"The customer never orders alcohol from the stall, saying it tastes like horse urine," Mrs. Yan whispered, a smile spreading across her face.
Hearing the term 'horse urine,' both Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu glanced at Boss Han who was chugging alcohol, and they both burst out laughing.
The alcoholic strength of the beer wasn't high, but after seven or eight bottles, one's feet might start to feel floaty, and Boss Han's face was already beet red, resembling Lord Bao with a flushed face.
"Madam, time to settle the bill, settle the bill," a customer from another table hollered, unclear whether his military flask had run out of alcohol.
Just as Mrs. Yan was about to go over to settle the bill, she heard Yan Wuxu saying, "Mom, you rest your hand; I'll take care of it."
The dishes on the customer's table were not many: a plate of fried red-skinned peanuts, ten skewers of salt-and-pepper grilled prawns, and a cold kelp salad, totaling up to US$ 66.
