Sima Pastore de Ovelhas

Lin Zixuan invited an old classmate to dinner at a Japanese restaurant called “Asakusa Imaza” located in the western part of North Zhicheng. The owner was a Qin national who had self-funded a culinary apprenticeship in Japan, returned with a gilded sheen, and possessed considerable cooking skills. He maintained strict quality control and proudly claimed his establishment was one of the top ten upscale izakayas in North Zhicheng, with an average spending of around a thousand yuan per person—an amount that deterred most salaried workers. The hostess, dressed in a kimono with exquisite makeup and flamboyant charm, clasped her hands in front of her—left hand over right—and bowed deeply before gracefully leading the two men to the “Ogi Yellow” private room.

“Asakusa Imaza” featured nine private rooms of varying sizes: “Kanhi,” “Kawazu,” “Yoshino,” “Shidare,” “Sekiyama,” “Yaee,” “Fugenzo,” “Yukon,” and “Ogi Yellow.” The smallest room, “Ogi Yellow,” was ideal for two or three people to share a quiet drink. The guests removed their shoes and stepped onto the tatami mats. Against the wall stood a low table with a rectangular recess beneath it, allowing diners to stretch their legs comfortably while sitting on cushions, sparing them the awkwardness of cross-legged seating. The coziness of the private room lay in the wall directly behind the cushions, providing a comfortable backrest without the need for rigid posture that could lead to aches by the end of the meal.

When ordering, Lin Zixuan casually asked if there were any dietary restrictions. Sima did not bother to b