You Want Out? I'll Help You

So mournful, so miserable, so wretched—and coming from a bird's mouth, was it a joke? A joke? Or just childish innocence? No matter what anyone else thought, Qin Fen was deeply wounded. Being a Duty Star Official wasn't easy. This little bastard was screwing him over!

Although the surrounding looks—including that security guard not far away—didn't creepily drift toward Chef Qin's crotch and merely took it as a joke, Qin Fen was still speechless at the sheer awkwardness and gave Meow-Meow a knock.

"You dare hit your bird's head?"

Qin Fen stopped. The pressure was immense. The people around them laughed again. The words sounded ambiguous, though their gazes were mainly fixed on the mynah. Of course, they still had one question: who was Little Bean? Who was Old Wang Next Door? And how fierce was the Three-Second King? It perfectly embodied a classic move—one thrust in, one pull out. Others repeated the process; he only had a fleeting instant!

"All right, you win. As long as you listen to me and don't cause trouble, there'll be plenty of benefits for you later!" Qin Fen coaxed patiently. These second-generation beasts of the Heavenly Court were basically children. They were easy to handle.

Meow-Meow nodded. "I guarantee it on my character!"

Qin Fen's mouth twitched. You counted as a person? He took out a handful of peanuts and tossed a little to each of them.

When they reached the venue entrance, it seemed he couldn't get in! The security guard politely stopped the chef. "Please show your identification or invitation."

Qin Fen howled at the sky. Details determined success or failure! Chairman Zhou, you were such a big boss—how did you lead your team? Where was the invitation you promised? You clearly forgot about it the moment you finished talking!

Qin