Quick Transmigration: Not My Story

Chapter 2 The Cook Mistress（part 1）

Lin Dan was feeling a little dazed. Instinctively, she called out to the system in her mind—only to freeze in confusion. What was the system?

She held a ladle in her hand, the spoon filled with a thin layer of milky-white soup that gave off a rich, savory aroma. A faint aftertaste lingered in her mouth, suggesting that she had just taken a sip. But the real issue was—

Lin Dan had no idea who she was, what she was doing, or why she had suddenly appeared here.

She stared at her own small, calloused hands, feeling as though they belonged to her yet, at the same time, didn’t. She was standing here, yet it felt as though she didn’t belong—as if she were an outsider who had abruptly barged into a foreign world, completely out of place. She couldn’t even grasp the current situation.

However, the people around her didn’t notice the change. One of them pointed at a dish placed in front of her and commented, “It’s still missing something.” But exactly what was missing, he couldn’t say—after all, he wasn’t a professional chef, just someone with a sharper palate than most.

Lin Dan snapped out of her daze at his words. Lifting her head, she finally noticed the speaker—a young man dressed in luxurious silk robes. He was slender, fair-skinned, and had delicate features. If he didn’t speak, he could easily be mistaken for a girl. Like Lin Dan, he also held a ladle and was tasting the dish before him, his brows slightly furrowed in a serious expression.

“It does lack a bit of refinement,” another voice said slowly.

Lin Dan turned to look and saw that the speaker was an elderly man with a white beard. He was smacking his lips repeatedly, seemingly analyzing the aftertaste of the soup.

She quickly shifted her gaze to observe her surroundings. Though she was utterly confused internally, she didn’t let any of it show on her face. She appeared calm and composed, as if handling sudden situations like this was second nature to her.

“What do you mean it lacks refinement? I think they taste pretty much the same—there’s no difference at all,” a middle-aged man said with a stern expression. He wore a robe embroidered with auspicious clouds and a blue qilin, suggesting his high status. As soon as he spoke, the people around him nodded in agreement, their smiles tinged with flattery.

But Lin Dan didn’t focus on him. Instead, she turned her attention to the side, where a young girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, stood about seven or eight meters away. In front of her was a similar square table, with an identical dish placed upon it. Judging by its color, aroma, and presentation, it seemed almost indistinguishable from the dish before Lin Dan.

Taking into account the environment, the people, and their conversation, Lin Dan quickly pieced things together—she was apparently engaged in a cooking competition with this girl.

The young girl smiled slightly at the remarks from the young man and the elderly gentleman. However, when she saw that the middle-aged man wasn’t supporting her, she immediately furrowed her brows, looking somewhat stubborn. “Please, Marquis, try it again carefully.”

Marquis? Lin Dan, who was trying to gather as much information as possible, quickly glanced at the middle-aged man.

Just as he was about to speak, the young man in silk robes grew impatient and said, “If you can’t even tell whether your own dish is good or bad, what are you doing working in a kitchen?” His sharp black-and-white eyes were fixed directly on Lin Dan, making it clear that his words were directed at her. The young girl, upon hearing this, beamed with joy, lowering her head with a shy smile.

The previous Lin Dan had already tasted her own dish but hadn’t admitted defeat—not out of stubbornness, but simply because she couldn’t tell what was lacking. However, the young man had clearly decided that she had lost, and he was displeased by her lack of reaction.

Now that she had figured out the situation, Lin Dan knew she didn’t need to remain passive. She should act as a normal person would and play her role properly. So, she took another sip of her soup, silently analyzing its taste, then walked over to the young girl’s table and scooped a spoonful of her dish as well.

Both dishes were Crab Roe Chicken Purée with Cabbage Hearts—on the surface, just a few simple pieces of cooked cabbage leaves, but in reality, a dish that required exceptional skill to perfect. Such was the nature of culinary arts—the simpler the dish, the harder it was to master.

Initially, Lin Dan had planned to take just a couple of bites and then concede the match. That way, she could quickly extract herself from this situation and find a quiet place to process the sudden change. However, the moment she tasted the two dishes, her taste buds and brain instinctively provided a judgment.

It was then that she realized—with great surprise—that her sense of taste was far sharper than normal. Even the slightest differences in flavor were magnified several times on her tongue. And this, coincidentally, was precisely what the previous Lin Dan had lacked.

"I lost." She put down the spoon and spoke sincerely. "My cabbage hearts turned out slightly bitter."

This kind of bitterness was almost imperceptible to ordinary people, only discernible to those with exceptionally keen taste buds.

The white-bearded old man gave her a deep look and offered his insight, "That’s exactly it. When you thickened the sauce, you didn’t wait for the cabbage hearts to fully cook through. This prolonged the starch’s heating time, causing slight scorching and bitterness, and making the texture less smooth. The essence of Crab Roe Chicken Purée with Cabbage Hearts lies in two words—fresh and silky. Your dish looks the part, but it falls short in taste."

Lin Dan nodded and repeated, "I lost."

Seeing her calm and composed demeanor, without a trace of resentment from defeat, the old man finally gave a slight nod of approval. The middle-aged man let out a long, sorrowful sigh, while a woman standing behind him clutched her chest and suddenly collapsed, startling everyone.

