"What's wrong? Didn't you want to come here and eat?" Han Zhuoling asked.
"I'm afraid you won't be used to it," Shi Xiaoya said. She pointed to her own eyebrows and said, "Look at how you're frowning."
"It's fine." Han Zhuoling relaxed his eyebrows and said, "I was worried that you would be bumped into by other people and unconsciously frowned out of anxiousness. It has nothing to do with the environment here."
Han Zhuoling laughed. "I'm not so dainty."
The word "dainty" would probably never apply to Han Zhuoling in his lifetime.
"What do you want to eat, have you thought of it?" Han Zhuoling asked her again.
Shi Xiaoya glanced at the stores on both sides and suddenly smelled a waft of barbecued fragrance. She then saw that at the entrance of a particular store, the meat skewers on the charcoal stove were all skewered in long fruitwood sticks.
Shi Xiaoya had read the description before. That was how authentic lamb skewers were made.
