After the hotpot meal, Nanahara Takeshi opened the window to let in some fresh air. The chilly breeze of late April in Hokkaido entered, slightly lowering the room temperature, but Kiyomi Liuli didn't mind at all. She just felt warmth in her belly and laziness in her body, wishing she could just lie back and close her eyes for a bit.
However, as a young girl, it would've looked terrible to flop down and rub her belly in front of a boy right after eating. She couldn't accept that, so she had to sit up straight, holding onto her warm barley tea and humming to herself silently.
She didn't know why, but she really liked eating this kind of hotpot. The lamb was so fresh, the dipping sauce so fragrant, together they were simply unbeatable!
The Japanese gourmets didn't know what they were missing; why hadn't they promoted this kind of hotpot on a larger scale? It was criminal, they ought to be taken to a crossroad and shamed.
