When the student in front of Zhang Ye turned around, he received a shock, “Heavens, it’s Teacher Zhang. Go ahead first!” He gave way.
Zhang Ye waved his hand and smiled, “I’m not going to add threes. Thanks.”
The words “add threes”, which meant cutting in line, was Beijing slang.
After more than ten minutes, it was finally his turn. Zhang Ye ate simply. He only wanted a platter of assorted dishes. “Sir, two bowls of rice, a portion of Kung Pao chicken, and a portion of fried eggplant.”
The attendant took a look. “Hey, it’s Teacher Zhang. Sure, I’ll give you a bit more.”
“Thank you very much.” Zhang Ye did not stand on ceremony. He then carried the stainless steel tray to look for a spot to sit.
The canteen was not small, but it could not hold that many people. There were already no empty tables. There wasn’t even a place to sit. Many students were standing behind people who were about to finish eating.
“Teacher Zhang! Here!”