After 50 days of practicing, Mag was finally able to make such beautiful tofu pudding. If he could go back in time, he would slap himself across the face. "Keep that tongue to yourself if you have nothing good to say!" he would tell himself.
The requirements he had made before had come back to bite him. Although he had the most perfect experience of making tofu pudding in his head and had practiced thousands of times, he wasn't very confident in passing the test.
These two bowls of tofu pudding were the best he had ever made. Both the tofu pudding and the sides were all excellent. The faint fragrance of the tofu pudding and the sauce made him swallow in spite of himself.
People who loved sweet tofu pudding would be more interested in the left one. After all, even Mag wanted to try it as he smelled the faint, agreeable fragrance.
Mag was waiting for the system's judgment, nervous and expectant.
