Simulate the operation of Beebo Street

Where the milk tea shop originally stood, there are only some dismantled building plates and broken bricks left. The milk tea shop, which was bustling with customers a few days ago, quietly left as it appeared suddenly, like the sea. The bubbles are as friable and frivolous.

Zhong Ye stood blankly in front of the store, not knowing what it was like in his heart.

He didn't sleep well last night—no, it should be said that he suffered from complete insomnia.

No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what went wrong, even so, he always felt that he still wanted to say something to Yuri.

He thought he would find a chance to talk to her at the milk tea shop, but after tossing and turning until dawn, what greeted him was this situation.

Construction workers in hard hats and neon vests are still bending over to remove the last walls and table boards.

Chuya jumped over the fence with one arm, and grabbed the construction worker by the collar: "Hey, where did the store that was here go?"

"Huh? It's been dismantled."

"Nonsense! I'm asking you, why did you tear it down?"

The construction worker whose work was interrupted felt baffled: "If it is demolished, it will be demolished. When it was built, it was said to be a temporary bunk. It has been in operation for three weeks, and yesterday was the last day."

Oh, that's what happened.

It seems to have heard her say it.

Nakaya let go of his hand, slowly left the location of the milk tea shop, and turned back towards the buildings of the port mafia.

Before he got there, someone caught Chuya on the shoulder unexpectedly.

"What?"

Chuya put his hands in his pockets and said indifferently without looking back.

It's a pianist.

"I'm really not vigilant, Mr. Gemstone Merchant, the gemstones will be snatched away next time."

"I'm not in the mood to chat with you today."

Zhong Ye turned to leave, but was pulled back: "The leader said he wanted to see you. I came here to inform you of the news."

After a dull pause for two seconds, Chuya digested the meaning of his words, so he turned around and walked towards the central building where the chief's office is located, but the back seemed to be a little bit lost.

"What do you want to drink at the party tonight? Order it first, so that I can arrange it for you in advance."

Behind him, the pianist asked with a smile.

What an annoying smile as always, I really want to punch him.

Chuya squeezed out a voice through his teeth: "Tequila! Add absinthe!"

Then strode huffily through the revolving door and out of sight.

Inside the restaurant in the center of Leibo Street.

"Is that so?" Yuri stared at the steaming soup bowl, showing a rare suspicious expression.

"Isn't it just this? Russian borscht." Xing Ping Chuangzhen touched the back of his head, a little confused.

The bright red and clear soup base has a slight purple hue, exuding the mellow aroma of beef broth with strong penetrating power. Large pieces of stewed potatoes and beef slightly protrude from the surface, indicating the richness of ingredients in it, and carrots , celery, tomato, beets and onions sank shyly to the bottom unnoticed.

The most special thing is that on top of this bowl of hot color like boiling magma, a large spoonful of sour cream is gently poured in the middle, like a small island of pure fresh snow floating on the volcanic lava, a dark green Dill is carefully inserted into the thick cream, and it is the only small tree on this isolated island.

Blowing gently, Yuri put a spoonful of soup into her mouth, closed her eyes slightly to feel the wonderful taste.

The taste of the soup is sour and sweet. The broth is made from big stick bones with bone marrow and slightly fatty beef brisket, and then filtered through gauze until it is clear to the bottom. The red vegetable soup made from the broth has its own charm A breathtaking aroma.The melt-in-your-mouth potatoes and beef bring a sense of fullness, and the sour cream added at the end adds a different milky and slightly sour taste to the sweetness of beets.

"The soup you made is also very delicious, but I think it's different from the version I had before." She snapped her fingers, "The soup I drank didn't have beets, only tomatoes, No sour cream either!"

"I see." Xing Ping Chuangzhen nodded, "What you tasted before was a Chinese improved version of Russian beetroot soup. The name... seems to be called borscht? It is said that it was introduced into China from the area bordering Russia. Lu, and finally arrived in Shanghai. It is a famous dish in Shanghai's improved Western-style cuisine."

The case has been solved. The Russian dish that Yiping used to make at the beginning is indeed an improved version of red cabbage soup.

"That's right, that's right!" Yuri became happy, now she knows

How to restore the borscht, "Use tomato paste instead of beets for coloring, and then add sugar to make it taste sweet and sour. If you put some potatoes in the soup base, you probably don't need to add flour to thicken it. "

Speaking of improved recipes, Xing Ping Chuangzhen is not sleepy.

"In addition to ketchup, there are also rumors that cherries or cranberries are used as red coloring agents... try it some other day!" He said excitedly, while tapping his palm lightly.

