Chinese mainland. Qiao Xiyue silently played with the medium-rare steak on the plate. The fork was rusty and black as a loach.
Dong Zihan took the poor piece of meat away from her fork with his hand, and answered vaguely while eating: "You don't eat such a elastic steak?! Is it a sin to waste food?"
"Woo, classmate," is fluent English mixed with harsh Chinese, "This steak... Well..., A maggot."
"Mani?! There are maggots!" Dong Zihan looked at half of the worms still wriggling on the steak, and his stomach was churning: "I didn't expect that I, who is super Lucky, would be so bad lucky!! It seems that I have been punished for pretending too much... Vomit... Let me vomit first..."
Qiao Xiyue tilted her head and said, "I don't understand. Ah, you can't eat maggots, right? Looking at what you just ate with gusto, I suddenly doubted the authenticity of the encyclopedia. Is that really edible? Is it delicious? Do you Chinese eat like this?"
"It's delicious... It's super delicious." Dong Zihan held his stomach in extreme exhaustion. I'm sorry, my fellow Chinese, I accused you of being a maggot-eater. What a sin! There is no greater sin than this!
"Ah? Do you still want it? I also have some experimental articles about cooking, and they have those kind of walking bugs, so I might as well give them to you to eat!"
"Ah... No! Thank you, you can eat it yourself!" I saw an extremely pale face running wildly through the streets of London.