woman wearing irish linen shirt

Dinner is arranged at the restaurant of SCC.Miss Pender kindly invited me to try their curry broth, and I certainly took the cue and didn't suggest changing places.

Besides, where can we go instead? Could it be that if we change to another place, we don't have to fight tonight?

There is a dress code within the club, but it is also regional.At this restaurant tonight, the requirements are as low as "please don't wear collarless T-shirts and slippers", we are ladies, and the rules are more relaxed.

To save her embarrassment, I didn't wear a skirt.I always wear it like this in the company. The skirt without a slit at the back slows down my pace and relieves some pressure on my colleagues.But on the other hand, I want to put some pressure on her—but she is neither a colleague who needs to be taken care of nor an HR who desperately lowers my salary. What can I do?

Thinking of my repeated failures, I was a little discouraged, so I just went to dinner at night, put on a pair of loafers and left.

Miss Pender's figure was tucked into a linen shirt and washed jeans, cut like a 50 from the fifties.My eyes lit up and I said, "You are definitely the best-looking person in jeans on this street."

When I said this, my heart was still, I made up my mind not to be fooled by her beauty.I couldn't shake her in any fashion, but I heard Miss Pender say, "Thank you, Fudge girl. I like your shirt."

She meant that I dressed like a model in Fudge magazine.It was so similar, I took it as a compliment and thanked her.

I glanced down at my feet. Her jeans were draped up to her ankles where the loops of the sandals were fastening.Considering her height, the pants probably haven't been changed, so I greeted: "Is it 701?"

"Yes, LVC." She looked back at me. "You can recognize it from the fabric? The denim looks to me in the same weave."

"There are only a few ready-to-wear brands that use narrow denim to make women's jeans, mainly because of the tailoring." I answered her casually, "But there should still be many patterns in the weaving of twill..."

As always, she listened carefully and discussed with me from time to time.With a cold heart, I waited for her to make a move.

The curry broth is indeed a signature of SCC, with the prefix "Club Special" written on the menu.I seldom eat Indian or Malay food, I heard that there are hundreds of types of traditional curry, definitely called the art of spices.The history of curry expansion is closely related to the British Navy. I occasionally eat Japanese curry once or twice, but I can’t talk about tasting it.

Tonight's curry must be killer.

"Do you like spicy? I'm not sure if this one is too spicy. If you don't mind, you can taste mine first and then decide." Miss Pande was still bewitching as always, bluntly saying that she was willing to share food with me, as if she Really happy to be close with my pro.

"Thank you. You're so thoughtful, but I'll just have the staples you recommended earlier." I smiled and said, "I'm not going to hide, to be honest, I pretty much survived on tacos in America. Jalapeno helps I had a lot of final seasons where I didn’t want to eat because of the lack of sleep.”

"Have you ever tried a devil's pepper?" she asked.

Sure enough, everyone from an area with a traditional spicy food can't escape the desire to win and lose "Where can I eat spicy food more?"Not to be outdone, I said, "Have you tried Shabu Shabu?"

"Shabu Shabu hot?" she repeated after me.

"It's a pepper from Yunnan Province. Yunnan is, I mentioned it last time when we talked about tie-dye..."

"I know," she said. "There's a lot of non-ferrous metal out there, and it's a nice place. Southwest of the mainland, isn't it?"

She now knows as much about Yunnan as I do.I said, "You're right. It's a very hot chili anyway."

Miss Pan De didn't seem interested in how hot the shabu shabu was, or whether it was comparable to the devil's pepper.She just nodded and asked, "Is Yunnan your hometown?"

"You must have never heard of it," I said. "I'm from Langfang. I used to go back there every year when I was a kid, but I grew up in Beijing."

Foreigners usually give up when they hear this, and assume that I am from Beijing.But Ms. Pan De seemed willing to learn more about such a strange city, and asked, "Is Langfang a city or a province?"

"It's a city. It's very close to Beijing, between Beijing and Tianjin. My hometown is called 'Petroleum'." I deliberately said Chinese, "It only takes one hour to Chaoyang CBD."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but the words came out: "Then the people of Langfang must be easily misidentified because of the huge city next to them. I will remember."

I was a little surprised.I thought she would say that rounding up there is Beijing.

At this time, Miss Pender said again: "How do you write 'oil'? Can you write it to me?"

I subconsciously stopped holding the pen, what is she doing, humiliating me?I remained calm, touched the phone, thought about it, typed the word "Wanzhuang" and sent it to her chat window.

