"Tasty?"
An unexpected inquiry.
Tiqie Ji's numb expression wavered, and he looked up at the young chef standing before him.
His face remained stiff.
But in the high-definition camera, the middle-aged man lost his previous hysteria, slowly bent down, picked up the fallen lacquered wooden food box from the floor, and placed it on the table.
"...Any more?"
His lips moved. Tiqie Ji didn't answer whether it was tasty or not but instead asked this.
At this, not only was the audience stunned, Xia Yu was also quite surprised. He sized up Ghost Father's rigid face and after a moment, lightly laughed, "I'm sorry, but due to equipment limitations, preparing seven servings was the limit."
Ghost Father's eyelids twitched slightly upon receiving the answer and then fell silent, not speaking again.
"Hmph, waste!"
From the guest seats, Research Faction's Lin Giant Lei Zhe angrily left.
"Next, we move on to the voting round!"
