The smell of garlic shrimp still hung in the cafeteria air when Lee Wonho waddled into the kitchen with his usual smug grin, rubbing his hands like a man about to discover gold in his backyard.
"Uncle Wang," he said, eyeing the stacks of trays, "how's my little experiment?"
Chef Wu Yi sighed, wiping his hands on his apron, and pointed at two giant cardboard boxes stacked in the corner.
"Thirty-two lunch boxes of dishes. Two meat dishes in each. Thirty-eight boxes of rice. Just like you asked."
Lee Wonho crouched, popped open a box, and steam billowed out—braised pork and shrimp practically shining like a food commercial. He cracked open the rice, white and fluffy, stuffed to the lid.
He smacked his lips. "Quality inspection: perfect. Tonight, we turn leftovers into profit."
Wu Yi frowned. "Profit? These are scraps."
