"Perfect timing!" Zhang Ji Xin slapped Zheng Qing's shoulder enthusiastically, attracting his attention, and handed him a glass: "Try this first, it clears the lungs and removes the dust."
"What's this?" Zheng Qing held the glass in both hands, examining the swirling pearl-coloured gas inside, unsure of what to do.
"Mist... Mist Liquor." Zhang Ji Xin, with a heavy tongue, picked up another glass from the bar and handed it to Xiao Xiao: "It cleanses the lungs, invigorates the blood, and is ideal for guys like you who can't drink alcohol."
"Can't drink alcohol?" Zheng Qing's face reddened: "Last year, I drank a jug of baijiu, the 60-degree kind, with my grandfather!"
Saying this, he shook the glass indignantly, preparing to drain it all at once.
Zhang Ji Xin reached out and grabbed his arm.
"My bad, my bad! My apologies!" The flushed boy raised his index finger, swaying it, the corners of his mouth forcefully pinned downwards, he earnestly added: "Let me drink in honour first!"
