Blind Date
Wang Zhiyuan trailed behind Lin Moran as they headed downstairs, and sure enough, the dining table was decked out with an array of takeout boxes.
Lin Moran pulled out a chair with flair and casually handed Wang Zhiyuan some chopsticks.
Wang Zhiyuan gave the spread a once-over; there was a smorgasbord of dishes - veggies, meats, fish, poultry - the works. "Hold that thought, I'm grabbing some soy sauce." He plonked the chopsticks on the table and darted into the kitchen. The kitchen resembled a war zone post-battle, an absolute train wreck.
He shot a glance at the trash can, the keeper of kitchen secrets – and this time was no different. The top layer was home to some ribs that were so charred they could pass for coal. Underneath was a fish that looked like it had seen better days, with flesh that was poked and torn as if it had been through a shredder. He didn't dare look any further, fearing it might put him off his dinner.