"Young man, is there any more of this medicine left?" asked an elderly man next to Mr. Ming, his eyes shining brightly.
"No," Qin Han decisively shook his head. There were six other elderly men present, and if he had said there was more, probably none of them would be left out.
If that were the case, Mr. Ming's birthday celebration would likely have been completely overshadowed by Qin Han. The old folks might have forgotten about Mr. Ming's birthday and turned their attention to Qin Han instead.
"It's true, how could such a miraculous medicine be in abundant supply?" The flustered old man sighed regretfully.
Qin Han simply smiled and said nothing. Although he could produce the medicine at any time, the process was too cumbersome and energy-consuming. Having given away five and kept five, he had enough, and he really saw no need to please anyone with them.