Jiang Feng had the most peculiar dream that night.
It was both realistic and magical.
He dreamed that time had advanced to the next day's noon when Chef Arno, full of vigor and pomp, arrived at Taifeng Building for a banquet. After eating the chicken beancurd, he was so astounded that he immediately wanted to acknowledge Jiang Feng as his "big brother" and begged tearfully to be taken on as his junior.
Just as Jiang Feng was about to reach the pinnacle of his life in his dream, a compliment from Chef Arno jolted him awake.
"Big brother, the chicken beancurd you made today is 'shit' good!"
He said it with a translator's accent.
It left Jiang Feng sitting on his bed for a long time after waking, dazed, as he savored the dream that seemed to plot like a clichéd martial arts saga, before finally glancing at his phone.
Five-thirty, no wonder he felt it wasn't very bright outside yet.
