When the chef heard He Lang had arrived, he hurried out. The first thing he saw was He Lang holding a pair of chopsticks, picking up a piece of meat from a serving pan.
Upon seeing this, the chef visibly panicked.
"Mr.—Mr. He, what brings you here?"
He Lang stared at him, chewing the meat in his mouth with an impassive expression. It was so salty he couldn't swallow it and ended up spitting it into a trash can.
"This meat... Would someone care to explain this to me?"
The chef stammered, "Mr. He, the meat today turned out a little salty. I accidentally put in too much salt."
He Lang looked at him coldly. "Just today?"
The chef immediately panicked and shook his head. "Mr. He, I haven't been feeling well lately. My hand trembles when I add the salt. It really wasn't intentional."
He Lang smiled, his gaze dropping. In a cold voice, he said, "If you're not feeling well, you should go home and rest."
