Chen Yang walked up to the dining table, his eyes immediately catching the shiny, crispy roasted chicken. He swiftly moved his plate next to the chicken and asked the waiter standing nearby, "Excuse me, where are the fork and knife?"
The waiter had been standing by the table for a long time, not seeing a single person come to get food.
A table over ten meters long, filled with exquisite dishes, remained untouched. If it passed three in the morning, all this food would be thrown into the trash, something the waiter always found to be a pity.
Seeing that Chen Yang was about to take some food, he immediately fetched the cutlery, bowed, and placed it in front of Chen Yang saying, "Sir, please enjoy your meal slowly. These dishes are prepared by famous chefs from abroad. You see, this roast suckling pig is made with New Zealand pork..."
