Under Song Xue's lead, the two of them took the elevator to the third floor of the Chaoshan Cuisine Restaurant.
"Xingyang, I've been here with Xiaoqi and the others a few times, they all say it's authentic here."
"Is it that good?"
"Haha, you'll know when you try it."
Walking in, they saw many waiters and chefs busy, and there were dozens of diners, mostly Chinese faces, with a few Caucasian ones.
The two were about to find a spot to sit.
Zeng Xingyang admired the entrepreneurial spirit of his fellow Chinese, it seemed like you could find them doing business or working in countries all over the world.
Zeng Xingyang, wearing sunglasses, a hat, and a down jacket, hadn't attracted much attention while walking in the mall, after all, without wearing a jersey, foreigners would have face blindness towards him.
But once he arrived at the hot pot restaurant, he was immediately recognized.
"Xingyang!"
"It's really Xingyang, hey."
"Come to eat, Xingyang."
