Having grown up in the West, Jiao Yang, though three-quarters Chinese by blood, had been imrsed in Western education from a young age. He had lived abroad for many years and, despite understanding Chinese culture, still lacked a thorough grasp.
"So, today I’m going to give you a practical class on the tip of your tongue!" Luo Xiaoqian placed the chopsticks in his hand, "You can use these, right?"
Having dined with him three tis, twice with Western als and once for breakfast in Sichuan without the use of chopsticks, she wasn’t quite sure whether he actually knew how to use them.
"Of course!" Jiao Yang took the chopsticks. "Don’t forget, both my mother and grandmother are Chinese!"
"So, you’re saying your surna Jiao follows your mother’s side?"
"Smart!" Jiao Yang smiled and nodded. "My English na is Augus Arthur Philip Bowes-Lyon."
Even for Luo Xiaoqian, who was quite good at English, it was nearly impossible to repeat it all, "No way, that long?"
"Augus is my baptismal na, which ans ’unique.’ My mother chose it, hoping I’d be soone who doesn’t just follow the crowd," Jiao Yang explained.
"Au—gu—s?" Luo Xiaoqian tried calling out.
Jiao Yang looked at her profile. "Or, you can call AN, that’s my mother’s pet na for !"
"No way, plus I’m not used to speaking English. I’ll stick with your Chinese na!" Luo Xiaoqian looked at the bubbling broth in the pot, "Alright, now let’s put the at in..."
Jiao Yang mimicked her actions and picked up a piece of lamb from the plate to put it into the broth. "Why invite for this?"
"No reason, really, just thought it tasted good and guessed you might not have tried it before, so I wanted to share it with you," Luo Xiaoqian watched the at clouding the pot, then promptly picked so up and put it into his bowl. "I know soone like you has probably enjoyed gourt food from all over the world. Hotpot isn’t as sophisticated as Western cuisine, nor as refined as Japanese dishes, but whenever Xu Xia and I have sothing to celebrate, we always like to eat hotpot. In her words, it’s not about what you eat, but the feeling it gives you. Even if you chat for hours, the food never gets cold, much like the friendship between close friends, it never cools."
Jiao Yang turned his head to look at her. "So, are we close friends?"
"Of course, why else would I invite you for hotpot?!" Luo Xiaoqian laughed, passing her juice glass over, "Here’s to our great friendship, cheers!"
Because he had driven there, Jiao Yang hadn’t drunk alcohol either, and after taking a sip of juice, he smiled aningfully, "Hopefully, our great friendship won’t make President Leng angry."
"Don’t worry, he knows about today," Luo Xiaoqian set down her glass and started eating the vegetables from her bowl.
This response sowhat surprised Jiao Yang.
Leng Zimo knew she was dining with him alone, yet he did neither stop her nor show up, which didn’t seem to fit his character.
Or could it be that he was so confident of victory that he felt secure?
Luo Xiaoqian turned to face him, noticing he hadn’t eaten his vegetables, and asked anxiously, "Is it not to your taste?"
"How could that be?" Jiao Yang picked up the vegetables from his bowl. "What have you been busy with recently?"
"The new album," she replied.
"Good luck!" Jiao Yang smiled, cheering her on. "I’m really looking forward to your performance!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers