Chapter 222: Authentic Cuisine That’s Not So Authentic (Part 2)

“You drink, I’m full…” Zhao Qingfeng burped, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. To him, fermented bean milk was nothing but sour green juice, the mere smell of which was nauseating.

“Okay, then you’ll just have to watch me drink!” Shen Lingyao said triumphantly. “Boss, let’s have… um… two bowls of bean milk, make them thick, and two fried dough rings. I want to see if the food in Beijing is really authentic!”

The shopkeeper was a young woman wearing tight clothes, with tattoos on her arms and dyed blonde hair, exuding a rock vibe.

“Just a moment, little sister!” The shopkeeper smiled, turned around, and served two bowls of bean milk.

After grabbing two fried dough rings and placing them on a small table at the entrance, she said, “You two must be tired after walking around the food street. I have a fan here; I’ll bring it out for you so you can rest a bit longer.”

“Thank you.” Zhao Qingfeng paid the bill and watched Shen Lingyao intently as she took a bite of the fried dough ring, crunching away, then lifted the big bowl filled with bean milk to her nose, sniffed, and skeptically took a sip, leaving two green and white streaks like a small mustache on her mouth.

“Does it taste good?” Zhao Qingfeng asked with a smirk.

“…” Shen Lingyao took just one sip before deciding not to continue. If her memory served her right, it tasted somewhat like the rag her mother used for washing dishes.

“Brother Qingfeng, this is Beijing’s authentic cuisine?”

“Yeah, it’s delicious, isn’t it? Look at the mustache you’ve got there, green!”

“Brother Qingfeng, come here a bit.”

“What for?”

“Just try it, hey!” Shen Lingyao, taking advantage of Zhao Qingfeng’s approach, lifted her lips lightly to his, transferring the leftover bean milk from her lips to his mouth, “Ha ha ha, we’re good brothers, sharing both the good times and the bad. Try it out!”

Zhao Qingfeng managed not to vomit.

Now it was his turn to sport a mustache.

“Ha ha ha!” Shen Lingyao laughed mischievously, making a face.

“I’m going to give it back to you!” Zhao Qingfeng, not to be outdone, moved closer, rubbing his mouth and face against hers several times.

Such sweetness.

This elicited an amused smile from the shopkeeper, a woman in her thirties.

“Youth is wonderful…” Onlookers on the food street cast envious glances their way.

“Are you full now? What shall we do next?” After taking a few more sips, Shen Lingyao held her stomach, pretending she couldn’t drink any more.

Zhao Qingfeng was about to answer when suddenly, the sound of guitar playing came from inside the shop.

Turning to look, they saw the shopkeeper, taking advantage of a quiet moment, gently strumming the guitar strings, attempting to play a song by Jay Chou.

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