As the youngest child of Han Guishan, little Han Youxin's birthday is naturally a grand affair.
From around 10 o'clock, guests started arriving one after another. Han Guishan and Wang Jing couldn't sneak into the kitchen to steal some food anymore, and the banquet hall at Imperial Restaurant was bustling, while the kitchen was a hive of activity.
As mealtime approached, the tension in the kitchen grew. Tong De Yan's face was hard to look at pleasantly, his disdain for the Imperial Restaurant helpers was almost palpable, and his mouth was like it was poisoned, spouting words that were comparable to chemical weapons in the form of personal attacks.
"I asked you to carve radish flowers, what did you carve? A big red flower for kindergarten children? Should I pour a spoonful of ketchup over it to add some color? It's a child's birthday banquet, and you really made the garnish look like a children's meal, is Imperial Restaurant a baby dining place?"
