God of Cookery: Starting from a Night Market Breakfast Stall

The day Zhou Yuan was laid off, a grumpy culinary god system appeared in his mind. The system's rules were quirky: breakfast had to be sold at night, barbecue in the morning, and buns only at dawn; limited quantities, no reservations, no price hikes, and extra portions for those who cried. The whole night market thought he was a fool, until people started lining up at 2 AM just to grab his fried dough sticks. He dared to sell skewers to the rich for 180 yuan, and tycoons still flocked to his stall; at the hospital entrance, his patient meal boxes cost only two yuan, with clear soup and tofu pudding for those who couldn't swallow. When asked why, he said: 'A chef feeds people, not wallets.' But trouble followed. The catering giant Zhenshen Group targeted him—supply cuts, price wars, hospital bans—all legal, all deadly. Even more absurdly, Zhenshen's leader Qin Zheng stood before his stall and said, 'Junior brother, how much of the master's legacy have you obtained?' It turned out the system had an owner sixty years ago, and his quirky rules matched his mother's notebook word for word. Cooking duels, sect grudges, midnight soy milk and fried dough sticks, a bowl of hot soup in a hospital ward—a street vendor, with a wok, fights against capital, and feeds a whole street along the way. — Description from novelcodex.org