"Okay, just a moment!" Zhao Xiaohui poured tea for the men, then walked into the back kitchen and said to Wu Shufen, "Mom, they didn't order anything specific. They just told us to make whatever's good. But they don't look like they're here for a proper meal. What should we make for them?"
Wu Shufen glanced at the young men outside, who had their feet propped up on the table, and frowned. "You already mentioned the porcini mushrooms, so make a stir-fried porcini dish. Then a pickled pepper chicken gizzards, and some quick-fried liver..."
The dishes were all spicy, numbing, and fragrant—just the kind of flavors those young punks loved.
Zhang Xiuqing nodded. "Okay, I'll get started."
"Little Hui, go watch the front. It's almost noon, the lunch rush will be starting." After saying this, Wu Shufen and Zhang Xiuqing got busy.
