Lamb has a strong, gamey smell, which some people dislike, while others absolutely love it.
When a large group of people are eating together at a table, it is necessary to ask all the people at the table beforehand to avoid any dietary restrictions that might make the meal unpleasant.
Zhao Changqing, however, did not mind the mutton: "I'll eat it."
"Can you eat spicy food?" He Youyou asked, pointing to the two compartments for the spicy beef tallow soup.
Zhao Changqing stared at the bright red broth, wondering what it was.
But he knew what spiciness tasted like.
The spicy dishes of the Da Gan Dynasty used a lot of pepper to create their spiciness.
"Can."
He Youyou didn't really mind Zhao Changqing's succinct reply.
It's a custom of not talking while eating or sleeping; it's a common habit of the ancients, and it's normal that they can't change it.
She placed slices of meat in all four compartments, and once the soup boiled and the meat changed color, she urged them to take it out.
"You can take it out and eat it now. If you cook it for too long, the meat will become tough and won't taste good."
Han Wenzheng found the bright red broth appealing and couldn't resist picking up a piece from the spicy hot pot, dipping it in the sauce, and popping it into his mouth.
"Ah! It's so spicy!"
He Youyou smiled and handed him a glass of water.
Han Wenzheng drank several mouthfuls in a row before he felt a little better.
"Ali, you can't handle spicy food, so you should eat the mushroom soup instead."
As she spoke, He Youyou scooped a few slices of meat from the mushroom soup and gave them to him.
Han Wenzheng felt his entire tongue and mouth were numb and burning, as if he were being cooked in oil. Although it was uncomfortable, but...
"It's delicious!" he exclaimed. "I've never eaten anything so delicious before."
He Youyou joked, "This is nothing. I'll take you to eat even better food in the future."
Zhao Changqing, who was quietly eating meat, was also quite shocked by the taste.
It's delicious.
It was better than any hot pot he had ever eaten.
This woman, I don't know where she got these seasonings from, made his mouth water.
This spiciness is different from pepper; the stimulation is more direct and intense.
Zhao Changqing felt as if his chopsticks had come to life and couldn't stop moving.
Han Wenzheng was at the age of growth and had a large appetite, while Zhao Changqing was young and vigorous and also had an amazing appetite.
The two men were so focused on grabbing the food that even Han Wenzheng didn't have time to chat. The entire meal was conducted in a "no talking while eating" manner.
The three of them ended up eating all the meat and vegetables prepared in the kitchen, and the two men even ate a large bowl of noodles each.
After the meal, Zhao Changqing wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and looked at the empty table in front of him, only then realizing that he had eaten quite a lot.
Feeling a little embarrassed, he pretended to be nonchalant and said, "Tomorrow, I'll have someone buy a few more sheep."
He Youyou added, "Let's buy a pig too. We can slaughter it during the New Year, and the fresh offal and pig's blood will make a delicious hot pot."
"Okay, sure."
The next day, He Youyou prepared to go to Zhulin Temple as planned.
She was going to find Cheng Tingrui to make a horse-trading deal.
She wasn't confident of victory on this trip.
It may succeed, or it may fail and end in defeat.
She talks to others about collaborations hundreds of times a year, but only a dozen or so projects are ever successful.
Those who are capable of great things cannot be afraid of failure.
Victory and defeat are common occurrences in warfare.
She believes that as long as she learns from each failure, she will be one step closer to success with each setback.
Upon exiting the gate, I saw that the carriage was already prepared.
He Youyou got into the carriage, and there were people waiting inside.
"Young Master Zhao?" He Youyou asked in surprise.
Zhao Changqing, dressed in a dark blue brocade cotton robe and a dark mink coat, sat in the carriage and glanced at her indifferently: "I will go with you."
"Do you know where I'm going? And what I'm going to do?"
"Zhulin Temple, to hold a memorial service for your... deceased husband Han Silang." Zhao Changqing's eyes were calm. "Han Silang was my closest friend. I will personally arrange this service for him. Madam Han, please rest assured. I am an old acquaintance of the abbot of the temple and will be able to arrange it properly."
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Young Master Zhao."
He Youyou didn't care, since her main purpose in coming here this time wasn't to perform a ritual for the deceased.
Now that someone has volunteered to do it for her, she doesn't have to be distracted.
Once she boarded the carriage, she realized that it wasn't the Han family's carriage, but the one brought by Zhao Changqing.
The interior is very luxurious, and the cabin is spacious.
There was a low table and a charcoal brazier on the vehicle, which made it very warm.
The carriage moved smoothly, and the temperature inside was pleasant.
He Youyou reached into her sleeve and pulled out a thermos.
The thermos contains coffee.
As soon as the lid is opened, the rich aroma of coffee is released.
Zhao Changqing had never smelled anything like this before: "What are you drinking?"
He Youyou took a sip of coffee: "It's medicine, it's so bitter."
Zhao Changqing's eyebrows furrowed.
The alluring fragrance wafted into his nose, and seeing He Youyou's blissful expression, he couldn't believe it was medicine.
This woman lied to him.
Unfortunately, he had no evidence.
Zhulin Temple is located on Guanyin Mountain in the northeast of Jizhou. It is the most popular ancient temple within a radius of 100 miles.
Tourists flock here year-round, and devout men and women make offerings continuously.
Zhao Changqing took his servant alone to the monk in charge of the funeral rites to discuss the rituals for the deceased. He Youyou took the opportunity to slip away and found an excuse to go somewhere else.
Behind the main hall, she quietly called out to a young novice monk: "Young monk, may I ask if there is a man named Cheng Tingrui staying overnight at your temple?"
The young novice monk put his hands together in prayer: "Amitabha, is the lady asking about Layman Cheng Tingrui? He is currently practicing meditation at this temple."
This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
