"Okay." Ling Miao nodded and prepared to turn around and go back.
Unexpectedly, Samuel seemed to have heard something. He walked confidently through the crowd, stood behind Ling Miao, and grabbed the corner of her clothes.
Ling Miao turned her head, and the other person said matter-of-factly:
"You are the chef."
"You can cook?"
Ling Miao nodded indifferently.
Samuel didn't care about her attitude; instead, he clapped his hands and said, "That's great."
"Tuer, Okai, bring out my ingredients."
After saying that, he turned his head and looked at Ling Miao with an arrogant expression, "You will be in charge of my dinner tonight."
"I'm sorry, young master, I am not your private chef."
After refusing, Ling Miao turned around and stepped directly into the restaurant.
Samuel stood there, his eyes wide with anger, stomped his foot, and hurriedly chased after the other person, blocking their path.
"Why won't you make it for me?"
Lingling didn't even bother to look at him. A look of resentment appeared on her delicate, prince-like face, completely devoid of any beauty.
She walked right past him and strode into the kitchen.
"Tur, stop her!"
With a pained expression, Tuer stepped forward, walked up to Ling Miao, bent down, and whispered:
"I'm so sorry."
"But our young master really can't eat anything else."
Ling Miao glanced at him coldly.
He walked straight over.
Seeing this, Tu'er quickly blocked her path again and pleaded in a low voice:
"I'm sorry to put you in a difficult position, but as long as you promise us that you will provide our young master with every meal before you leave this planet, you can name your price."
"We provide our own ingredients."
Upon hearing this, Ling Miao stopped and looked up at him.
You can have a falling out with anyone, but you can't have a falling out with money.
She raised an eyebrow and repeated, "I can name my price?"
"Yes." The other person nodded confidently.
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