"Petroleum" is our local name, and that area is called Wanzhuang.

Miss Pan De pointed at "Wan" and said, "Shi."

I nodded.

She jumped to "Zhuang" again and read: "Oil."

My heart, which was still cold just now, warmed up again. This is really a bit funny, but it seems too long-winded for me to explain, so I also nodded and said, "Perfect pronunciation."

"Oil." She looked at me and blinked suddenly, "Oil. I seem to be getting better at it."

I couldn't help laughing.It sounds like "it's you" in Tangshan dialect, and there is a mixture of Chinese and English.

"What?" She was a little annoyed, "Why are you laughing? Did I speak so badly?"

"No no," I suppressed a smile, "I'm sorry. You read it well, but it would have been perfect if the accent had been adjusted a little. 'Oil'."

"Petroleum." She studied it again seriously, and finally, looking at her phone, she nodded solemnly, "I remember, Petroleum."

I felt that I was a villain just now, and my mood was a little complicated. I said, "May I know where you are from?"

"I was born in the west," she added shortly afterwards, "not Mumbai."

Fortunately, I didn't guess the words, I stuck out my tongue, and Miss Pan De obviously realized this before she said it first.She looked at me with a smile for two seconds and said nothing.

"What's wrong?" I don't know why.You won't be angry, will you?It is not good for me to subconsciously assume that the other party is from Mumbai because they have distinguished Langfang from Beijing.I looked at her a little guilty.

"You're cute when you—" She probably wanted to make a move, but held back, just smiled more broadly, and said, "Well, when you stuck out your tongue."

I froze and said, "Thank you."

She shook her head slightly.Miss Pande looked away and said, "I'm from Ahmedabad in Gujarat. Gujarat is a very ordinary state. For foreigners, Gandhi may be the most famous."

"That's already very famous." I really didn't know anything about her hometown, so I laughed at myself, "The most famous one in Langfang is a poet, and frankly, I can't even recite his poems."

Of course I can recite it, if you want to see a thousand miles, you have to go to a higher level.But what if she asks me to translate?

Miss Pender was amused by me.I don't know what moved her, maybe it was my expression, maybe she just likes the happy appearance of an intellectual who doesn't pretend to know everything.I felt a little relieved when the curry broth was served.

Yes, I looked down at the main food, the yellow broth is attractive, how does it look like extremely spicy food?

Why am I letting my guard down again?

Among the daily specials at SCC today, there are two kinds of Indian dishes. Miss Pande ordered vegetarian mutton curry.She was going to share this with me, but it seemed much spicier than my broth - and at this point she looked at me with interest and concern.

Is it really that spicy?

I skipped the soup and tasted a piece of chicken.fine.She seemed relieved.

Did Miss Pender say nothing?I find it strange.

I certainly wouldn't take the initiative to bring this up.Although she is equivalent to grabbing me as a handle, and sooner or later the situation will fall to BCG; but now she is asking me after all.I accepted the invitation, that's another story, but everything is unknown now, and it would be too timid for me to rush to mention it.

Or is she just so sure?I will definitely promise her?

I looked at her quietly.Miss Pande always spooned curry and rice into her mouth evenly, brushing her hair from time to time, showing her concentration.Her food looks delicious.I don't know if it's really delicious, but just looking at her makes me feel hungry.

I don't like Indian food.The famous curry broth didn't strike me as anything special, and Miss Pender's manner of eating was elegant, but I just felt a rush of hunger.Her lips became redder, and a grain of rice stuck to the back of the silver spoon, which she licked off.I took a big sip of the soup.

Well, this time I know why she is worried.It is indeed a bit spicy.

Very spicy.I choked.

"Are you okay?" The water was immediately handed to me, and Miss Pender looked concerned.

I suppressed my cough and drank some water. It was still itchy, but I had to be patient.I restrained myself from coughing, swallowed another big mouthful of water, and said, "Thank you. I'm fine. Spicy tastes better."

I didn't dare to look at her at all, but that's how it was last time, and that's how I lost in the locker room of the badminton court last time.I collected myself, looked at her, and smiled: "I forgot to thank you for hosting me here. This is really a very nice restaurant, very relaxing."

A little light flashed in Miss Pender's deep eyes: "It's better here during the daytime. If you are free sometime, we can come over for a cup of afternoon tea."

"I'd love to," I said, "but in what capacity?"

She looked at me, unable to tell what kind of expression it was, she seemed to be smiling, but she didn't seem to.I saw her lips that were reddened by the pungent parting slightly, and said, "What kind of identity do you want?"