The diners were furious from the stinky foie gras.
The restaurant manager was almost going crazy, rushing into the kitchen and yelling, "What's going on? How could the ingredients stink? What are you doing back here!"
Fang Yumei's heart was pounding like a drum, her head was about to explode.
Hastily pulling a tablecloth from the kitchen trash cart to cover her suddenly inflated body, the abrupt thought in her mind kept echoing:
"The number of people refusing to eat your dish has exceeded 30. The backlash will double, and the dish will spoil."
Hell, who are those 30 people?
So blind, so outrageous, refusing to eat perfectly fine foie gras, and now this is all on her, making her bloat up and ruining the dish, tarnishing her reputation as the God of Food!
But at this moment, how could she possibly admit it was her fault?
Looking around, she immediately found a scapegoat: "There's absolutely nothing wrong with my cooking, is someone jealous and messed with my dishes?"
