Song Youman stood with one foot on the stool and one on the ground, flipping through the menu like a boss, "This, this, this, and this... they're all An'an's favorites. Order all of them, but remember, no onions!"
As he was playing a card game against two imagined opponents, Han Zhijin muttered softly, "How come you only remember what An'an likes to eat and not what I like?"
"I get the impression that there's nothing you wouldn't eat, except shit." Song Youman ordered a few more dishes, then closed the menu and signaled the waiter to place the order quickly.
"How can you say that!" Han Zhijin protested, pouting, but continued his solo card game.
"What's wrong with the way I talk? Am I wrong? Do you actually like to eat- shit?" Song Youman looked at Han Zhijin in surprise.
"Stop talking to me!" Irritated, Han Zhijin moved to a chair further away, using the distance to express his annoyance.
