Mouth

"Luo Di, Wu Wen, and Hua Yuan, you'll be sharing a table with the newly arrived Mr. Qu today. I'll prepare a feast."

"So it's not an individual set meal tailored to each person?" Luo Di rather missed the noodles Hunter made.

"Today is a special case. Luo Di, come help me chop vegetables. There'll be quite a lot of work."

"Alright."

Today's dishes arrived much later than usual. They waited a full twenty minutes.

Hunter, wearing an apron, personally pushed an insulated food cart into the private room. Every plate inside held a lavish dish.

The first dish was "Guo Bao Rou," piled into a mountain on a basin-sized plate. It was incredibly crisp, with a perfectly balanced sweet-and-sour flavor.

The second was freshly fried eggplant sandwiches. Generous meat filling melded with fresh eggplant, while grease-rich juices seeped through the filling. Every bite was immensely satisfying.

The third was the heavyweight dish, braised pork knuckle. At least four enormous knuckles had been sliced and piled together, rich with sauce fragrance and without the slightest gaminess.

The fourth was also freshly fried: dry-fried Meatballs. Their crispy shell was exceptionally thin, their meat filling perfectly seasoned. After eating one, you wanted another.

The fifth dish, chicken stewed with mushrooms, took up a full third of the table. The broth was delicious, and the chicken tender.

For the final dish, Hunter directly brought over the wok and ingredients. He sliced pork liver on the spot, preparing stir-fried liver tips. As for the heat source, Luo Di took care of it—he pressed his palm against the bottom of the wok, instantly heating it to 300°C.

It was stir-fried over high heat and served in ten seconds. Crisp yet tender, brimming with wok hei.

Mr. Qu unconsciously picked up his chopsticks. Even though he