Super Zoo

Suming quickly pulled Nangong to one side to hide, but he couldn't contain his excitement inside!

The few men with masks, carrying large bags, and a fierce gleam in their eyes took another step closer to the jewelry store, and with each step, Suming's heart skipped a beat.

At this moment, he was no longer a zoo director—Zhang Ziqiang, Hao, and Brother Haonan seemed to have possessed him, and he could even guess what was going to happen next!

Soon, a car would come screeching around the corner and crash into the jewelry store, then these men would pull out AKs from their bags, burst into the store, and shout, "This is a robbery, men to the left, women to the right, transgenders in the middle"...

The female sales assistants, terrified out of their wits, might manage to keep cool and secretly press the hidden alarm button under the counter...

Two uniformed policemen on patrol around the corner, one hand on their revolver and the other pressing down their cap, would duck and hurry over, but upon seeing the police, the brazen gunmen with AKs wouldn't hesitate to open fire, pinning down the plainclothes officers with an onslaught of bullets, preventing them from raising their heads,

"This is officer PC2300987, calling headquarters, we have a robbery on Hennessy Road, requesting backup, requesting backup!"

The PTU assault team and the Flying Tigers would swarm in from all directions, and then a fierce shootout would ensue...

If it really happened like this, Suming thought this trip to Xiangjiang would be totally worth it!

Unfortunately, things often don't go as one hopes.

The 'ferocious-looking' 'masked robbers' stopped in their tracks behind the iron bars at the entrance of the jewelry store, calmly took out several big banners from their large bags, lifted them above their heads, and through the iron bars, shouted at the mainland tourists in the store: "Parallel traders, go back home!"

The uniformed patrol officers appeared as expected, two bespectacled plainclothes officers walked over from the corner, but neither did they jog nor draw their guns, nor was there a scene of calling for Flying Tigers backup. The two patrol officers stood with their arms crossed, a look of helplessness on their faces, as they positioned themselves between the jewelry store and the 'masked robbers' to prevent the anti-parallel traders from acting rashly.

The mainland tourists in the shop took a brief look outside, and seeing the police around, they continued shopping; many of the local Xiangjiang people passing by seemed to be used to this kind of scene, shaking their heads and walking around these protesting youths.

"Damn it, the robbers turned into anti-parallel traders?" Suming was greatly disappointed. What happened to the Big Circle Boys? What happened to the major jewelry store robbery?

Things were getting worse, not better!

Nangong didn't take these anti-parallel traders too seriously either, and they continued to shop along Hennessy Road, picking up some souvenirs and such. Coming out of Sogo Department Store, it was almost four-thirty in the afternoon, Nangong Yan touched her stomach and said, "I'm hungry after all this walking!"

"I'm both tired and hungry!" Suming, carrying bags big and small, looked around and suddenly pointed to a small alleyway at the corner of the street, "Come on, let me treat you to some noodles!"

At the entrance of the alley, there was an open-air stall set up, and surprisingly no police came to drive it away. There was no sign on the stall, but the makeshift dining tables around it were nearly full, which suggested the food must be pretty tasty.

Nangong Yan held back a retort, "Hey, we come to Xiangjiang just to eat ramen?"

"This isn't just any ramen! Have you seen 'God of Cookery'? What Stephen Chow is eating in there, the mixed offal noodles that cost twenty to thirty bucks, are these!"

Strictly speaking, what the noodle stall sold was cart noodles. The mixed offal noodles that Stephen Chow ate in the movie 'God of Cookery' were a modified version of cart noodles.

While explaining, Suming led Nangong Yan across the street and shouted at the chubby stall owner who was scooping noodles, "Two bowls of cart noodles, extra pork skin and beef brisket, and two more servings of curry fish balls!"

"Choose, want to add more noodles and soup too? Are the beef brisket and pork skin free of charge? Why not get three bowls then? Go take a seat and wait!" The sweaty, overweight owner didn't even lift his head as he complained rapidly and then swiftly went back to scooping noodles and preparing toppings.

They found an empty table, and in just a few minutes, the fat owner brought over a large tray, slammed two bowls of noodles down on the table causing the soup to splash, then placed two plates of round and shiny curry fish balls on the table and walked away.

Despite the appalling service, the two bowls of cart noodles were brimming with more than the usual amount of beef brisket and pork skin, and the two plates of curry fish balls were also loaded with ingredients, round and glistening with a thick layer of broth poured over them, truly tantalizing.

"Eat up, eat up. Curry fish balls are a mainstay of Xiangjiang's street eats. It's said that Xiangjiang consumes ten million fish balls a day. I did some research online, and this place serves the most authentic fish balls and cart noodles around, a real old brand!" Suming said as he bit into a fish ball that was incredibly bouncy, nearly ecstatically so.

Turning her head towards the owner's retreating figure, Nangong Yan pouted in dissatisfaction, "Hmph, what an attitude! I'll complain about him!"

"All this for just over sixty bucks to fill us up, do you expect him to give us a smile and call us 'boss' too? Come on, just eat, it's super tasty!" Suming seemed unconcerned as he plucked a crispy piece of pork skin from his bowl and put it into Nangong's.

This is the charm of Xiangjiang's street stalls; these small stall owners are ordinary folks, often culturally rudimentary and temperamental. Some owners are as warm as family, while others might dig their noses and toss sarcastic comments at you as though you were enemies. No matter what, they always serve genuine goods and, unless it's way out of line, they try their best to meet customers' demands to ensure everyone is well-fed.

"Ew, pork skin is so gross..." Nangong delicately held the pork skin with her chopsticks, bracing herself as she took a small bite.

