Heavenly Court, Imperial Kitchen.
"How is the preparation of the new dish I ordered you to make?"
Surrounded by a host of palace attendants, Queen Mother looked down at the two Immortals and a Mortal kneeling below, as well as at the standing Wukong, her voice somewhat ethereal.
"Please taste it, Your Highness," Wukong said indifferently.
Queen Mother nodded, "You all know the importance of the Flat Peach Festival. If it doesn't meet my standards, you should know the consequences."
The Kitchen God and the God of Cookery below trembled, sweat beading on their foreheads.
Of the remaining one hundred and forty-eight dishes, not one had been settled upon, and their hearts were icy cold.
After Great Immortal Wukong returned yesterday, he didn't clarify anything, merely told them not to worry.
But was this something they could simply stop worrying about if told to?
This was a matter that concerned their official positions and their very heads.
