Chapter Twenty-Two: The Exorbitantly Priced Tea Egg

Last night, I stayed up late to watch the new Yu-Gi-Oh! movie. Initially, I just wanted to indulge in some late-night nostalgia, but I ended up watching for two whole hours. Unlike those flashy cash-grab movies that other old anime franchises churn out, this one was truly captivating, both in plot and pacing! The CEO’s love for the King is as profound as ever—he wishes to see him, even if it means scattering into dust. I’m almost inspired to write something about Yu-Gi-Oh! myself… but perhaps I’ll wait until after the Fantasy-level arc. Anyway, if you haven’t seen it yet and you’re fond of the original Yu-Gi-Oh!, it’s worth a watch. And as always, I humbly ask for recommendations and bookmarks!

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Although Feng Xue’s methods were certainly irksome, at this moment even the most seasoned tea connoisseur had no room for resentment—because right now, the unique aroma of black tea, blended perfectly with just the right amount of spices, drifted through the air. Even those who didn’t drink tea found themselves intoxicated by this wondrous fragrance.

With the tea brewed, Feng Xue dropped peeled eggs—each with only a thin inner membrane remaining—into the tea. The white eggs tumbled and floated in the reddish-brown liquid, creating a rhythm all their own.

After about three minutes, he plated the eggs, now steeped to a tea-brown hue. Each person received only one tea egg, but as tea eggs are quite filling, no one found the portion lacking.

Though simple, the tea eggs, especially after Feng Xue’s acrobatic culinary display, drew many to claim a share. The eggs were uniformly brown, thanks to the removal of their shells, and required only a quick peel of the inner membrane before being popped into one’s mouth.

But the moment the first diner tore the membrane away, a gasp rang out—

“There’s a painting on this egg!”

Everyone turned to look. The tender egg white was not evenly stained like the membrane, but instead was layered and diffused, resembling ink wash paintings. Though the patterns depicted nothing concrete, they resembled swirling clouds—sometimes scattered, sometimes clustered, each open to personal interpretation.

Curiosity piqued, diners peeled their own eggs, only to discover that each one bore a unique, layered, tea-colored mist—no two alike.

“These are works of art!” they exclaimed. But ultimately, food is meant to be eaten. The allure of taste triumphed over the reverence for artistry, and one by one, the eggs were consumed.

To allow the tea to fully infuse, the eggs were cooked through—no molten yolks here, but that was hardly a drawback for tea eggs. Since the eggs were cooked directly in the tea rather than steeped post-boil, the flavors melded beautifully without overwhelming the palate. The freshness of the tea shone through, allowing diners to savor the taste of the egg itself.

The spices played only a supporting role, subtly enhancing the signature sweetness of Keemun black tea. With each bite, it felt as if one were experiencing a long tea tasting—flavors transitioning from strong to delicate, bitter to sweet, encapsulating the vicissitudes of life in a single tea egg.

Younger diners simply found it delicious, but those older tasted a depth—a sense of time distilled into flavor, evoking the feeling of reliving an entire lifetime.

Watching the guests relish his creation, Feng Xue couldn’t help but smile. Then, recalling a joke from his past life, he let out a wry chuckle: “Damn, this really is a tea egg only the wealthy could afford!”

Indeed, if one did the math, the cost of this tea egg was shocking—

Top-grade Keemun black tea goes for one to three thousand yuan per gram; let’s take the middle value: two thousand. (Unless otherwise indicated, all prices are in RMB.) Each pair of tea eggs used one gram of tea, and spices like star anise and cinnamon were negligible. Even so, that meant one tea egg cost over a thousand yuan in ingredients alone.

But that’s not all! By industry standards, a dish needs at least a three-hundred-percent markup to be viable (the food service industry is grueling; less than triple the cost is a loss). So, the market price for one egg would be at least three thousand yuan.

And that’s before factoring in the premium of a luxury hotel. (A 500ml bottle of Coke, which wholesales for less than a yuan, costs forty-five yuan at the Shangri-La. I won’t tell you how I know that.) Even being modest, Totsuki Hotel would add at least a tenfold markup. In yen, that means each tea egg would cost five hundred thousand yen!

