Chapter 937

Yang song really made a pee pill that can be used as a table tennis ball. It's too shocking.

Zhou Yuanqi saw the webcast and was so angry that he smashed everything at home.

"Yang Song! Yang Song! Why can't I kill you?"

Yang Song failed again.

After repeated defeats and defeats, Zhou Yuanqi still didn't give up. Zhou Yuanqi's perseverance was amazing. He just didn't do serious things.

Lisa admires the newly made manicure and looks at Yang Songfa's flower mania on the screen: "my little brother looks really good!"

Ichio Nozawa, his son and grandson saw it.

They were shocked that one mouth was bigger than the other.

"Is he still a man?"

"Can balls really be played as table tennis?"

"It's a miracle."

"Are Chinese chefs so young and powerful?"

Yoshio Nozawa ran to the kitchen again, and peed on the bar with niumaru.

Another night, Ichio Nozawa looked at the broken balls on the table.

"Why not become a table tennis?"

"Why can't I?"

"Why did I fail again?"

Since watching Yang Song's video, Ichio Nozawa has found that he still has a long way to go in cooking.

He hasn't stood on the top of the mountain yet.

He can't cook the dishes made by Yang Song.

It's shocking.

"Prepare a serious cooking exchange and find a way to invite chef Yang Song. We must understand Wensi tofu and pee ox balls."

"What Chinese chefs can do, we must also be able to do!"

"Arrange it now!"

"The glory of the yeze family cannot be threatened."

Two diseases in a group.

"Also, pay close attention to this Yang Song. Once he has a new dish, be sure to inform me!" Take a deep breath.

"I don't believe it. I can't cook his third dish!"

Konoming Nozawa took out his mobile phone: "Grandpa, he produced another kind of pasta. It's amazing."

The video plays out.

Or the door of Baifeng Pavilion, the familiar table and table, the familiar Yang Song.

He is kneading the dough, a big dough, like a hill.

Today is the day when Yang Song launched spring noodles, fish soup noodles and shredded pork noodles with green pepper.

Summer morning is definitely the most comfortable time of the day.

The plan of the day is in the morning.

Yang Song reconciled the noodles and began to buckle the noodles. He raised his hands and made a skillful light buckle, one after another.

"One, two, three, four... Eleven, twelve, Thirteen!"

Yoshio Nozawa was crazy: "why can he buckle 13 times? Why 13 times? 13 times!"

Yeze Haidou and yeze Kongming also have a dull face.

The yeze family is not a chef who is good at making pasta in any country.

The pastry master of he country is Kenjiro tsuri.

Kenjiro tsuri's best result is eleven times.

Everything, the more it goes to the back, the more it reaches the peak. Even one more time, it is an immeasurable difficulty.

"Call, call Kenjiro shori!" Ichio Nozawa grabbed grandson's cell phone and called.

"Kong Ming, what's the matter with uncle?" Tsuri Kenjiro is a very proud genius. He is arrogant to many people, but he has two good faces to konaki Nozawa, who is like his nephew. "Is your grandpa strict with you again? He is old and has a bad temper. Just hide from him. Don't..."

"Kenjiro!" Ichio Nozawa interrupted him and was about to speak.

Koichiro tsuri, who was caught face-to-face, was not half embarrassed. Instead, he got angry: "Lao yeze, you stole your grandson's mobile phone. You're too much. Children also want privacy. You have to learn to respect them and return your mobile phone to Kongming."

He didn't blame himself for saying bad things behind his back. Instead, he blamed Yoshio Nozawa for hearing it without his permission.

"How many times can you buckle your face?" Ichio Nozawa didn't have time to talk nonsense with him and went straight to the subject.

"What do you mean?" Tsuri Kenjiro was puzzled and wanted to understand: "why, do you noze family want to challenge me?"

"I remember that the best result of your family is to buckle the face ten times, but there is only one successful record. You have kept the record below ten times stably."

Buckle face, ten times is the watershed in the absolute field.

The distance between one and two digits is the end of the world.

Tsuri Kenjiro was very proud: "and I, but I keep the record at 11 times all year round. I am the best pastry master in what country. I..."

"Someone can buckle his face thirteen times!" Ichio Nozawa had to interrupt again.

The opposite side was quiet for five seconds. These five seconds were very long. Ichio Nozawa could only hear the rapid breathing of Kenjiro shori.

Suddenly, the sound of breathing broke.

"Kenjiro, Kenjiro, what's the matter with you? Did you faint?"

For Kenjiro tsuri, who has always regarded 11 buckles as his lifelong glory, this blow is not heavy.

It's not impossible to faint.

"Fake!" Kenjiro tsuri recovered and shouted for the first time: "it's absolutely false. I'm a pastry master. I can deduct it 11 times. It's God's talent. How can anyone be more powerful than me?"

He absolutely doesn't believe it and can't accept it.

"It's true. We all saw it with our own eyes." Yoshio Nozawa was disappointed. He thought that Kenjiro tsuri would make progress. He might have been quietly promoted to 13 times.

He is too naive. Kenjiro tsuri's character. If his buttoning technique is improved, he will make everyone know.

No yelling, just not doing it.

"Where did you see it? You should all be at home at this time. I'll go there and wait for me!" Kenjiro tsuri speaks very fast.

"I'd like to see some hands of your nodose family!"

Misunderstood.

Yoshio Nozawa sighed, "it's not from our Nozawa family."

"Is that heimu's?"

"No."

"Ozawa's?"

"Neither."

"Whose house is that?"

"It's not our country, it's Chinese." Ichio Nozawa was very sad. He lost again.

Yang song can't make the noodles he has deducted this time. It seems that no one in his country can do it.

"I don't believe it! Chinese people eat noodles made by machines. How can they buckle out noodles 13 times?" Tsuri Kenjiro angrily said.

This guy probably forgot that the buckle originated in China.

Heartless stuff.

"I'll send you the video and have a look." Ichio Nozawa gave his cell phone to his grandson.

Kenjiro tsuri didn't call Ichio Nozawa all day and night.

Another night, Ichio Nozawa came home and saw him on the steps at the door.

Tsuri Kenjiro was very embarrassed. He was full of flour and was staring at his hands.

Ichio Nozawa walked over.

"Why? Why not?"

"The cook is so young, why can he?"

"Thirteen times, thirteen times, he succeeded easily. The Chinese people really hate it!"