"Candidates, please follow me. The first round will commence shortly."
A current of tension rippled through the room. Chairs scraped against the polished floor, suitcases rolled, bags were lifted. The air, once buzzing with nervous chatter, fell into taut silence. Fifty hopefuls rose to their feet, their expressions a blend of determination and dread.
Mianmian stood with them, steadying her breathing as she placed her spice on her shoulder. Her palms were damp, but her gaze remained calm. She had not come all this way to tremble.
They were led down another corridor, it was brighter this time, where sunlight poured through a long glass window that looked out onto the city skyline.
At the far end, heavy double doors stood closed, bearing the golden insignia of the Culinary Association.
The staff member pushed them open.
Gasps rose from the group.
