Slap, slap, slap, in less than a minute, Liu Mou had recited the names of all the dishes served here, mentioning the grand dishes costing thousands, the smaller dishes worth hundreds, but not a word about anything cheaper. It was like a slap back in the profligate's face.
"Hmm, not bad, just as you described—all of them, I want every single dish brought out, don't miss any," said the profligate, growing increasingly upset with his awkward smile, so he had to have everything brought to the table.
"Of course, please wait a moment," Liu Mou said with a slight smile, bending his body as he walked out. He closed the door, cast a malevolent glance at it, then began to jot down the dishes he had just described on a piece of paper. Among those he had just mentioned were four soups, which meant that after today, they would all develop a psychological shadow about this place.
