What, what is he doing?
Zhu Qing voiced the question on behalf of the old man, Lan Chuhai, and Lan Fengxian.
Xia Yu didn't chop the chicken, but instead picked a piece of chicken tail meat left aside earlier, placed it on the cutting board, his gaze sharp, wielding a thin and light slicing knife, slashing rapidly like a shimmering galaxy.
Strips of chicken threads floated away lightly.
About seven or eight seconds passed, Xia Yu exhaled, and his storm-like knife technique abruptly halted, transitioning from motion to stillness as he stood at the kitchen counter, staring at the spread-out threads before him.
"It's really different now..."
Xia Yu was surprised, his hand gripping the knife handle, loosening and tightening repeatedly.
Based on experience, he felt he should test the knife before officially starting, since who knew what unpredictable effects the greatly enhanced "Divine Hand" might have on his cooking process?
Sure enough.
