The seven members of the culinary association walked a circle, leaving the venue in dead silence.
After a while, Xia Yu rested his chin in his hand and looked at them, asking, "Is my 'food spirit' still there?"
Tiqie Ji, Andrea, and the others subconsciously nodded.
"How much of the mark remains?"
The seven exchanged glances, their eyes flickering.
Andrea pouted, looking aggrieved like a bullied little girl, "About... ninety percent?"
Xia Yu found it amusing that the female tycoon deliberately put on a "young girl" facade.
He turned to Tiqie Ji, "How much exactly?"
Tiqie Ji's expression was also off, unclear words hung in the air without a response.
Sta had already removed his iron mask.
Seeing Xia Yu pick up chopsticks, clearly intending to eat his way through the feast according to the procedure, Sta's eyelid twitched fiercely and reached out to hinder Xia Yu, "You better not eat it, it's embarrassing."
"Why?"
The group looked at each other.