Yuri imagined the soup boiled with cherries, and couldn't help shivering: "Let's forget it! Could it be that the Dark Cuisine Challenge you have suspended for a long time is about to reopen?"

"I can take on the role of a judge, but it's a pity that there is still a lack of an opponent who can rival Soshin-kun." Sakamoto said from nowhere, wiping the glass in his hand with a fine cloth.

That's right, these people in the restaurant now don't have the ambition and talent to cook dark dishes—unlike Dazai.That guy put all his love for self-sharks into the creation of dark cuisine. Last time he said that he wanted to make the world's first hard tofu, which is comparable to human Tianling Gai. I don't know what kind of research he has achieved progress.

Then again, the Port Mafia has been quite busy recently, so Chuya and Dazai don't come here to eat very often.

When thinking of Chuya, I couldn't help but think of the roller coaster-like date, Yuri sighed softly, and couldn't tell whether it was regret or what it was like.

There was only one thing for sure—she still couldn't take that step towards him without hesitation.

So, wait for the time to reveal the answer.

Now she just wants to focus on making money.

However, the two are no longer friends, to what extent will the relationship between them regress because of her one thought...?

On the booth outside the kitchen, the young man wearing a fur hat smelled the aroma of beets and beef soup, and his expression froze a little.

"Sorry, I want to go to the bathroom." He said apologetically to his friend across the table.

The distance from the hall to the kitchen was only a dozen steps. The young man lowered his eyelashes and walked steadily.

Then at the entrance of the restaurant, I happened to meet Yuri who was carrying beetroot soup and was going back to the room.

Yuri, who is often in a daze recently, turned around and almost turned the soup over

Go to the young man to wet his thick velvet cape.

"My guest, I'm really sorry!" Yuri said hastily.

The tall but slender young man was standing in a position that just blocked the light.He lowered his head slightly, staring at Yuri, without speaking.

He raised his hand slightly, as if he wanted to support the other party, but he stopped at a small angle restrainedly. If he didn't pay attention, it would be difficult to detect his movement.

"May I ask what else is there?" Yuri was a little confused.

After staring at it for a few seconds, a smile that didn't reach his eyes overflowed from the young man's lips: "I have a small request—may I ask if I can replace the music with Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto?"

"Oh, yes, so you like Rachmaninoff."

Without much thought, Yuri readily agreed.

The young man nodded, ready to turn around and return to his seat.

"Wait a minute." She said suddenly.

The young man with his back turned to Yuri had cold eyes and stopped in his tracks.

"If you spend in this store today, you will be given a [-]% discount voucher for the milk tea shop opposite. Please take it well."

Almost forgot today's distribution task.

Yuli temporarily put the tray in his hand on the preparation table next to him, took out a sheet from the thick pile of colored paper, and handed it to him with both hands.

Since all the special requirements are met, I'm always embarrassed not to accept it, right?

The young man nodded.Reach out for the flyer.

The hand presented to her was as perfect as a sculpture, with well-proportioned bones, slender fingers, white and delicate, as slender and handsome as its owner—this pale young man.

Yuri could not help but be drawn away by his hand.

That hand gently pinched the edge of the coupon and pulled it away.

When he returned to his seat, the friend with long white hair opposite him was staring at the scenery outside the window with his chin resting on his hand.

"It's been a long time." Fyodor nodded after taking his seat.

"I really like the Japanese cuisine in this store. It has the gorgeousness of French cuisine, and the chef's ingenious intentions and imagination can be seen everywhere."

Shibusawa Tatsuhiko didn't look back, he was still looking at the unique and strange street scene of Leibo Street.

"If possible, I would like to live a life of eating at this restaurant every day."

"But who put it in the center of the vortex?"

Fyodor, who was watching the white-haired young man quietly, took up his words, his red eyes were as mellow as the table wine in hand, so alluring that they seemed to be able to confuse people's minds.

"Above the ocean, where the currents swirl and sink low, they are destined to be pulled down by the mighty power of nature and fall asleep in the dark and lightless seabed. Isn't that the most beautiful ending?"

"Let's pay tribute to the last good food."

Fyodor tilted his head and smiled.

"With this shallow glass of wine."

At the restaurant during the peak period of noon flow of people, all the guests who came here are full of seats.The sound of the collision of bowls and chopsticks, the sound of talking and laughing while eating, and the piano music of Rachmaninoff flowing gracefully like fine silk, interweave into the smoky scenery of the world.

The quiet piano music is slightly inconsistent with the lively atmosphere, sometimes delicate and beautiful, sometimes broad and passionate, like the vast land under the Russian moonlight.

They clinked glasses lightly, but no one heard them.