bdsm-fiction The senior student from class 082 blushed.
The senior student from class 082 blushed.
When Wang Zhe arrived at the entrance of the hot pot restaurant with Zhu Qi, he was taken aback.
The brightly lit signboard reads three words: Haidilao.
Wang Zhe's expression was somewhat strange: "This is the... really spicy hot pot restaurant you were talking about?"
Zhu Qi swung her car keys, looking completely nonchalant: "Yeah, this is the spiciest place I've ever eaten at. What's wrong?"
Wang Zhe opened his mouth, but hesitated to speak.
For someone from Sanchuan, taking them to Haidilao is a subtle offense. It's like taking an Italian to Pizza Hut—it's well-intentioned, but you can't really say anything about it.
Wang Zhe sighed, swallowed back the words "This is what you call hot pot?", and said, "I've never eaten at this place before, but I'll give it a try."
As soon as the two reached the door, a friendly waiter came to greet them.
"Welcome! Two people? This way, please!"
After they were seated, it was Zhu Qi's turn to order: "I'd like a four-compartment hot pot, so we can try more flavors. I'll have a tomato broth and a mushroom broth... You want something spicy, what level of spiciness?"
Wang Zhe: "What's the spiciness level here?"
"Mild, medium, extra spicy," Zhu Qi warned. "Don't try to show off. Eating should be an enjoyment; there's no need to torture yourself."
Wang Zhe nodded: "You're right, let's play it safe and go for medium spicy."
Zhu Qi was taken aback: "Medium spicy or conservative? I already find mild spicy too... Okay, since you're so insistent, then medium spicy it is. And then, what other dishes do you want to add?"
Wang Zhe randomly selected a few must-order Sichuan and Chongqing hot pot dishes such as tripe, goose intestines, and beef aorta, and added a few more plates of meat.
Soon, the bottom of the pot was served.
Inside the square pot, the four colors—red, orange, white, and clear—are clearly distinguished.
Zhu Qi pointed to the hot pot with its bubbling red oil and a few dried chilies floating on top, and reminded her seriously, "Last time my mom and I came here, we ordered the mild version, and neither of us could handle it. Be careful when you eat it later, don't try to be a hero."
Wang Zhe glanced at the red oil pot.
The color did look impressive, but in the eyes of this Chengdu native, the layer of red oil was pitifully thin, and the base flavor was not rich enough.
He shook his head: "There's no point in showing off."
As they were talking, the dishes were served one after another.
As the pot boiled, the red oil broth was the first to bubble and fizz.
Wang Zhe picked up a piece of tripe, dipped it in the hot oil for ten seconds, watched it curl slightly, then picked it up, rolled it in his own dipping sauce, and put it in his mouth.
The tripe is crisp and crunchy, with the aroma of chili oil and the flavor of minced garlic.
He felt that the taste was actually okay, but it wasn't stimulating enough.
Zhu Qi sat opposite him, chopsticks in hand, watching him nervously. Seeing him swallow without changing his expression, without even frowning, she couldn't help but widen her eyes.
"Are you really okay?"
"No problem, the taste is alright," Wang Zhe commented.
Zhu Qi, skeptical, carefully picked up a slice of fatty beef and cooked it in the spicy broth. When she took it out, she didn't dare eat it directly; instead, she put the slice into the pot of clear water next to her.
Rinse it once, then shake it.
She didn't put the meat slices in her mouth until she had washed off all the chili oil and chili peppers. Only then did she dip them in a little sesame paste.
Even so, she was still jolted by the lingering spiciness and gasped for breath, quickly taking a big gulp of chilled plum juice.
Wang Zhe couldn't help but laugh as he watched her smooth and effortless movements.
"Senior, are you giving meat a bath?"
"I have to rinse it with clean water before I dare to eat it, otherwise my throat can't handle it. Don't you think it's spicy?"
Zhu Qi put down her cup, her cheeks slightly red from the spiciness, and her right hand, which wasn't holding chopsticks, was still fanning her face.
Wang Zhe cooked another goose intestine and laughed, "Excuse my bluntness, but this restaurant's spicy broth is simply not good enough for Chengdu. It's advertised as medium spicy, but it's hard to say if it's even mild. In Chengdu, this kind of broth would be disqualified from being a hot pot restaurant."
"Really?" Zhu Qi asked incredulously. "This is already so spicy it's practically on fire, and it's still not enough?"
Wang Zhe shook his head: "Chengdu is alright. If you go to Chongqing, the hot pot there is much stronger. The broth there is divided into nine compartments, but unlike here, each compartment has a different flavor. Their nine compartments are full of red oil, with a dense layer of chili peppers and Sichuan peppercorns floating on top."
Zhu Qi was stunned: "Isn't that just torturing yourself?"
"For those who are used to it, it's a treat. Spiciness is actually a form of pain. Some people even enjoy the thrill of pain..."
Speaking of this, Wang Zhe couldn't help but think of Jiang Di, who was still in Chengdu. That girl must really like hot pot, right?
The two ate and chatted, their conversation extending from hot pot to the different ways people in various regions can handle spicy food.
Wang Zhe added, "Actually, Chengdu and Chongqing aren't the most tolerant of spicy food. There's a widely circulated saying, if I remember correctly, 'People from Sichuan and Chongqing aren't afraid of spicy food, people from Hunan aren't afraid of spicy food, but people from Jiangxi are afraid of food that isn't spicy enough.' Sichuan and Hunan cuisines are quite famous for their spiciness, but have you ever heard much about Jiangxi cuisine?"
Zhu Qi nodded: "It seems I haven't heard of it before."
Wang Zhe: "This shows that it's already so spicy that it's difficult for it to spread to other provinces, especially places like Shanghai and Hong Kong..."
Although Zhu Qi is a wealthy heiress and has dined at many high-end restaurants, she clearly doesn't know much about them.
As we chatted, she suddenly sighed, "Hearing you say that makes me feel like I've wasted the last twenty years of my life. I haven't been to enough places; there are so many cities in China that I haven't visited."
Wang Zhe was somewhat surprised.
He took a sip of his cola and asked, "With your family's financial situation, you can easily go anywhere with just a plane ticket, right? Why don't you travel often? Do you not like traveling?"
Zhu Qi shook her head, her eyes dimming slightly: "I love traveling. But when I was little... no one took me traveling."
Then the two fell silent.
With Wang Zhe's experience, he could certainly tell that this seemingly carefree girl must have her own difficulties. But of course, he wouldn't pry. Discussing things too intimately with someone you don't know well is a major social taboo.
He subtly shifted the topic: "But now, you're a twenty-year-old adult, in college, with plenty of time and opportunities to travel during winter and summer vacations. Besides, you're not short of money, you also have people to travel with."
Zhu Qi looked up at Wang Zhe with a slightly surprised expression.
Wang Zhe added, "Now that you're the leader of a startup team, deciding where to go for team building is just a matter of a word from you, isn't it?"
Zhu Qi took a deep breath, and that bright smile returned to her face. She raised her Coke cup, extending it towards the center as if to clink glasses.
"If everything goes well for our startup team during winter break... then we'll find a place to travel, no, to have a team-building trip!"
Wang Zhe raised his glass and gently clinked it against hers.
Compared to the design institute leaders in my previous life who were known for their inhumane behavior, this senior female boss, despite her aloof first impression, is incredibly kind, lovely, and easy to get along with.
They let everyone leave before it even got dark and even treated us to hot pot… The design institute leaders will only make you work until dawn. As for shares? Ha! There's no overtime pay.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.