While talking, Nian Bing's right hand swiftly turned the chicken wings that had begun to heat up on the charcoal fire. Each side of the wings was on the fire for no more than a second. The other two chefs halted their work and looked at him with cold, mocking smiles, waiting to see how Nian Bing would embarrass himself.
Nian Bing's movements were simple, something any ordinary person could do, but the difficulty lay in the rhythm of the spins. From start to finish, his speed remained consistent, without any slightest change. The two chefs grilling the chicken wings were not fools — the scorn they initially felt disappeared quickly, replaced with a serious expression.
Nian Bing's actions were effortless. When the wings began to turn golden, he changed his movements, flipping each skewer from left to right in a continuous cycle, still maintaining a steady rhythm. Each skewer of wings was now roasting longer on one side over the charcoal fire than before.