After three rounds of drinks, five dishes have been tasted.
In the small room, steam rose from the pot like white mist, and a whole pot of meat soup had almost been consumed, leaving a rich aroma in the air.
Old man Xu squinted his eyes, his nose red. When he opened his mouth, the scent of alcohol pervaded his breath.
"Uncle Xu, why don't you find yourself a companion? With your cooking skills... even the women of Wild Donkey Alley would want to spend their days with you..." Zhou Dao laughed heartily, his face red.
He hasn't had such a satisfying meal and drink in a long time.
"If the women of Wild Donkey Alley wanted to spend their days with you, they must have already exhausted themselves, leaving them dry and powerless..." Old man Xu shook his head: "They can't handle that kind of stress anymore..."
"Uncle Xu, you're not making sense." Zhou Dao looked up, staring deeply at him.