Zhuo Feng was rather hasty in her actions. The result of hanging up the phone too abruptly ant that even after she had been cut off by Feng Xing, she still didn’t know which Quanjude branch Zhuo Feng had gone to.
There are several Quanjude roast duck restaurants in the city; it’s impossible to search through the entire city.
Fortunately, Feng Xing thought that since Xiao Xian had just arrived in Beijing not long ago, Zhuo Feng must have taken her to a bustling area and perhaps also for so shopping, so he rushed to the most lively Quanjude restaurant located in Wangfujing.
The Quanjude in Wangfujing is the liveliest place to eat roast duck in Beijing City. At the entrance stands two majestic stone lions, and upon entering, there is a glazed floral gate, which carries a bit of an ancient charm.
For Xiao Xian, eating roast duck was sowhat novel. The practice of cultivation emphasizes cleansing one’s desires, and there were plenty of masters who abstained from worldly food. She was the only one who couldn’t help thinking about grains. While at Yunteng Sect, the richest at she had was fish caught from Yunxi — clean the scales, skewer it on a stick, grill it, and it was the tastiest.
As for her ti in Ge Village, what Sister-in-law Lian often made was duck soup in the style of Guangdong, adding dried bamboo shoots or mushrooms and simring for several hours until the duck was tender and the soup delicious. Before eating, they would skim off the layer of oil on top with a soup ladle; it was both tasty and beautifying.
To celebrate her smooth enrollnt, Zhuo Feng recomnded eating roast duck and described Quanjude’s roast duck as glorious, especially emphasizing the crispy and aromatic duck skin, which she spoke of with an almost exaggerated excitent.
As soon as they entered, unfortunately, there were no available seats. She grudgingly said, "The roast duck here is genuinely good, but coming here is about the na, like the saying ’He who has not been to the Great Wall is not a true hero,’ one can’t claim to have eaten authentic roast duck without coming to Quanjude."
After finally getting seated, Feng Xing hadn’t arrived yet, so the two of them drank tea and looked around.
Most of the people eating roast duck at Quanjude were foreigners and tourists from other parts of China; the majority of the Beijing locals would not choose such a famous and expensive restaurant.
This Quanjude restaurant in Wangfujing is famous nationwide, hosting many celebrities from various countries. The walls are adorned with a dazzling array of photos, so black-and-white ones from around the ti of the founding of the nation showing state leaders entertaining foreign dignitaries.
When Feng Xing entered the restaurant, it was already seven or eight o’clock, and business was at its best. The parking spaces outside were filled, and his little Alto had to be parked on a Jing Alley two streets away.
All afternoon, Zhuo Feng was jumpy, and her insides had all but lost sensation. By the ti she sat down at Quanjude, slling the aromatic sliced duck and seeing the sweat-drenched Feng Xing, she was in good spirits and didn’t complain much. She pushed the nu in front of Feng Xing, as she and Xiao Xian had already ordered, knowing despite her usual grumbles about Feng Xing, he had had a hard day at work.
The cold dishes she had ordered first were served: crystal duck tongue, crucian carp, saltwater beef, and seaweed shrimp roll tips.
The crystal duck tongue, different from the Wenzhou duck tongue Zhuo Feng often ate, was set in jelly. The jelly was cut into square strips, placed on a plate, and drizzled with a layer of sesa oil and fresh soy sauce upon serving. She picked it up with the tip of her chopsticks lightly. The jelly at the center bounced up from both ends, the cool and savory taste is especially refreshing in sumr. Even Feng Xing montarily forgot the theory that consuming too much lymph from animals could cause cancer.
The taste of the roasted crucian carp was only standard; it couldn’t match the skill of a typical night market stall, as the cooking was slightly underdone, making the flesh too mushy. The cold dishes were quickly wiped clean, and with the main dish - roast duck - entering the scene, accompanied by several hot dishes and white duck soup.
Zhuo Feng had ordered a whole duck, and the roast duck master ca pushing a cart, holding a knife set, and started slicing the duck on the spot. The freshly roasted duck looked enticing with its jujube-red skin still glistening, and the sharp knife blade lightly tilted against the duck’s body, the skin attached to the at just ca off.
The entire roast duck was quickly disassembled into a carcass, along with several dishes of sauces and plates served together.
Xiao Xian’s eyes were greedy as she watched, and copied people at the neighboring table by picking up a piece of roast duck wrapper. The wrapper, viewed against the light, was as thin as a piece of paper. With the addition of thinly sliced Beijing scallions and sweet bean sauce, it was a feast for the eyes, nose, and mouth.
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