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Zhao Ziwu raised a bright green scale. The gray-yellow bird "Killer" on the wooden roof flew away as if it had seen a ghost, flapping its wings and circling overhead while crying out in panic.
Hearing the panic in the bird's cries, Lin Xiaoya puffed out her cheeks and said angrily, "Zhao Ziwu, you scared Killer!"
"It wasn't me, it was this!"
Zhao Ziwu hurriedly showed her the scale in his hand.
Lin Xiaoya asked in confusion, "What is that? It scared Killer this badly?" Her complaints against Zhao Ziwu eased somewhat. She could also tell that the scale in his hand seemed unusual.
"A dragon scale. I borrowed it from Li Bai!"
Zhao Ziwu secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't misunderstood him.
"What kind of dragon scale? You don't actually think it came from a dragon, do you?"
Lin Xiaoya was still skeptical. The green scale in his hand probably came from some kind of giant snake, maybe even a rare green anaconda. It was so vivid and translucent that it looked as if it had been meticulously carved from the finest imperial green jade.
What era was this? Even if dragons really existed, shouldn't they be simmering in a pot?
For the Chinese, no matter what kind of dragon it was, the place it belonged most was a pot. Preparing a fine pot for every dragon was a duty of the Chinese people.
Whether or not the national totem was a dragon, and whether or not people believed in dragons, weren't there already plenty of dragon dishes in Chinese cuisine, with all sorts of dragon-themed names?
Meat Loong, Dragon-Tiger Fight, Flying Dragon Soup, Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl, Longjing Shrimp, dragon bone stew... Anyone who didn't know better might think they'd held