Mythical Qin: I, Gao Yao, will never be a eunuch!

Chapter 1127 Fan Xian: Am I not the only transmigrator?

"Mmm...delicious, just the right taste!" He let out a long sigh, as if he had just experienced a spiritual cleansing. "Brother, you have to try it, this fish is absolutely amazing!"

Fan Xian shook his head helplessly, picked up his chopsticks, and casually put a piece of stir-fried pork kidney into his mouth.

At first, he chewed casually, but after only two or three chews, Fan Xian suddenly froze.

That taste—

The pork kidneys were tender and springy, cooked to perfection, but that wasn't the main point. The key was the complex, layered flavor: a savory taste with a hint of sweetness, a stimulating yet not overpowering spiciness, and an indescribable umami that exploded on the tongue, continuously stimulating the taste buds.

This is definitely not a flavor that can be achieved with just salt and oil.

Fan Xian quickly picked up a piece of cold shredded vegetables with his chopsticks. The crisp vegetables broke between his teeth, and in the tangy and appetizing juice, he could clearly taste the richness of soy sauce, the tanginess of vinegar, and... the unique, pure umami flavor of MSG.

His heart suddenly started racing.

Soy sauce. MSG.

These two seasonings should not even exist in this world. Although the food culture of the Qing Kingdom is advanced, its seasonings are still at the basic stage of salt, sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar. Even the imperial cuisine could never have such refined soy sauce and purified MSG.

Fan Xian slowly put down his chopsticks, his movements very light, but his knuckles were already slightly white. He raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the entire second floor, over the dishes on every table, over the diners who were eating with relish, and over the minimalist, almost austere, decorations on the walls.

This is no coincidence.

This could not possibly be a coincidence.

"Brother, look at you, I told you, this food is delicious, look, you even stood up..." Versace's voice came from the side, tinged with satisfaction.

Fan Xian suddenly stood up, the movement so forceful that the chair scraped against the floor with a screeching sound. Several other guests at the surrounding tables cast surprised glances at him.

"Hey hey hey... Fan Xian, why are you running? You can't just wander around like this!" Fan Sizhe's voice suddenly rose, filled with panic.

But Fan Xian couldn't hear anymore. Only one thought occupied his mind: the kitchen. He had to go to the kitchen. There must be something there, something that could explain everything.

He pushed back his chair and strode downstairs, completely ignoring Versace's calls. His footsteps pounded on the stairs, drawing the attention of the diners on the first floor, and several waiters also looked up alertly.

Fan Xian's goal was clear—the door at the back of the hall with the wooden sign that read "Kitchen Area, No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed".

Just as he was about to touch the curtain, two waiters who had been serving at the next table appeared like ghosts beside him, pressing down on his shoulders from both sides.

"Sir, the kitchen is behind here, and it's very smoky." The waiter on the left still had a professional smile on his face, but the strength in his hands was undeniable. "If you need to use the restroom, turn left in the backyard."

Fan Xian's heart skipped a beat. The speed and precision with which these two attacked were extraordinary. He tried to break free, only to find that his strength as a seventh-grade martial artist was completely undisturbed under their control.

"I just want to see your kitchen," Fan Xian said in a deep voice, while secretly channeling his inner energy to try and shake off the two men's hands.

The servant on the right frowned almost imperceptibly, and suddenly increased the pressure on his hands. Fan Xian felt a weight on his shoulders, as if two huge rocks were pressing down on them, and his true energy was forcibly forced back into his body.

Rank 6. At least a rank 6 martial artist.

Fan Xian was filled with shock and disbelief. Using a sixth-rank martial artist as a waiter? The background of the Gao family restaurant was probably unfathomable.

"Sir, you flatter us. The kitchen is a private area of ​​the restaurant and is not open to the public." The waiter on the left still smiled, but his eyes had turned cold. "Please return to your seat and enjoy your meal. Please do not make things difficult for us servants."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." Fan Sizhe caught up breathlessly, grabbed Fan Xian's arm, and pulled him back forcefully. "Fan Xian, what are you doing? Come here, come here..."

Fan Xian was dragged away from the kitchen doorway by Fan Sizhe. Upon seeing this, the two servants released their grip, nodded slightly to Fan Xian, and then returned to their work as if nothing had happened.

But Fan Xian could sense that at least four or five pairs of eyes were secretly watching him.

"What are you doing!" Fan Sizhe pulled Fan Xian to a corner of the hall, lowered his voice, and said with lingering fear, "Are you looking for death? Do you know who's behind this Gao's Restaurant?"

"Who?" Fan Xian took a deep breath, trying to calm the shock in his heart.

Fan Sizhe looked around, then leaned close to Fan Xian's ear and whispered in barely audible breath, "This is a property protected by the Eldest Princess! If you cause trouble here, isn't that the same as slapping the Eldest Princess in the face?"

Princess Li Yunrui.

Fan Xian's pupils contracted slightly. It was her again. The woman who stirred up trouble in the power struggles of Kyoto, the royal family member with an ambiguous relationship with the Crown Prince, the mysterious figure who always seemed to be watching him from the shadows.

Since arriving in the capital, one open and covert attack after another against him seems to have the shadow of this princess behind it all. Teng Zijing's death, the assassination attempt on Niulan Street, and even those earlier, subtle probing attempts... Now, this strangely modern restaurant is also her property?

“Yes, my brother,” Versace’s voice trembled with tears, “please don’t cause trouble here. There are quite a few high-ranking officials and dignitaries who come here to eat. If anything goes wrong, you’ll be in deep trouble! I heard that last month some hothead from the Censorate tried to investigate the accounts here, and he was demoted to Lingnan the next day…”

As he muttered to himself, Fan Sizhe roughly dragged Fan Xian back upstairs. The surrounding guests had resumed their meals, and the occasional glances cast at them now carried a hint of amusement.

Back at his seat, the four dishes were still steaming hot and fragrant. But Fan Xian had no appetite for them. His gaze lingered on the dishes, his mind racing.

Time travelers. I'm not the only one.

Once this thought took hold, it grew wildly like weeds. The letter left by Ye Qingmei, the unique craftsmanship of the inner treasury, Uncle Wuzhu's inhuman abilities, and the dishes and decor with obvious modern traces before him... all of these things, when put together, point to a chilling possibility: in this world, he may not be the only person from his era.

The eldest princess was either one of them, or... at least had close contact with such people.

Fan Xian picked up his chopsticks again and took a piece of crystal pork knuckle. The skin was translucent, the meat tender and melted in his mouth. He savored it carefully, confirming once again the presence of those modern seasonings—not only pasta, but possibly a small amount of cooking wine, and even traces of some compound spices.