The night has fallen, and the streetlights illuminate the county town streets. People coming off work scurry back and forth. Those with some free time either call on friends or relatives, forming groups of three or five to flock to restaurants of all sizes.
The Mingde Hotpot Restaurant is already filled to capacity. Several waves of people approach the counter, asking when tables will become available, and the female owner can only offer accompanied smiles and apologies.
In the pot, the bright red chili oil is bubbling, giving off steaming heat. The diners, sweating profusely, frequently call the waiter to add more water or dishes, while the busy waiters dart around inside and out, occasionally bumping into customers and quickly apologizing, "Sorry, sorry."
"No worries." The guest smiles. He is a middle-aged man around forty, with a crew cut and a square face, looking clean and efficient. He approaches the counter and asks, "Ms. Li, business is good, is there any seat left?"
