Facing Lin Jie's inquiry, Chef Song didn't deny it. He nodded and said, "That's right. In the past month or two, more than one regular customer has asked me the same question."
"But the taste I experienced has always been consistent."
Chef Song showed a troubled expression. "If only one or two customers, or even a few customers, made comments, it naturally wouldn't be my problem. But a lot of regular customers have made the same comment, so clearly, it's my problem."
"I heard that rascal say you're a doctor and think there's something wrong with my body."
He stared at Lin Jie, grinning, and said, "Young man, then take a look at me. I kind of hope your judgment is true. Lately, I've been wondering if I'm getting old and my taste buds have dulled."
"If there really is something wrong with my body, then it proves that I'm not old yet, and I can still cook delicious meals!"
