"What's this about big biscuits?" Zhao Youcai quickly cut in. "Those don't go with drinking, anyway."
Zhao Jun gave his father a long, hard look. He'd felt the old man had been acting strange the last few days. As they'd say in the Northeast, he was 'up to no good'.
Meeting Zhao Jun's gaze, Zhao Youcai grinned at him, then turned and reached with his chopsticks to grab some meat from the basin.
Zhao Youcai was a chef; he knew all sorts of common ingredients like the back of his hand. He picked up a piece of meat, but stopped abruptly as he brought it to his mouth.
Zhao Youcai turned the piece of meat over for a look, then looked at Wang Meilan in surprise and asked, "Is this dog meat?"
"What are you talking about?" Wang Meilan shot him a glare and said irritably, "Since when have we ever eaten dog meat in this house?"
When Zhao Youcai turned to look at Zhao Jun, Zhao Jun smiled and said, "Dad, give it a try. It's Red Dog meat."
