Master Rang, and the middle-aged woman he was speaking with, referred to the slow dining restaurant that Su Ziceng stumbled upon earlier when she stepped out.
With an understated front, adorned with colorful stained glass and an emblem featuring a snail signifying the slow-dining concept, the establishment had its operating hours listed on the business sign. At the entrance, there stood a wooden board displaying the chef’s recommendation of the day.
"This is Master Rang’s favorite restaurant. It doesn’t look remarkable, but the onion soup and lamb chops taste truly authentic," Su Ziceng discovered during the conversation that this middle-aged woman was Master Rang’s assistant of over twenty years, Miss Bao Qin, who had bonded with him through their collaborations. Despite Master Rang’s gentle appearance at that moment, he had the typical unpredictable temperament of an artist.
The restaurant was nearly full when Su Ziceng and her companions arrived, just in time to snag the last available table. Master Rang was quite pleased about it, dancing around like a child, "Good thing we got it, otherwise we might not have found a seat even by ten o’clock."
Such slow dining establishments are the antithesis to British and American fast food places, focusing on allowing guests’ every taste bud to luxuriate in the deliciousness of the food, rather than numbly stuffing food into one’s mouth in a race against time. Here, one could sit for hours with lovers or friends, until the food in their stomachs was fully digested, and then stroll along the Champs Elysees listening to the whispers of falling leaves.
Despite being crammed in a narrow alley with limited space, the owner had still managed to install a small stage at the center of the restaurant. Under the warm lighting, a part-time violinist played endlessly, with the scent of dishes wafting over, making one forget where they were.
During the wait for their meal, Master Rang occasionally shared some amusing stories. It was Su Ziceng’s first time encountering such a witty personality since arriving in France, and the setting made her feel relax; she often couldn’t help bursting into laughter at Master Rang’s humorous tone.
Once in Paris, she seemed instantly infected by the local vibrant atmosphere, tossing aside her reserve and cool demeanor. Her clear laughter, contagious as it was, drew the attention of nearby tables.
Miss Bao Qin mostly watched quietly with a smile, her gaze tender yet reserved, observing these two "children" of vastly different ages.
Hang Yishao also spoke a few words, but gradually fell silent. Leaning on his left hand and tilting his head, he watched Su Ziceng, who was shaking with laughter, revealing her neat tiny white teeth and trembling long hair. Her cheeks reddened from frequent smiling, and her slender hand moved restlessly between her mouth and knees, her eyelashes quivering lightly.
Drinking a rosemary tea recommended by Master Rang, Hang Yishao felt a tipsy sensation as if he were intoxicated by alcohol, just by listening to Su Ziceng’s laughter. He enjoyed watching her laugh, his own lips unconsciously mirroring her smiling curves. The two young people facing each other slowly and repeatedly shifted expressions.
Suddenly, Master Rang stopped laughing. Su Ziceng was puzzled, thinking perhaps the service was slower than usual. Hang Yishao paused too; he glanced at his watch and was about to signal to the waiter to hurry up when he heard Master Rang exclaim exaggeratedly.
"NO, Mr. Hang, you are not only slow but also very rude." Master Rang feigned injury, "It’s impolite to remind an older person of how quickly time flies."
Hang Yishao felt somewhat embarrassed. Facing such an old sly fox like Master Rang, he instantly turned into a green inexperienced youth.
Master Rang waved his hand which bore no watch or any time-keeping device, "I don’t even carry a cellphone. I’m a person who has lived through World War II; time is no longer important to me. My designs do not need time; they only need eternity, they are meant to make time chase after them."
"Peter, you must not scare this young gentleman again," Miss Bao Qin chided.
"Ladies, dear ladies," Mr. Rang again waved his hands, "Do you know why I prefer Paris over London? Let’s set aside the differences between British chips and a French feast for a moment."
Su Ziceng and Hang Yishao were both baffled by his offbeat question.
"Because London has the Big Ben, oh that thing, centuries old, and every time I walk the streets of London, I can feel the terror vibrating through my eardrums as time ceaselessly chases after me," Master Rang grabbed his collar, mimicking suffocation.