Being robbed of the blame, at the age of 33, I resigned and set up a stall. A bowl of stomach-nourishing white fungus soup passed down by my grandma actually attracted the youngest domineering CEO in the city.
During the day, he was a decisive business boss, but at night he squatted in front of my stall as a loyal dog eater. He thought my skills were poor and the stall was small, so he spent money to open a chain store. In the end, he blocked me in the alley and said, "Boss, I'll take care of the secret recipe and you."
