"What? Are you suggesting my knife skills are subpar?" The originally amiable Zhang Jiuling's face darkened with anger. As a young man, he couldn't suppress his temper.
He was the heir to the Imperial Kitchen. He had grown up studying the cookbooks of Zhang Dongguan, and even his own father claimed his culinary talent was one of the finest in the world. He usually spent his time womanizing; otherwise, he believed his skills would have already earned him global fame.
He seldom even touched a kitchen knife. Today, he had personally sliced a roast duck, yet this man before him showed him no respect at all.
"Senior Brother, don't be angry. It's not worth it," the others from the Imperial Kitchen advised Zhang Jiuling.
Zhang Jiuling snorted. "Fine. Out of respect for my junior brothers, we'll consider this matter settled."
Wu Tian, with his hands clasped behind his back, calmly said, "Here, I am in charge."
What? You're in charge?
