Duan Shengwei's lips curved into a rare smile. "Miss Gu Mianmian, isn't it? I've been watching you tonight."
She blinked, unsure of what to expect.
"I won't waste words. The National Culinary Arts Association has always been rigorous about its entry. Certification, interviews, formalities—most spend years trying to pass through those gates." His voice was smooth, yet carried a weight that made those nearby strain to listen.
Mianmian nodded carefully, waiting.
"That being said," Duan Shengwei continued, "rules exist for the common path. Exceptional skill, however, is not something paperwork can define."
A wave of murmurs swept the crowd.
"I'd like to offer you a direct position in the Association. No tests. No certifications. The seat is yours if you'll accept it."
The silence was deafening.
Even Madam Xiong's brows rose slightly, surprised.
Mianmian's lips parted, stunned, but before she could speak—
