboard box labeled "Instant meal pack" from behind her. "I don't think there's enough time. Let's use this prepared dish—just heat it up, the flavor will be close enough, and the judges won't be able to tell." I stared at that cardboard box, fury instantly rising to my head. A prepared dish? This is an insult to the Kitchen God Competition and a disgrace to SJ Group's name. "Aurora Larsen, do you even know what you're saying?" My voice was as cold as ice, fingers tightening around the knife handle. She kept defending herself, claiming it was just an emergency measure and no one would check closely anyway. I stopped listening to her excuses and pointed toward the prep room door. "You're fired. Leave immediately." Aurora Larsen stood frozen, then broke into tears, begging that her family was struggling and she couldn't lose this job. I remained unmoved, firmly insisting she leave. Watching her hesitate as she walked away, I took a deep breath and turned to the remaining ingredients. Carrots, potatoes, a small piece of beef, and a few eggs. It's enough—when you put your heart into it, even simple ingredients can create stunning flavors. I tightened my apron once more, ignited the flame, heated the pan, and poured in the oil. When the oil reached a moderate heat, the beef was placed into the pan, sizzling with a mouthwatering aroma. The carrots and potatoes were cut into evenly sized pieces, then stir-fried until their sweet fragrance was released. Finally, I drizzled my own special sauce over it and let it simmer gently on low heat. As the bell rang to start the competition, I stepped onto the stage carrying the dish "Prosperity Feast". At first, the judges frowned upon seeing such humble ingredients, but after tasting it, their eyes lit up. "The flavors are deeply layered; the true essence of each ingredient has been awakened!" "This dish may seem simple, but it reveals true mastery!" In the end, I held the Chef God's trophy in my hands. In the audience, the president of SJ Group, my future husband, Leon Deer, smiled as he applauded me. At that moment, I still believed it was the beginning of happiness. Only later did I realize it was merely the prelude to a tragedy. My success paved the way for SJ Group's smooth expansion into the catering industry, with chain stores opening across the country. As for the dismissed Aurora Larsen, it was said she faced rejection everywhere she sought work. Her parents, ashamed of her, soon arranged her marriage to a man hopelessly addicted to alcohol. Later, I heard she suffered domestic abuse and ultimately died on a cold winter's night; her body wasn't found until days later. I thought it had nothing to do with me—until Leon Deer blamed her death on me. The night before the bell rang, he brought me a glass of red wine, saying we should celebrate the company going public. Off guard, I drank it down. When I woke, my head was splitting, and a share transfer agreement lay before me. He gripped my hand and pressed my fingerprint onto the agreement. "Phoebe Sharpe, if you hadn't fired Aurora Larsen, she wouldn't be dead." "Now, hand over all the shares to me—that will be your redemption." I struggled to resist, but the men he summoned held me down. In the end, he threw me into a beggars' den on the city outskirts. Those people surrounded me, their eyes filled with greed and malice—I will never forget them until my dying breath. My body wasn't discovered until a year later, found by an old scavenger. Leon Deer forged a suicide note, claiming I took my own life out of depression, and left all the shares to himself. He took the fruits of my labor and continued living a dazzling life. I wandered through endless darkness for what felt like an eternity, until I opened my eyes once more.