After sniffing the scent, he sent the pup away.
Zheng Qing's mind finally returned to the store, pondering over the business situation.
He had noticed the sparse 'staff members' in the store earlier that day—even without customers, the employees shouldn't be slacking off and leaving their stations.
"Where is everybody?"
The young store owner drummed his fingers, knocked on the wooden surface of the bar, and asked with a stern face to Hank, who was always buried in the accounts, "Where are the employees? The cats, and the mice? I remember there should be three cats and four mice in vests in the store."
Hank, who hailed from Greenhill Mansion, always cared deeply about etiquette.
