Because Su Ming had solved his problem, Zheng Xian generously treated him to a fine meal.
Even the lamb they ate was the finest young meat in the Imperial Capital.
Zheng Xian had not brought anyone else. The two sat at a small street-side table on the third floor like ordinary folks, chatting and eating together.
In public, Su Ming's appearance drew quite a few curious looks. Naturally, neither of them discussed anything serious. They merely talked about romance, scenery, poetry, and songs.
As a man from the Ming Dynasty, Zheng Xian had no idea how many generations he had lowered himself by calling Su Ming brother. Ancient scholars generally had a strong interest in poetry.
It was just that he still had work to do that afternoon and could not drink, so he ate the little fat lamb quite politely.
"What are your plans for the afternoon, brother? How about I arrange a place for you to stay a few days?" Zheng Xian dipped both sides of a slice of lamb in sauce, put it into his mouth, and began chewing.
"This afternoon? I'm planning to visit an old acquaintance in K'un-Lun, then return to Honolulu tonight. You know I've been over there these past two years. Kamar-Taj is a little too quiet."
Su Ming swished a piece of lamb around in the pot. Hotpot lamb really did need a copper pot.
"At least the air there is pretty good. Unlike the Imperial Capital. In a few more years, I'm thinking of moving headquarters out over the South China Sea." Zheng Xian sounded somewhat helpless. There had been more and more cars in recent years, and the air quality was becoming a real headache.
"Right, speaking of that, how have things been with those little devils in Japan these