Two days had passed, and the preliminaries had completely closed; only three days remained before the official competition would begin.
While Feng Xue was in the process of replacing his entry dish for the competition, his phone suddenly rang.
"Hello? May I know who's calling?"
"We're from the Dragon Gate Pastry Contest committee. Are you contestant Sun Wukong?" A strange voice came through the phone. Feng Xue's brow furrowed slightly; his first thought was that it was a scam, but after recalling the official website of the competition, he remembered this number and replied,
"What's the matter?"
"Well, the materials for the Dragon Gate Pastry Contest are provided by the organizers. Therefore, if there is any special material you require, please report them in advance. Of course, there's a limit on ingredients that each contestant can request, and materials from protected animals are not allowed…"
