Gardener of Eden

Chapter 173: Chapter 173: Connections

As the mouthwatering aroma of pristine, vitalized dishes continued to drift across the grand atrium, Chef Julian stepped out to the front of his station carrying a sleek, freshly polished plaque. With a proud, beaming smile, he set it squarely in the center of the L’Étoile D’Or counter where every passing sovereign, elder, and prodigy could see it clearly:

[All ingredients sourced naturally through Eden International]

The impact across the hall was immediate.

Whispers erupted down the snaking queue as international delegates, guild leaders, and renowned global critics took notice. Up until that moment, many foreign guests had assumed L’Étoile D’Or’s astounding culinary magic was purely a secret, closely guarded technique of elite French high cuisine.

Now, the truth stood in plain view: the real foundation behind the three-star Michelin powerhouse was the uncorrupted, living produce supplied directly by Eden International.

Across the pavilion, Gabriel Bernard stared in stunned disbelief as his fellow countryman openly credited an Imperial brand over traditional French luxury suppliers. Meanwhile, Tian Yu’s sharp eyes fixated on the sign, his mind calculating the sheer, unforced vitality radiating from every dish leaving Julian’s counter.

Jeremy looked from the sign back to the overflowing crowd, shaking his head with a wide, impressed grin. ”Look at that, brother. Before the tournament trials have even officially kicked off, you’ve turned the entire global opening luncheon into a massive showcase for Eden International.”

”Chef Julian recognizes true quality, and he knows where it comes from,” Rowan replied smoothly, adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat with a quiet, confident smirk.

By the time the three-hour luncheon drew to a close, L’Étoile D’Or had served hundreds of high-ranking guests, completely exhausting every single batch of produce Rowan had supplied. Chef Julian walked away as the undisputed culinary star of the afternoon, while Eden International cemented its name as the premier botanical entity on the global stage.

***

High above the grand atrium, inside the sound-shielded glass sanctuary reserved strictly for heads of state, sovereign leaders, and high ministers, Emperor Aurelius’s rich, booming laughter echoed off the marble walls.

Holding a crystal goblet in one hand, the Emperor stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the massive queue snaking around Chef Julian’s L’Étoile D’Or station. Sitting at the mahogany dining table behind him were grim-faced delegates from the French Frontier, senior ministers from the Ding Dynasty, and trade ambassadors from the surrounding global powers.

”It seems Julian’s station is quite popular today, Minister,” Aurelius chuckled heartily, taking a slow sip of wine. ”Though, if I am not mistaken, the real star of the afternoon isn’t French culinary technique—it’s the produce bearing the crest of my empire.”

The foreign delegates shifted uncomfortably in their plush leather chairs. From their elevated vantage point, the illuminated plaque displayed prominently at Julian’s counter—[All ingredients sourced naturally through Eden International]—glowed like a beacon for the entire world to see.

The French trade minister cleared his throat, his expression tight as he stared down at his plate. For years, the French Frontier had dominated the global luxury food market with their coveted truffles and elite botanical reserves, using that monopoly to squeeze favorable trade concessions out of neighboring realms during economic summits.

Now, in a single afternoon on neutral Swiss ground, a teenager from Sol-Aethel had completely upended that balance of power.

The representative from the Ding Dynasty narrowed his eyes, swirling his tea in silence. The Dynasty’s ancestral herbs and high-mountain produce had always been touted as the gold standard of elemental purity.

Yet, watching their own young prodigies eagerly lining up down below to purchase dishes made from Eden International’s uncorrupted crops was a blow no amount of diplomatic spin could cover.

Aurelius turned back toward the table, his golden eyes gleaming with sharp, calculating satisfaction.

He knew precisely what this moment represented. Rowan hadn’t just supplied a catering station; he had handed the Empire an absolute, undeniable trump card. In the upcoming trade talks, agricultural tariffs, and international resource pacts following the tournament, foreign powers would be forced to negotiate with Sol-Aethel from a position of weakness.

If they wanted access to the world’s only uncorrupted, vitality-rich produce capable of nourishing high-tier cores without leaving elemental slag behind, they would have to play by the Empire’s rules.

”Gentlemen,” Aurelius said warmly, taking his seat at the head of the table with an expansive, sovereign smile. ”Let us toast to the upcoming trials... and to future trade agreements that will no doubt prove exceedingly fruitful for us all.”

