At a private barbecue restaurant in Xicheng District.
Professor Chen sat there looking helpless. Every so often, he picked up his phone to check the instructions from his wife—and the time while he was at it.
The siblings sat opposite him, huddled together.
"Ten skewers of kidney, twenty skewers of banzhuang, half a pound of grilled eel, and two spicy-and-sour grilled pig brains. Professor Chen could use the brain food." Chen Shu studied the menu. "And ten skewers of pork shoulder, ten of pork belly, five of scallion-wrapped intestine, and ten of pork snout tendon."
"You've ordered everything. What am I supposed to order?"
"Order whatever else you want. Don't worry about the money."
"I'm worried we won't finish it..."
"I'll pack up the leftovers."
"Then I want an eggplant, some tofu with a molten center, and two skewers of tiger-skin chicken feet."
"Why so stingy? Why stand on ceremony with me? Let's get fish roe braised with wild patchouli, and a grilled fish too." Chen Shu was exceedingly generous. "You're paying, after all."
"If you can't finish it, I'll pour it up your nose."
"I'll pour it into your eyes!"
"Into your ears, then!"
The siblings were having a grand time bickering, but Professor Chen's headache only grew worse. As the hour grew later, he could almost feel the Sage Ancestor Cube calling to him from the Historical Cultural Relics Administration's storage room—calling to the first person in five thousand years to read it from the beginning.
But these two clowns had him trapped.
"What are you thinking about, Professor Chen? Those books aren't going anywhere. Enjoy your barbecue, get a good night's rest, and settle your mind before you read them slowly. That's how you'll get more out of them." It was Chen Shu's voice.
"Read them slowly,