The dinner was expensive, but there was logic in its extravagance, it was incredibly sumptuous.
There were four people in total, with a staggering eighteen dishes, of which thirteen were meat dishes, the rest being vegetables and soup.
Furthermore, the portions of each dish were not small, even more substantial than the dishes at Huang An's old northeastern home.
Huang An's whole body felt weak and sore, particularly his legs, which felt like noodles, with throbbing pain in the muscles, and his chest felt as if it was about to split open.
Despite the physical pain, Huang An was very happy in his heart.
The pain he experienced now differed from the previous ones.
The pain of martial arts training signified that he was one step closer to alleviating his illness, or even recovering.
While each previous bout of pain signified another second of his life fading away.
"Eat!"
The instructor, who seemingly emerged out of nowhere, waved his large hand, grabbed a bun, and began eating.