Xia Yu glanced up and down at Yuchuan Ayaka, who stood in front of the car door, without speaking.
Yuchuan Xin and his daughter Yuchuan Ayaka both seemed uneasy.
"That is..." Yuchuan Xin chuckled awkwardly, "Chef Xia, according to the terms of the culinary competition, Ayaka is now your..."
As he spoke, the House Chief of the Yuchuan family couldn't help but inwardly criticize the culinary competition contract he had set for his daughter.
Now, he had hoisted himself with his own petard, hadn't he?
No matter how powerful the Yuchuan family was, they dared not arm-wrestle with the IGO International Gourmet Organization.
Moreover, Yuchuan Xin had consulted Master Yizhen of the Shi Lin Temple the previous night.
The old monk had only one sentence to offer:
Accept the loss with grace.
Tasting the bitterness of defeat could lead one to walk farther.
