"Sizzle."
A large spoonful of hot oil slid down the tower of piled-up chili and Sichuan peppercorns into the milk-yellow colored pickled cabbage fish, instantly releasing a slightly pungent, hearty aroma.
Yang Ge, holding the spoon, turned around to scoop up the second spoonful of hot oil from the smoking pot. But in the moment he turned his head, Zhao Cha appeared from nowhere, leaned over the steaming bowl of pickled cabbage fish, and vigorously sniffed the robust aroma with her shiny nose, "sniff-sniff" she went.
"Hey... don't drool into the bowl."
Yang Ge pushed her away with disdain, pouring the second spoonful of hot oil into the second pot of pickled cabbage fish. "If you want to eat, use the chopsticks!"
Zhao Cha's eyes lit up, and she pulled out the chopsticks she had prepared from behind her, picked up a snowy white slice of fish, and popped it into her mouth, where it was so hot that she stuck out her tongue: "Ah, delicious, delicious, delicious..."
