The middle-aged man also did not know how to respond. He had managed his stall for half his life already, and this was the first time he had come across such a request. "If you have nothing else, go. I don't sell the kind of cleaver you want."
"Then, can you sell me the cleaver you normally use?" Chen Ge was determined. Before the livestream, he had to obtain a cleaver regardless of whether it turned out to be useful or not.
"How am I going to operate this stall if I sell you my cleaver?" The middle-aged man just finished when a young man with dyed hair pushed through the crowd. He looked about nineteen, and his jacket was tied around his waist as he yawned. When the young man appeared, the middle-aged man slammed the cleaver on the cutting board. He wiped his hands on his apron and walked toward the young man. "You still know your way back home? Where were you last night‽"
