Ni Yang had her steak cooked medium-rare.
Considering that it was Ni Cuihua's first time eating steak and she might not be used to it, Ni Yang ordered one that was well-done for her.
Well-done?
Upon hearing this, the waiter showed contempt in his eyes.
Just some country bumpkins, dressed up smartly but that flashy exterior couldn't hide the sour stench of poverty about them.
"I'm sorry, but we don't serve well-done steaks here." The impatience was escalating in the waiter's eyes.
In the year or so he's been working here, he'd hardly encountered customers who ordered their steak well-done.
Even medium-rares were fine.
The best way to enjoy a steak was to have it rare.
"How come there's no well-done steak?" Ni Yang slightly tilted her head up, her eyes twinkling with a captivating spirit.
The waiter felt somewhat oppressed as if facing a superior.
Was it an illusion?
She clearly looked a few years younger than him.
