"Come on, Senior, try this fatty beef. It's not bad at all." Lu Mingfei used his chopsticks to point at the thinly sliced beef he had just dropped into the pot.
"Those duck intestines are good too," Chu Zihang said, picking up a portion with his chopsticks. He gave them a quick dip in the boiling hotpot broth—neither tough nor gamey, they had a tender, smooth texture and an alluring aroma.
Right then, inside Caesar and Chu Zihang's dorm, three men and two women were having a lively hotpot meal. The broth was extra spicy, the aroma of Sichuan peppercorns filling the entire room. All five of them were sweating profusely, having long since forgotten the fierce tension of "Freedom Day." In America, April temperatures generally hovered below twenty degrees Celsius, and it wasn't quite time to turn on the air conditioning. The AC filters hadn't been cleaned yet and were caked with dust and mites, so they had no intention of turning it on.
Chapter 117