"What did you give me to eat?" Song Xincai's wide-eyed inquiry was identical to Gao Zhengang's before.
Su Wen couldn't be bothered to respond, but Gao Zhengang, with experience, instructed, "This guy gave you a laxative, hurry to the bathroom, or you'll embarrass yourself!"
Unfortunately, Gao Zhengang still overestimated the middle-aged uncle Song Xincai's ability to hold it in.
Before he finished his warning, Song Xincai had already let loose several toxic gas bombs. By the time he realized something was off and thought to run to the restaurant bathroom, the deed had already made its escape.
The teahouse, which had been fragrant with breakfast, suddenly filled with an unimaginable stench.
All eyes followed the smell and then fell upon Boss Song, a figure "respected for his integrity" in town.
"Mommy, did that uncle poop in his pants? This smell is so much worse than mine," a three or four-year-old child asked in a whiny voice.