Lanterns inscribed with the character for "meat" hung on the wall, and the simple wooden tables and chairs were painted a dark red. In the crevices of the floor tiles, unidentified bugs scuttled across.
The air was thick with the aroma of meat, teasing the taste buds. Han Fei stood at the doorway, his instincts telling him that this restaurant was not safe.
From the outside, the dumpling shop was unremarkable, but once inside, Han Fei realized the space was quite large.
The haphazardly arranged wooden tables bore faint grease and dirt stains, as if someone had just eaten something there.
Given the thick layer of grease, it didn't seem to be dumplings.
When Han Fei entered the shop, there were other customers there, but they paid no attention to Han Fei, burying their heads and devouring the contents of their bowls with such ferocity, as if they would eat their chopstick-holding hands as well.
"This way, please."