Five hundred thousand yen for a tea egg—even the wealthy would hesitate! But for those who spend millions just to savor subtle differences in wine (no offense to any connoisseurs out there), perhaps this price is just right.

Fortunately, Feng Xue had asked in advance—the ingredients for this exam were all covered by Totsuki Academy, which is the only reason he dared to use such extravagant materials for a tea egg worth its weight in gold.

In this exam, probably only Alice Nakiri’s molecular gastronomy could rival these costs—molecular cuisine equipment is notoriously expensive, especially since Alice uses research-grade gear.

On the other hand, if the students had to pay for their own ingredient losses, the first to go bankrupt would likely be our original protagonist—Soma Yukihira. After all, I doubt that penniless kid, whose allowance depends on his unreliable father’s whims, could afford to cover the cost of wasted eggs.

……

As the finished tea eggs were served, Feng Xue continued cracking raw eggs with his bare hands, a display that drew a crowd to his station, each eager to sample this lavish tea egg.

Just then, the PA system blared—not an announcement, but a report!

“Congratulations to Station 17 in Area B, Erina Nakiri, the first to complete 200 dishes.”

The moment the broadcast sounded, almost every diner felt an urge to head for Erina’s station. While not everyone acted on the impulse, the sheer number of potential customers made it a formidable force!

Clearly, this announcement doubled as advertising—no accident, but a deliberate strategy to make the strong stronger and the weak weaker. Truly the Totsuki way!

Of course, Erina’s strength was undeniable. It was only six thirty—just half an hour into the test.

Feng Xue tallied his own count. Only a bit over one hundred.

Tea eggs, unlike pastries, couldn’t be mass-produced. Each batch had to be carefully timed to ensure every customer received their egg at its peak.

Even with staggered timing and three large pots on the go, Feng Xue could only maintain a pace of five eggs per minute.

He couldn’t increase that output; his method wasn’t traditional—he infused raw eggs directly in the tea, allowing the flavor to penetrate deeply, but risking over-infusion. To guarantee each egg was perfectly flavored, he had to control them using Ripple energy. With his current mastery, he could only handle fifteen eggs at a time.

After another ten minutes or so, Feng Xue finally “sold” his two-hundredth tea egg, and the PA blared again—“Congratulations to Station 13 in Area D, Feng Xue, for completing 200 dishes.”

But Feng Xue didn’t relax. He knew this announcement meant not only that he’d passed, but that even more diners would flock to his station. Nevertheless, he had no intention of stopping. As the saying goes, what kind of chef can’t even satisfy their guests’ appetites?

It was now six forty-five—fifteen minutes since Erina passed the threshold.

At that point, the other outstanding students began to complete their goals in quick succession—

“Congratulations to Station 6 in Area A, Takumi Aldini, for completing 200 dishes…”

“Congratulations to Station 19 in Area C, Alice Nakiri, for completing 200 dishes…”

“Congratulations to Station 4 in Area A, Akira Hayama, for completing 200 dishes…”

“Congratulations to Station 7 in Area B, Subaru Mimasaka, for completing 200 dishes!”

By then, virtually all the top eight candidates in the Autumn Selection had finished. Only Megumi and Hisako remained, each with around one hundred fifty dishes, and Soma Yukihira, the last-minute king, was still racking his brain for a solution.

Feng Xue had no time to pay attention to the others—his own line of diners was only growing longer.

He soon realized his pace was slowing, not from fatigue but because he’d run out of prepped ingredients. He now had to mix spices and brew tea on the fly, striving to maintain a steady supply. Luckily, with three pots at his disposal, he managed to avoid a shortage.

Two hours of intense work flew by, the end arriving almost as soon as it began.

Soma Yukihira, as ever, finished with eight seconds to spare, and Erina sold more than four hundred breakfasts.

At Feng Xue’s station, there were a full three hundred eighty-two plates—making him second in this assessment, surpassing even Alice Nakiri!

A promising omen.

With that thought, Feng Xue tidied up, intent on catching up on some sleep in his room.

Though blessed with gourmet cells and trained in body-strengthening techniques, he was still only at the Exceptional level, his body still fundamentally human. Going without sleep was wishful thinking…