[The Girls' School Teacher] (Episode 14, Chapter 11)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Chapter Eleven: The Rebellious Girl The Japanese have a very good attitude towards accepting new things. This has been especially true since World War II, as evidenced by the abundance of French and Italian restaurants

everywhere . 　　My father once had a very vivid satire of Western food: a bunch of people huddled together, cutting and slicing a tiny piece of meat on a plate, clearly wanting to just grab it and eat it with their hands, yet pretending to be refined. They even wear special —isn't that just asking for trouble? 　　The characteristic of Western food is small portions and many varieties: red wine, appetizers, main courses, pastries, desserts… actually , it's not much in total, and the order of eating cannot be disordered, and etiquette cannot be ignored. I, like my father, find a bowl of beef noodles with large chunks of semi-fatty beef, fresh braised bamboo shoots, and a drizzle of bright red chili oil much more satisfying than Western food. 　　There are many good places to eat Western food in Japan, and the French restaurant at the Imperial Hotel is definitely one of them. The Imperial Hotel is quite interesting. It boasts over a dozen restaurants serving 　　Chinese, French, Italian, Brazilian, Indian, and other cuisines. Not only are the decor tailored to the customs of each country, but the chefs and waiters are all from that country, striving to perfectly present the ambiance of their homeland. 　　Entering the French restaurant, Iwashita Haruka added another point: all the utensils used were from that country . Even the raw materials were all air-freighted from there within 24 hours. 　　Perhaps this preservation of authenticity is why so many foreign dignitaries and business elites from various countries enjoy dining here. 　　Tokyo is an open, global metropolis. Of the nearly 30 million people in the greater Tokyo area, at least 3 million come from all over the world. No other city in the world can accommodate so many foreigners… Of course, if you include illegal immigrants and undocumented immigrants, the number would only be higher. 　　To cater to these people's tastes, the streets and alleys of Tokyo are always filled with the aromas . One could even exaggerate a bit and say that the clouds in the Tokyo sky are formed from the smoke and water droplets emitted during the cooking of various dishes. 　　There are many types of Western cuisine, but the most representative are actually only two: Italian and French. 　　Italian cuisine emphasizes pasta, while French cuisine leans towards meat. Both are good; it just depends on personal preference. 　　Iwashita Haruka had booked a table at a French restaurant. She joked that men are all carnivores, so steak , oysters, and foie gras would be perfect for her. I chuckled inwardly. Sister, don't you know? Those dishes you mentioned are all good for nourishing yin and yang. If my wives were here, it wouldn't matter, but now I'm living an ascetic life; what use are these? 　　Thinking this, I still sat with her at the couples' table in the restaurant. 　　Japan's small land area means that most restaurants don't have separate private rooms and main dining areas… Of course, in a Chinese restaurant, they definitely have to, but in a French restaurant, there aren't so many rules ; everyone prefers to dine in the main hall. 　　Westerners usually have their main meal in the evening; lunch is generally just a cup of coffee and a sandwich. 　　But in Japan… Many customs naturally follow local traditions. The Japanese, who have adopted Chinese eating habits, also eat a proper lunch, especially the wealthy and powerful, who never neglect lunch, which explains the prosperity of their restaurants. Even though it wasn't yet 2 PM, the restaurant, at least 600 tsubo (approximately 333 square meters), was already 70% full. The central group was filled with blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners, while those near the windows were mostly Japanese. 　　All the kitchens at the Imperial Hotel are transparent; either cooking takes place in the center of the restaurant or on a separate side, allowing everyone to clearly see every step of the cooking process through the glass . 　　Wherever you look, Iwashita Haruka is a stunning beauty. Since we entered, many eyes have followed her, and those looking at me were mostly filled with envy and jealousy. 　　Little did they know that this quiet and graceful beauty was actually a cunning serpent, controlling the lives of the Iwashita Haruka members and ruling over four vast districts. 　　Iwashita Haruka ordered Marseille lamb chops and veal steaks, as well as oysters and foie gras, but it was just for me . She, however, had placed the soup of the day and fruit salad beside her, looking quite refreshing. 　　The women around me, looking at my food, all smiled knowingly, thinking how considerate their girlfriend was, knowing how to boost her boyfriend's stamina. 　　As a yakuza boss who was often under the scrutiny of others, Iwashita Haruka possessed remarkable composure, simply looking at me and talking to me—a demeanor that undoubtedly made many envious. 　　After a while, the restaurant gradually filled up, and apart from a few seats marked "Reserved," it was almost empty. 　　The Imperial Hotel wasn't cheap; I glanced at the menu on the table. A single Marseille veal steak cost one hundred US dollars. For Iwashita Haruka and me, a meal would easily cost one thousand US dollars. If, like some people , we ordered a bottle of French vintage wine, it would be even more expensive. 　　However, there's a saying that's very true: for the upper class, dining isn't just about the food, but about taste and style. Being able to dine here is a symbol of status in itself. If it's a romantic encounter or a business meeting, the success rate here is more than 50% higher than outside… 　　Iwashita Haruka is incredibly talkative, knowing a little about everything from Tokyo folklore to French cuisine. Dining with such a cheerful and outgoing girl is truly a pleasure. 　　Suddenly, a slight murmur arose around us. 　　Iwashita Haruka's eyes darted around, and she spotted something. She smiled slightly, unconsciously: "Toshio, look, the young men and women in Japan these days are so fashionable!" 　　I turned to look, and saw that everyone's attention was focused on a couple holding hands. They were quite young, maybe fourteen or fifteen at most, and not very tall. 　　Besides their young age, there was another reason everyone noticed them: the girl was incredibly beautiful. Beneath her stunningly beautiful face was a radiant smile. Although she wasn't yet at the age of full bloom, she already possessed a captivating beauty.