***

As the last plate of Eden-sourced culinary brilliance left Chef Julian’s counter, a collective sigh of disappointment echoed from those still standing near the back of the line. With L’Étoile D’Or officially wiped clean of its pristine stock, the lingering crowd finally began to disperse, trickling off toward the other high-end catering counters scattered across the Grand Pavilion.

Free from the commotion surrounding Julian’s station, Rowan took the opportunity to wander through the vast atrium at his own leisurely pace. Tipping the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, he strolled past the obsidian carving stations and silver-lit buffet islands representing various distant sovereign realms, city-states, and maritime federations.

With Jeremy beside him, Rowan sampled a wide array of international delicacies:

Northern Wilds Station: Slow-roasted elemental game rubbed with pine-needle ash, wild berry drippings, and smoke-dried mountain pepper, imparting a rugged, fireside warmth.

Eastern Archipelago Counter: Delicate, multi-layered fermented spirit-grain pastries glazed with lotus nectar and dusted with crushed floral pollen.

Coastal Federation Pavilion: Paper-thin sea-bream carpaccio dressed in citrus-seaweed reductions and cured deep-sea kelp salt, bursting with sharp, oceanic umami.

Through his refined mana perception, Rowan could clearly feel the underlying limitations of the dishes. Even the finest foreign ingredients bore the faint, gritty traces of atmospheric mana pollution, mineral forcing, or soil toxicity that no amount of three-star Michelin technique could completely erase.

Yet, from a purely culinary perspective, the experience was an eye-opener.

Seeing how foreign master chefs utilized ancient smoking techniques, intricate spice blendings, precision aging, and unexpected flavor pairings gave Rowan a whole new appreciation for the art of food.

While his domain produced the absolute purest foundation of life force on the planet, seeing how different cultures transformed their crops into unique regional experiences sparked fresh ideas in his mind.

”Not a bad spread once you get past the subtle mana slag,” Jeremy remarked quietly, wiping his mouth with a napkin as they finished a plate of spiced coastal skewers.

”The ingredients might be flawed, but the craft behind them is genuine,” Rowan replied with a thoughtful smile, adjusting his straw hat. ”Pure vitality is the foundation, but technique is what gives it soul. It’s definitely giving me a few ideas for what we can do back home.”

With the three-hour luncheon drawing to its natural close, the ambient lighting in the Grand Pavilion began to shift, signaling that the opening ceremonies and the initial botanical trials were about to begin.

***

Back behind the swinging double doors of the L’Étoile D’Or kitchen, the frantic energy of service finally collapsed into pure, unbridled celebration.

The loud, satisfying POP of a vintage champagne cork echoed off the stainless steel countertops, followed by the clinking of delicate crystal flutes. Chef Julian stood at the center of the pass, surrounded by his exhausted yet beaming brigade of sous-chefs, line cooks, and prep staff.

”To history, my friends!” Julian raised his flute, his eyes bright with victory. ”We didn’t just feed the global elite today—we redefined what world-class dining looks like on the international stage!”

”To L’Étoile D’Or!” the kitchen staff cheered in unison, taking deep, celebratory gulps of cold, sparkling champagne.

Assigned team members quickly brought out silver platters laden with warm, golden blinis. Each delicate pancake was topped with a dollop of silky crème fraîche and a generous, glistening mound of high-grade beluga caviar. The staff eagerly dug in, pairing the rich, salty luxury of the caviar with chilled flutes of bubbly, relishing the moment.

”In twenty years of running three-star kitchens, I have never seen a queue like that,” Julian laughed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he enjoyed a blini. ”Sovereigns, ancient elders, and foreign prodigies practically begging for another plate! Every food critic in that hall will be writing about us for the next decade!”

”And we owe half of it to that young Imperial farmer,” a senior sous-chef added, nodding toward the front of the house where Rowan’s sign was still prominently displayed. ”Those Eden International crops were an absolute dream to work with—zero impurities, perfect texture, and pure life force in every bite.”

”A toast, then!” Julian held his champagne flute high once more, a grateful smile on his face. ”To young Rowan Vance, to Eden International, and to the finest afternoon this kitchen has ever seen!”

As the staff clinked their glasses together in agreement, the back kitchen hummed with proud laughter and triumph, while out in the grand hall, the chiming of the main cathedral bells signaled that the official botanical trials were finally about to commence.