Jiang Chengde's busyness had lasted for quite some time.
Jiang Feng had been going back and forth between Jiang Chengde and the queue of people at the back door. He watched as the queue gradually diminished, saw each boy who fetched the dishes sprint in the cold wind, and saw Jiang Chengde tirelessly move from one dish to the next as if he were a robot.
By the time he reached the last dish, it was already very late.
Jiang Feng couldn't tell the time, but judging from the moonlight outside, the gradually quieting air, and the increasingly empty and quiet kitchen, along with the helpers and crowd leaving, he could tell that it was indeed no early hour.
Now, only seven people remained in the kitchen.
Even Master Chen had finished his work and gone home, leaving only Jiang Chengde working among the head chefs.
He was at work on that very same dish Jiang Feng had seen him start with, the dumplings coated in egg batter.