Compared to his girlfriend, the boy seemed quite timid, even a little nervous. Looking around

timidly, he made it obvious he'd been dragged there by the girl.

The bright, beautiful girl led the boy through the crowd towards us,

settling him at a reserved table about five meters away.

As the girl expertly picked up the menu to order, the surrounding gazes gradually dispersed, many people smiling knowingly

– kids these days really know how to enjoy life.

I suddenly remembered who this somewhat familiar, bright, beautiful girl was.

It was Nabeshima Miho, a fifteen-year-old third-year student at Sakura Academy Junior High, also known as the school beauty.

I was interested in her because I'd met

this .

Not only did I recognize Nabeshima Miho, but after the initial amusement,

a hint of doubt flashed in Iwashita Haruka's eyes, and she only looked away after a few glances.

Iwashita Haruka and I ate slowly, and with our conversation, time flew by.

The two little ones next to us were eating with great enthusiasm, ordering dessert even before we did.

The more I looked at them, the less I felt that Nabeshima Miho and the boy she called "Ryohei" seemed like a

couple. Because! A normal couple wouldn't have the man so timid and fearful, and Nabeshima Miho wouldn't be so

domineering, even deciding what Ryohei ate and drank.

Throughout the meal, Nabeshima Miho kept praising Ryohei, saying he did well and urging him to keep it up, but Ryohei's

replies seemed somewhat distracted.

Ryohei had a habit of looking around suspiciously, like he was doing something wrong.

Just as Nabeshima Miho was deciding to order two more desserts, Ryohei's expression suddenly changed, his mouth agape as he stared

at the other side: "Miho...Miho..."

The bright and beautiful girl frowned, wanting to scold him, but then noticed the surrounding noise

had grown . Curious, she glanced behind her and was horrified to see a middle-aged man with over a dozen burly men in black

aggressively pushing aside the obstacles and charging towards her.

"Oh my god!" the beautiful girl gasped. She quickly stood up and whispered to Ryohei, "Calm down, calm down

, don't be afraid, I'm here." Her words were both to encourage Ryohei and to encourage herself.

The moment she saw the ashen-faced middle-aged man, Iwashita Haruka finally confirmed her suspicions.

The middle-aged man swiftly approached Nabeshima Miho. His men scattered, glaring fiercely

at those who had cast curious glances. Most of them, unable to withstand the menacing look,

quickly looked away and lowered their heads to eat.

The Imperial Hotel's rise to fame in Tokyo was impossible without some powerful backing.

Just as the middle-aged man was coldly watching Nabeshima Miho and Ryohei, a manager in his

fifties . When he saw the middle-aged man's appearance, his heart skipped a beat.

Duty dictated, the manager, though uneasy, could only step forward and say, "Mr. Nabeshima, you've

come in such a menacing manner, are you here to smash up my shop?"

I and Ishishita Haruka both recognized the man; he was Nabeshima Seiun, the third vice-chairman of the Sumiyoshi-kai,

and the father of the beautiful girl they were dating.

Nabeshima Seiun didn't even glance at the manager.

"Get out of my way, I'm here to see my daughter, don't bother me."

The manager hesitated, looking at the trembling yet trying-to-be-composed girl, then at the ashen-faced

Nabeshima Seiun, before saying, "Mr. Nabeshima, could we perhaps talk in the small room next door? It's not appropriate

here , is it?"

A thought flashed through Nabeshima Seiun's mind. Thinking that this was indeed not a suitable place to discipline a child, and about to agree to

the manager's request, Nabeshima Miho panicked. Going to the small hall, she wondered what her father would do to Ryohei

; absolutely not.

"No, no, I'm not going there!" Nabeshima Miho shouted. "You can say what you want to say now.

I'm all grown up now; don't interfere so rudely with my boyfriend. Don't hit him!"

A little girl will be a little girl; she said she wasn't afraid, but she actually revealed what she was afraid of.

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/82637.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=82637&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : [The Girls' School Teacher] (Episode 14, Chapter 9)

Next Page : [The Girls' School Teacher] (Episode 14, Chapter 10)

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

[The Girls' School Teacher] (Episode 14, Chapter 11)

comment Open a new window to view comments