Putting some ’Zing’ into Beijing

It’s one o’clock on a clear night, one of those rare occasions in Beijing when the weather is neither too hot nor too cold. I decide to get some exercise and walk home after a nice relaxing dinner with friends. As I’m strolling past the south gate of Ritan Park, I notice the lights are still on at a place I haven’t seen before. ’Zing’ it reads. I try the door, thinking that one more for the road won’t hurt. Cautiously making my way past a row of tables flanking a row of gargoyles to my right, I am greeted by a charming