Just as Meng Biao was pondering, he felt that if you want to slice this block of beef into a whole thin piece, the rolling knife method is more efficient than the flipping method.

He turned his head to look, found a stool from the countertop, placed it directly in front of the cutting board, and then found a plate to place on the stool.

Chen Mo watched carefully from the side.

Uncle Biao pressed the meat firmly with his left hand, held a knife with his right hand, and started slicing from the right to the left, close to the cutting board.

As the knife reached the turning point, his left hand slowly rolled the meat over, allowing his right hand to continue slicing. The thin meat slices began to droop from the edge of the cutting board and as Meng Biao rolled the meat faster, the slices caught on the plate became thicker.

The piece of tenderloin soon transformed from a thick cuboid into a thin, rectangular strip. Finally, when he could slice no more, Meng Biao made the last cut.

"Amazing," said Chen Mo as he picked up the plate. After trimming the edges, he divided the tenderloin into four pieces; this plate of meat slices weighed about four pounds!

In the process of slicing, there were no cracks at all, not even a single puncture or tear. To achieve this effect, the hand must be steady; it's hard to master without at least a decade of practice.

Seeing Chen Mo so astonished, Meng Biao felt even prouder.

Chen Mo said happily, "Uncle Biao, since you sliced it so well, I'll leave the rest of the meat to you!"

Meng Biao: ???

"Brother Lu went to buy more meat. We plan to prepare four or five hundred pounds of beef today, so I'll have to trouble you!"

Chen Mo didn't seem to be joking, as he was already inspecting the plate carefully. Meng Biao opened his mouth to speak, but Chen Mo was too busy to give him a chance.

"No... I was just performing, demonstrating. I didn't say I would..."

Damn!

Meng Biao was dumbfounded. No matter how skilled he was at slicing, he couldn't cut four or five hundred pounds of beef, right? Isn't this treating people like machines?

Chen Mo heated up a large blackened pot, added a lot of fine salt, and started to stir-fry it. After the salt was cooked, he packed it in cloth bags and used a rolling pin to grind it repeatedly until it was almost powdery.

Then, Chen Mo slowly lifted the whole sheet of sliced beef that Uncle Biao had prepared. Every time he placed a meter-long piece on the cutting board, he cut it with a knife.

He laid them out flat on the cutting board. For each piece laid, he evenly sprinkled a layer of salt powder from a spice box over it, then rolled the meat into a cylindrical shape.

Since Chen Mo occupied the food cart, Uncle Biao had to sulkily run to the cleaned shop by himself to slowly slice the beef.

He imagined each piece of beef as Chen Mo, "Such a young man dares to fool an old guy like me. I'll show you! I'll show you!"

After about ten pounds of meat was rolled up, Lu the Second finally returned.

"Everything's bought. How's it going?"

Without raising his head, Chen Mo said, "Bamboo sieve."

Lu the Second quickly put the dozen bamboo sieves he bought onto the food cart's counter. Chen Mo then placed the rolled-up meat cylinders one by one in order.

"Put these in the room at the back. They mustn't be exposed to the sun."

It was fine inside, as no sunlight would come in all day. Lu Yingqiu and the others helped carry the bamboo sieves placed by Chen Mo into the room, setting them on the tables one by one.

"By the way, how many degrees is it in the room now?"

Lu the Second took out the thermometer he had bought and hung it in the room. After waiting a moment for it to stabilize, he said, "35 degrees!"

Chen Mo thought for a moment; this temperature would suffice.

Fortunately, it's summer. If it were autumn or winter, the temperature wouldn't be enough, and time would be tight. In a 35-degree environment, the meat rolls only need to be aired for about 14 hours.

After asking the question, Chen Mo specifically instructed Lu Yingqiu to attach sticky notes on each bamboo sieve to record the start time of the airing.

With over four hundred pounds of beef, the timeline for the process was stretched out. It's likely that there will be a long gap between the first and last batch. Without time records, mixed-up sequences could be disastrous.

Uncle Biao sliced the meat inside, Chen Mo salted and rolled it outside, while Boss Lu shuttled between Hanyang and the slaughterhouse, buying meat.

Someone asked him why he didn't drive over.

Boss Lu said that the slaughterhouse is actually owned by an individual, with livestock raised on the mountains, and there's no road for cars. Other people from nearby towns also walk there to carry the meat back on their shoulders.

The three judges, on the other hand, had become idle. Jia Zhijun stood in front of the food cart, continuously watching Chen Mo making beef, and asked curiously, "I've eaten Lantern Shadow Beef before and seen others make it. Most follow the method Lu the Second mentioned. How is yours different?"

The method used at Lu the Second's restaurant is relatively simple, mostly relying on modern technology.

After slicing the meat and marinating for flavor, it's dried in a dehydrator, then roasted in an oven to achieve the basic taste and texture of Lantern Shadow Beef.

Chen Mo said, "This is called traditional method production, incomparable to modern technology. The drying in restaurants equates to our current air drying. While the moisture evaporates, the salt flavor doesn't penetrate, thus reducing the beef's intrinsic taste."

In fact, this step is somewhat similar to the principle of Inner Mongolian air-dried beef. If dehydrators were that efficient, people on the grasslands would just buy a bunch and throw the beef in.

Why go through the hassle of rubbing salt and air-drying the meat?

Jia Zhijun thought Chen Mo made sense, albeit not entirely convincing. He wondered if a little extra time really made such a big flavor difference.

Of course, he didn't voice this thought, because making braised pork had already taught him a lesson: celebrating prematurely is a recipe for failure!

With such repetitive work, everyone stayed busy until dusk and didn't finish everything until after 9 p.m.

They were all pretty exhausted.

Lu the Second stretched his back and arms, saying, "How about I drive us to the city for a bite?"

No one said anything, but they all looked at Chen Mo as if he was in charge.

"I think we should skip it. The first batch of beef will be almost ready by 3 a.m., and we'll have to get up for the next steps. If we go out for a meal, it'll be late when we get back."

Boss Lu nodded, "You're right, Younger Brother Chen. How about we head next door, and I'll whip up a simple dinner for everyone, just to get by today?"

That's a good suggestion.

However, Chen Mo shook his head, "You guys go ahead and eat. I need to head back to feed the cat."

With that, Chen Mo started walking out of town, ignoring Boss Lu's insistence that he spend the night at his place.

"Dad, don't worry. Brother Xiao Chen can sleep in the truck's cab; it's spacious inside and comfortable to sleep in."

Boss Lu nodded, then turned to his daughter with a puzzled look.

"How do you know?"

It's not just that you know it's big and spacious.

How do you know it's comfortable to sleep in?

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