Chen Xu grabbed another piece of red paper and wrote "2003 Noodle Shop" on it. He took a ladder and pasted it over the old sign.
Chen Ziqi came out with a bowl in her hands and looked up, "2003? That's not right, I was born in '04."
"You sure like to joke."
Chen Xu couldn't help but laugh out loud, almost sticking the red paper on crookedly.
"But honestly, I find it hilarious that you'd open a noodle shop on a street full of barbecue joints. Will people even come here to eat?"
Chen Ziqi said, taking a bite of her noodles, "Though the taste is alright, who'd want noodles late at night? Everyone's out here for snacks. If not barbecue, at least make porridge or something."
"You don't know how? What about century egg and lean pork porridge, fish slice porridge, or fresh shrimp porridge?"
"Still don't know? You must know how to make stir-fried rice noodles at least."
