The food in Zhao Cheng'an and Xia Sheng's bowls was the same, lard-fried greens, looking vibrant and fresh. On top of the greens lay a piece of tofu drizzled with sesame oil, white and tender. Next to the tofu was bacon-fried dandelion, the bacon sliced thinly, noticeably eight parts fat and two parts lean, very oily but not very appealing in appearance. In the corner was a scramble of egg and chives, more chives than egg strands.
Even the beans underneath the dishes were a mix of yellow beans, coix seed, and white rice—truly a luxurious bean-rice dish.
Very decent food.
From Zhao Cheng'an's satisfied expression, Qin Huai could tell he was very pleased with today's meal, scooping each spoonful full and stuffing it into his mouth, cheeks puffing slightly as he ate heartily, not quite wolfing it down, but at a very fast speed, like a whirlwind.
