Chef Zhao was so angry that he stamped his feet: "You...you...you don't know what's good! You're talking nonsense!"

He pointed at the steaming pot on the wonton stand and said, "Look at this environment, it's so dirty, how clean can it be?"

The young man sneered: "It looks like there are flies flying everywhere in your place! They are making wontons right in front of us, which is already very clean!"

He recalled the last time he ate at a state-owned restaurant, and his stomach churned.

"Last time I went to your place to eat noodles, there was a hair in the noodles!"

Chef Zhao stiffened his neck and continued to be stubborn: "It was an accident! An accident! Which restaurant can guarantee that there will be no problems at all?"

"Let's not talk about it. You're arguing with your store manager and not willing to take responsibility. What the hell."

The young man waved his hands impatiently: "Alright, alright, stop talking, I'm too lazy to talk to you. Anyway, no matter how much you say, you just want me to go to your place for dinner, and I won't go!"

After saying that, he cursed, "Psycho!" and walked away.

Looking at the chef's face, it's like looking at a fool!

Chef Zhao was almost mad, he was the best chef! But now he couldn't even compare to the small vendors.

Chef Zhao couldn't stand this, he chased after him and looked at Gu Qingcheng, his face suddenly became gloomy.

"Little comrade, what do you think about what I told you before?"

Gu Qingcheng paused, looked up, and the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

"Uncle, I think I have made it very clear to you before."

"If you want to buy my formula, it's not impossible, but you have to show your sincerity. One million, I won't sell it to you for a penny less."