Yang Feng started to feel torn and distraught. The money for the meal alone had come mostly out of his own pocket, nearly ten thousand yuan, which was no small sum.
Now he had to fork out this much again, and looking at his classmates around him, Yang Feng felt a shiver run down his spine. Expecting them to cough up nine thousand for singing?
Forget it, they'd probably scatter with a whoosh, and then what's the point of singing?
The waiter, seeing Yang Feng's expression, couldn't help but sneer. He had seen plenty of this type, blowing their money to put on airs, only to end up embarrassingly short.
"Sir, are you going to sing or not? If you're not singing, we have plenty of people waiting for this luxury room."
The waiter couldn't help but say coldly, his attitude a far cry from the respectful one he had earlier. Such was the harsh reality.
