I leaned nervously on the beam, watching June June next to me gather my breath, crawl forward a few steps, and with a hook of my claws, I grabbed the top piece of the flower-shaped osmanthus cake below.
"Huh? Why is there a piece missing? I clearly laid it out." The young master muttered to himself blankly, turned around, took another piece and stacked it on top.
I became more playful, pulled June over and whispered, "Tick the same plate again."
When the chef added osmanthus cake to the plate for the fourth time, he finally realized something was wrong.
After confirming again and again, the little chef turned around and found that the sweet-scented osmanthus cake was missing again. Finally he couldn't help but hide his face in fear and ran out.
Looking at his leaving figure with a sympathetic face, son, are you new here?