"Not good! Madam Qi has fainted! Lin Dan, come quickly and check on your mother!"

Two women rushed forward to support the unconscious woman while urgently beckoning Lin Dan over.

Swiftly piecing together the information from their words, Lin Dan didn’t hesitate—she hurried over and called out, "Please, someone fetch a doctor! I’ll take my mother home first."

With that, she naturally took over from one of the women and helped support Madam Qi. The freed-up woman didn’t notice anything unusual and quickly led the way, bringing Lin Dan back to what was apparently her own home.

After a flurry of activity, the doctor finally arrived. He diagnosed the woman’s condition as nothing serious—just a fainting spell brought on by excessive worry. Some calming herbal medicine would do the trick.

Lin Dan accepted the prescription and removed a silver hairpin from her head to pay for the consultation. She had no idea where the woman kept her money, and even if she did, the money box was likely locked. Since Madam Qi was unconscious and couldn’t be asked for the key, this was the only option.

The doctor glanced at her with sympathy and gently said, "The marquis has already covered the fee. Keep your hairpin. As for the prescription, I’ll have a servant from the marquis’s residence fetch the medicine for you. Your mother needs someone by her side now. Ah..."

Watching the doctor sigh and shake his head as he slowly walked away, Lin Dan realized that the earlier culinary duel must have been of great significance to her. Otherwise, why would everyone regard her with such sympathy?

Why would her mother collapse upon hearing of her loss?

But a loss was a loss—an undeniable fact. Lin Dan felt no regret for her actions.

Seeing the woman drenched in cold sweat, she picked up a copper basin to fetch water. Just as she stepped outside, a boy of sixteen or seventeen entered quietly. "Lin Dan, I’ve already collected the medicine for you. Use one packet per dose with three bowls of water, boil it down to one bowl, and don’t discard the leftover dregs—you can brew them twice more. Three doses a day, for seven days, should do."

Lin Dan quickly expressed her gratitude. After sending the boy off, she went to the kitchen to prepare the medicine. Whether it was chopping firewood, lighting the stove, or fetching water, her body instinctively knew what to do.

The herbal concoction soon boiled, bubbling away. Lin Dan reduced the fire, switched to a gentle simmer, then pulled over a small stool and sat by the stove, sorting through her memories.

She seemed to be used to doing this, so the process was quick.

Her father, Lin Baotian, had been the head chef of the Yongding Marquis Manor. The marquis was a connoisseur of fine food, extremely particular about cuisine, and held Lin Baotian in high regard—so much so that he even brought him along on military campaigns. Lin Baotian’s status was evident, and because of it, Lin Dan and

Madam Qi had lived comfortably within the manor. They had their own private courtyard, as well as servants to attend to them.

But two months ago, Lin Baotian had suddenly died of illness. In his final moments, he passed down his lifetime of culinary skills and his treasured chef’s knife to his only daughter, Lin Dan.

From a young age, Lin Dan had admired the young marquis, and he, like his father, was a lover of fine cuisine. She had thus devoted herself to mastering the culinary arts, hoping to catch his eye with her cooking.

After her father’s death, she inherited his position and continued working as the manor’s head chef. Though only twelve or thirteen years old, her skills were already well-honed.

One day, she prepared a dish she had painstakingly practiced—Braised Green Onion Sea Cucumber—only to hear the young marquis remark that it was far inferior to one made by a mere servant girl in his courtyard.

Proud and competitive by nature, Lin Dan immediately sought out the girl for a cooking duel. But she hadn’t expected the girl to reveal a shocking truth: Lin Baotian’s culinary skills and golden chef’s knife were stolen from her own grandfather. Lin Baotian wasn’t a true inheritor of the Imperial Golden Knife Chef lineage—he was a traitor who had betrayed his master.

The servant girl, Yan Langqing, was the granddaughter of Yan Bo, a renowned chef from the previous dynasty. After retiring from the palace, Yan Bo had taken on several apprentices, one of whom was Lin Baotian.

But when Yan Bo fell gravely ill and passed away, Yan Langqing’s father was traveling and couldn’t return in time to bid him farewell. Lin Baotian, who had overseen the burial, took the opportunity to steal the emperor-bestowed golden knife and the Yan family recipe book before disappearing.

Yan Langqing’s father had spent years searching for him, and eventually, they tracked him down at the Yongding Marquis Manor—only to find that he had already passed away. So, Yan Langqing infiltrated the manor, waiting for the right moment to challenge Lin Dan.

The stakes? The golden knife and the Yan family recipe book.

Lin Dan, unwilling to lose face in front of the young marquis and determined to defend her father’s reputation, had immediately accepted the challenge.

And then… she lost.

And after that, she had become this Lin Dan.

The handsome young judge from earlier was the young marquis. The middle-aged man who had tried to defend her despite knowing she was outmatched was the old marquis.

Though they shared the same name, Lin Dan could clearly sense that she was entirely different from the former Lin Dan.

The former Lin Dan had been wholly devoted to the young marquis—his smile could make her heart soar, his frown could throw her into turmoil.

But now? She felt nothing. Thinking of him was like recalling a stranger.

Her current priority was no longer questioning her identity or memories, but rather deciding what to do next.

She had lost the competition. Her mother was frail and needed care. What should she do now?