"Jiang Feng, have a piece of yellow throat, it's especially delicious when cooked in the spicy hot pot!"
"Do you want to try this Chinese cabbage, Jiang Feng? It's super flavorful after being thoroughly cooked in the spicy pot!"
"Little brother, how about some lamb rolls?"
"Younger brother, would you like some pork intestine?"
"Feng, why aren't you eating? These quail eggs are really tasty, especially when cooked in the spicy pot."
"Feng..."
Jiang Feng had never so profoundly realized that being popular could actually be a painful thing.
As the bowl in his hands got heavier, and the originally clear soup turned redder, the pungent and thick unique scent of the beef tallow hot pot began to linger at the tip of his nose, refusing to dissipate. Jiang Feng felt as if his every breath tasted of hot pot, every word he spoke tasted of hot pot, his whole being enveloped in the flavor of the Shu spicy hot pot. The nightmare he experienced in his dreams looked set to become reality.
