Although he had made up his mind to leave this place of heartbreak, Klein ultimately failed to step outside the door of 6 Daffodil Street. His feet stopped in the entryway.
An aroma he knew all too well, yet which should never have been here, spread through the air and seized his attention.
It was a rich, steaming fragrance that blended the heaviness of beef tallow, the numbing aroma of Sichuan peppercorns, and the intensity of fried chilies, with occasional traces of the mellow, savory scent of meat.
Klein slowly turned his head and saw that the long glass table in the middle of the living room had somehow changed:
The cups of sweet iced tea and lemon cake that had been there were gone, replaced by a round, two-handled iron pot set over a stove.
A divider split the pot in two. On the left, the clear broth had a faint whitish tint; on the right, a red broth churned at a rolling boil.
Meat and vegetables bobbed in the bubbling broth on both sides, giving off an enticing aroma...
Lin Chuan was sitting beside the table, calmly using a pair of wooden chopsticks he had obtained from somewhere to pick up a cooked meat roll and drop it into the bowl in front of him.
After lowering his chopsticks, he looked up at Klein, who stood dumbfounded by the door, and smiled, asking with an air of puzzlement:
"Didn't you say you were leaving? Why are you planted by the door? Standing guard?"
The corners of Klein's mouth twitched violently twice. He reached back to close the door of 6 Daffodil Street, strode into the living room, and sat down opposite Lin Chuan before asking with utmost sincerity:
"I was only joking just now. Is it too late