Upstairs in the private room, the large wooden round table was loaded with all kinds of fine dishes. Sitting at the host's seat, Lei Hao looked distressedly at the food before him. It felt like he wasn't eating dishes, but his own flesh!
It wasn't wine he was drinking, but his own blood!
This single meal had eaten up half a year's salary.
While others tightened their belts for the latter half of the month, he had to tighten his belt for the next half-year.
What a pathetic captain of the Owl Dragon Team he was.
Thinking, Lei Hao glared fiercely at Huo Beijiang sitting beside him, feeling like killing him. He had seen thick-skinned and black-hearted people, but never anyone as bad as this. Wasn't a simple meal at a small restaurant enough?
But this guy had to choose the Imperial Palace.
Was he not asking for death?
