Zha Qing remained expressionless, sidestepping to make room.
"Brother Gongga, what brings you here?"
"Brother Zha Qing, my nose is keener than a snow-plain mastiff's. I came back from outside and caught a whiff of something fragrant from your room, like you were having hot pot. The greedy worms in my belly couldn't help but raise their heads, so I came out to join the fun, bringing two jugs of good wine along. I step inside, and sure enough! If you ask me, hot pot is all about the lively atmosphere. Shutting the door on yourselves—what's that about? Stingy!"
Li Gongga hoisted the wine jug. His face was extremely dark, skin coarse, cheeks flushed red, and two black eyes embedded in puffy lids darted about restlessly. Zha Qing replied, half exasperated, half amused.
"We're strangers here, haven't been in Hantai Prefecture even half a year, and don't know many people. The three of us brothers can only shut the door and drink a little wine by ourselves."
"Well, you've got me now, haven't you!"
"Hahaha, you're right. Come, Brother Li, have a seat."
Fan Zixuan pulled out a stool.
"Kou Zhuang, go fetch another set of bowls and chopsticks."
Zha Qing poured the wine, picked up the platter, and slid in the beef and mutton, his eyes sweeping downward.