I, a Michelin-starred waste chef in the 21st century, was reborn as a prisoner in the Qin Dynasty. I had the word "Cheng Dan Chun" tattooed on my face and set up a broken pot at the east gate of Xianyang. The first spoonful of egg-fried rice was taken out of the pot, and the aroma washed down the city wall. Ying Zheng was patrolling the border, and the horse and carriage came to a sudden stop - "Here for me! Bounty of 10,000 yi!" My hand shook: It's over, I forgot to add poppy to the spices, and added modern MSG. This emperor... Will be addicted.
