Shen Hao wrapped an arm around Lian Xiang's waist as he watched Chef Zhang's hands with curiosity.
Before catching the fish, Chef Zhang put on a glove, reached into the water, and scooped up a Cold Moon Fish onto the chopping board. Then, with a slender, long knife, he twirled it rapidly—a flash of knife work: descaling, gutting, all done in one go. Even with Shen Hao's sharp eyes, he barely saw a flicker of blood on the board before it was immediately rinsed away with clean water.
"What fast knife work!" Shen Hao frowned slightly. This chef was lightning-quick both drawing and sheathing the knife; his movements were honed to the limit. And yet, this man really was just an ordinary person.
Is this the pinnacle of skill through constant practice?
As this thought flashed through his mind, he saw the chef had already finished the first step of preparing the Cold Moon Fish sashimi.
He took off his glove and replaced it with a pair of transparent gloves, thin as cicada wings.
