Six-pack?

"Chen, what's wrong?" Fali looked at Chen Zhao, confused. Chen Zhao's expression had just changed wildly, as if something big had happened.

"I feel like I've just lost 1.2 million," Chen Zhao said with a long face.

Dell continued to hurt Chen Zhao on the other side of the phone, "Chen, you can't just enjoy that wine yourself. Do you want me to go over or do you want to come here?"

"Maybe tomorrow. Fali and I are having candle dinner now."

"What? Have you already opened the wine? Don't finish it. Leave some for me!"

"Don't worry, we didn't open that bottle. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Chen Zhao complained.

"I only found it out just now."

It was too late anyway. Chen Zhao had already poured the 1.2 million red wine away himself.

Nevertheless, he still took out the original bottle and poured the Spring of Youth into another bottle.