Lin Fei had just finished speaking when Xu Yingying and Xu Jiao burst into fits of laughter, completely unconcerned about their image, while Yu Haoming's face turned utterly dark, as black as the bottom of a pot. The bar staff found it funny, too.
In the bar, one could meet all kinds of patrons, but this was the first time a waiter had encountered someone like Lin Fei who requested milk.
Of course, there had been customers who ordered milk before. But Lin Fei's request was to serve a glass of milk for Yu Haoming, even though there was no three-year-old child present. Everyone knew exactly what Lin Fei meant.
The young waiter in uniform glanced at Yu Haoming and said to Lin Fei with a smile, "Sorry, sir, but we don't serve baby formula here."
"We don't serve baby formula..."
