"Sir, sir, what's wrong with you? Is it that the dishes don't suit your taste?" The waiter was startled by Sang Biaohu's expression and hurriedly asked with concern.
"Cough cough, it's nothing, I'm not eating anymore, check please, check please!" Sang Biaohu was utterly baffled—how could anyone rush to eat this kind of lousy food? And it seemed like they were all enjoying themselves too. Could it be that they were actually chasing after this kind of thrilling flavor? Had everyone in Ming City gone mad?
The waiter, not understanding the situation, could only agree and quickly went to speak a few words with the cashier before returning with the bill, mustering the courage to say, "Sir, here is your bill, please review it!"
Sang Biaohu carelessly took the bill, but the amount almost made him flip the table in shock! This few strange-tasting crappy dishes actually cost damn ten thousand yuan!