Yuan Fangzhi had returned in less than the duration of a cup of tea, holding a large tray.
On the tray were five small dishes, each containing something; at first glance, each dish seemed to contain fish, but just by looking, one obviously could not tell what they were.
Yuan Fangzhi quickly arranged the dishes on the table next to Sun Yixie's seat and then stood aside, watching Sun Yixie with a smile, "Mr. Sun... please go ahead."
Clearly, in Yuan Fangzhi's heart, this challenge was already Sun Yixie's undoing.
If you had chosen pork, tofu, or such, perhaps there was still a chance to guess the origin of the ingredient, or at least the method of cooking; like black pig, white pig, Jinhua pork, southern or northern stews, frying or boiling, which most people would have heard of.