"How is it?" Suming asked, blinking curiously.

"Mmm, mmm!" Nangong's eyes shone as she nodded vigorously, gulping down the rest of the large piece of pork skin with indistinct mutterings, "Woah, so hot, so hot... Wow, it's really tasty, it's my first time eating such chewy pork skin!"

In reality, cart noodles are just a cheap type of noodle dish in Xiangjiang, previously a common street food among the lower and middle classes in Xiangjiang, similar to beef noodles in mainland China. Diners could choose their own toppings and soup, with options including beef brisket, pig's blood curd, pork skin, radish, and a choice of beef sauce, satay sauce, or curry sauce. For around twenty bucks, you can have a satisfying meal with both meat and vegetables, delicious and affordable.

But the same cart noodles can taste completely different in the hands of different people.

The cart noodles Karen Mok served in the movie "God of Cookery" were dreadful: the alkaline noodles weren't rinsed with cold water, the fish balls lacked both fish and curry flavors, the radishes were too sinewy, the pork skin was overcooked and lacked bite, and the worst part was a lump of shit still in the pig intestines—it was a complete disaster!

However, the cart noodles that Suming and his friends were now enjoying were the exact opposite. Before coming to Xiangjiang, Suming had specifically done his homework, looking up numerous travel guides online and conducting a series of preparations.

This little stall on the corner of Hennessy Road was run by a mysteriously devoted fat boss who had specialized in cart noodles for twenty-five years, setting up his stall come rain or shine, serving only cart noodles and curry fish balls, and attracting countless regulars. As a result, even the Hennessy Road police were too embarrassed to drive him away and tacitly allowed him to set up shop there.

To do the simplest things to perfection, that's art.

"Try the curry fish balls again... Wow, they really taste different from what we usually eat..." While Suming was talking, he had already wolfed down the seven fish balls in front of him and turned to shout at the boss, "Two more servings of fish balls, please."

"Damn kid, eating so fast, how can your uncle keep up! Wait a minute!" The fat boss shouted back without lifting his head, his hands moving like the wind among the steaming pots, the steam billowing around him like a hermit from another world.

Nangong Yan's mouth was already stuffed full with just one fish ball, her cheeks puffed out as she struggled to bite but didn't dare to, asking worriedly, "Is it going to explode?"

"It's not a 'pee-cow' meatball; what's there to explode?"

With one bite, the freshness of the fish and the aroma of the curry instantly spread through her mouth. Fresh and smooth, Nangong Yan's mouth could hardly stop; she opened her mouth and fanned air into it nonstop, trying to cool down the somewhat hot fish balls while pulling on Suming's sleeve and pleading, "It's so delicious, what if we can't eat this again? When you go back, you should start a fish ball shop too!"

That was not a bad idea indeed—fish balls made from the fish in Shuijun Lake would definitely be fantastic!

But where to find a chef with skills like the fat boss's?

Such skilful master chefs usually have odd tempers, and even if you offer a high salary, they might not be willing to join.

"Loser, don't talk about your uncle behind his back. I'm old, but my ears aren't deaf!"

The big, fat boss appeared behind them out of nowhere, slamming down two large plates of freshly-made fish balls onto the table, followed by banging down two bottles of soy milk with a thud.

"Well, considering you have some taste, your uncle will give you two drinks on the house."

"Thank you, Uncle!" Nangong Yan said with a smile, looking up.

...

Half an hour later, two bowls of cart noodles were polished off to the last drop of soup, and all four plates of curry fish balls were devoured without a single one left.

Nangong Yan was like a koala, holding onto Suming's arm with one hand and half-hanging off him, pouting with cheeks full and complaining, "I'm so stuffed! I'm going to die; now I'll gain so much weight that I won't be able to get in front of the camera when I get back!"

"That's what you get for gobbling down three plates of fish balls in one go—too late for regrets now!"

"But they were really good, you know? Why do the exact same fish balls taste so much different in Yangchuan compared to here?"

"Of course, that's why they're called time-honored brands."

"Anyway, I'm so full, I need to digest. Where are we going tonight?" Nangong Yan, sitting on a street bench, took off her high heels to rub her feet.

"You're this tired and you still want to go out?" Suming gestured toward the nearby L'hotel Nina et Convention Centre and asked slyly, "How about we head to the hotel a bit early to settle in?"

"Fat chance, we're getting separate rooms at the hotel! Besides, it's only five in the afternoon, settle in my ass!"

Putting her high heels back on with a show of spirit, Nangong Yan jumped up, hands on hips, and pointing at the distant skyscrapers, she exclaimed loudly, "I want to enjoy the nightlife of Xiangjiang!"

When it comes to nightlife, there are two prime spots in Xiangjiang.

The first choice is Lan Kwai Fong Bar Street along Queen's Road, an L-shaped alley filled with a variety of bars, where countless handsome men and beautiful women release their abundant energy under the stimulation of neon lights and alcohol, living youth to the fullest.

Clearly, that's a place to bring Su Meng or Wang Hao, but definitely not Nangong Yan.

Plus, Suming wasn't too fond of drinking himself.

"So, where to?" Nangong Yan asked.

"Haven't you heard the saying? Chase stars in Seoul, bet on horses in Xiangjiang. Since we're in Xiangjiang, how can we not go bet on horses at the Happy Valley Racecourse!"

—————Separating line—————

Shit, I actually forgot what I was going to say—was it soliciting votes, subscriptions, or something else??? Oh, it seems like Mother's Day is around the corner. You guys should go home if you can, or make a phone call if you can't! Wishing all mothers around the world good health!