"Same people doing the same work, but the results just aren't the same."
Guo Zongbao worked the scale, weighing out the seasonings and picking through them to reach the exact weight.
Meanwhile, beside him, Wang Yan lifted a bag one-handed and gave it two shakes. He casually picked out some seasonings from it and poured them straight into the machine.
The sight left Guo Zongbao full of admiration. Though he had seen it many times already, every time he saw how effortlessly Wang Yan did it, he could not help but marvel at how the gap between people was even greater than the gap between people and dogs.
Wang Yan laughed. "It's nothing but practice making perfect."
"Stop trying to comfort me. I've been doing this for days too, and while my errors are getting smaller, I know that even if I did it as long as you have, I still wouldn't be this capable. This is talent. Heaven gave it to you—other people can't ask for it."
"Come on, what talent? Old Guo, quit flattering me. Keep it up and you'll coax me right back into my mother's womb."
Only Wang Yan knew that he had never been a talented person. Destiny had merely favored him and made him a lucky one. All the strengths he had now had been his weaknesses before his living father favored him. And all his former strengths had been weaknesses.
Shen Ranran, who was helping Guo Zongbao, laughed brightly. "Uncle Guo is really good at complimenting people. He'll flatter you so much you won't know which way is north."
"You're only realizing that now?" Zhuangzhuang straightened up and pounded her slender waist. "Brother Guo is the company's best salesperson. He has the highest sales figures."
"Oh, you can't compare it that way. Our