There was a thick smoke of fireworks and the spicy smell of hot pot ingredients in the air.
Qiao Nian said a few words to the middle-aged woman and then asked him to find a seat.
It was the time when students were getting out of school and office workers were getting off work, and the thirty or so tables on the roadside were almost full.
Fortunately, there is still a spot near the corner.
When Ye Wangchuan saw Qiao Nian passing by, he put his cell phone on the table, occupied his seat, and then turned around and asked him: "Do you want chili for your Malatang?"
Ye Wangchuan stood out among a group of people, and his bloodthirsty eyes glanced at the bowl of the young man at the table next to them.
A layer of fiery red oil floated in the porcelain white bowl.
Before he ate, his throat and stomach started to feel a dull pain.
"...put less."
Qiao Nian's eyes and brows were wild, and she snapped her fingers: "Okay. The blood is strong, do you want to add it?"
Who in Beijing doesn't know that Mr. Wan never eats messy food, and he is even more insensitive to offal food, and he won't even touch French foie gras.
It’s not that I won’t eat it, it’s that I’ll be allergic if I eat it.
Ye Wangchuan pinched his forehead, his head hurt a little, and his voice was low and seductive: "No, just give me a bowl of the most ordinary powder."
Qiao Nian blinked his eyes. His eyes were dark and bright, as if he could see his weakness instantly. His voice was casual: "You can't eat offal?"
Ye Wangchuan didn't know where she saw it, at least he didn't say so himself.
When she wanted to talk again, the beautiful and sassy girl had already put away her unfocused eyes and was about to get the food: "I don't want the offal kind, and there is a little less chili, right? I understand."
…
The tables, chairs and stools at the roadside stalls were too small for him.
The height is less than half a meter, and paired with a shorter plastic stool, it forms a table, which is as simple as pretending to be a family wine shop.
Fortunately, although the tables and chairs are simple, it can be seen that the boss is very tidy and wipes them clean.
He bent down and pulled out a stool and sat down.
He is tall, has long arms and legs, and the plastic stool is so short that he can only sit down by bending his body, and there is almost no place for his long legs.
This was the first time Ye Wangchuan was so embarrassed. Even if he had faced a hail of bullets, he had never been so embarrassed before.
"coming."
Qiao Nian came back soon, holding two bowls in her hands. The bowls were so hot and smoking that it felt hot to the touch.
"This is yours, I didn't put much chili pepper in it."
A bowl of hot and sour noodles was placed on the table in front of him. It was fragrant and had only a thin layer of red oil on it. It didn't look spicy at all.
"this is mine."
Qiao Nian pulled up the stool opposite him and sat down. A bowl of the same red hot and sour noodles looked much spicier, with a layer of spicy oil floating on it. In addition to sweet potato noodles, the bowl also contained duck blood and bean sprouts...
She took out two pairs of disposable chopsticks from the chopstick holder with a relaxed expression, opened one pair and handed it to him, and then opened another pair herself.
He seemed to be in a good mood and said, "Spicy hotpot should be eaten while it's hot. Aunt Chen's cooking is very good. Students and working people nearby like to come here to eat. Please give it a try."
"kindness."
Seeing her eating deliciously, Ye Wangchuan felt an appetite for some reason. He lowered his head, picked up a chopstick with his chopsticks, and tried it.
The sweet potato flour was blanched in the hot pot ingredients until it was soft and glutinous, and the bean sprouts were freshly cut, which combined the spiciness and was refreshing and refreshing. He had never tried this kind of street snack before, but he didn't expect it to taste good. He raised the corners of his mouth, and there was a fierce look in his eyes.
His anger receded a lot, and his shoulders relaxed like Qiao Nian's.
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