After sitting down, Hans shouted, "Alakba, two spicy chicken fried rice, two grilled lamb sticks, one fried lamb meatball."
A man wearing a little white hat and a thick, large beard turned his head toward them. Speaking in broken English, he repeated, "Chicken fried rice, spicy. Lamb stick—what flavor?"
"Spicy!"
"Okay, spicy!" The man turned back, and with two middle-eastern children, began working.
Hans said, "The fried rice and grilled meat from this stall have quite an authentic middle-eastern flavor. The lamb meatballs are crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Trust me—later you’ll fall in love with the food here."
Li Du smiled. "We’ll see."
This night market could remain in such good business mainly because the side stall owners didn’t have to pay taxes for it, since the employees from the tax agency had already left work.
