The fumes choked people so much that they couldn't keep their eyes open.
Ye Chen's hand did not stop flipping the spoon, and with a flip of his left hand, the fried rice in the iron pot rose into the air, turned somersaults in the air, and then fell steadily back into the pot. The rice grains are distinct, coated with egg liquid, and glow with a golden oil in the firelight.
"Pack it! Egg fried rice for table three!" He shouted without looking up.
