The waitress quickly brought over a pot of Longjing Tea, but when she set down the teapot, she looked at Lin Feng with undisguised impatience and disdain, probably because serving Lin Feng delayed her from cozying up to the young masters.
A pot of Longjing Tea costing over two thousand, yet Lin Feng had no interest in drinking it, and he was even less accustomed to the false social interactions in the lobby. He stood up and left. As he walked out of the courtyard, he heard the waitress gossiping quietly, occasionally casting disdainful glances at him.
Lin Feng had come to realize that his reputation as a poor doctor freelancing for meals and drinks had already been well established through Liu Zhihao and the waitress's spreading the word.
Once he was in the courtyard, the surroundings quieted down; it was not that he was afraid of losing face, but he simply couldn't stand to look at their expressions.
