Thirty minutes later, the first dish finally emerged from the kitchen.
The sizzling sounds had been constant since Ling Lan disappeared behind the thin curtain that separated the dining area from her humble cooking space.
The fragrance of garlic, ginger, and freshly heated oil gradually filled the once-empty restaurant, pushing away the stale silence that had dominated it for days.
Ling Lan truly was a one-woman army.
She chopped, stirred, flipped, seasoned, and plated without a single pause.
Every step was done with precision born from years of practice.
Though she had no assistants, no helpers, and no one to share the burden, her movements were efficient and graceful.
It was as if the kitchen was her battlefield and she intended to win.
When she finally stepped out with the first dish, steam curling upward from the plate, her cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the flames.
