"This bottle is exquisite—is it made of glass? What is written on it?" Tong Zhenye's face was red, and he gasped in admiration at the bottle.
When he hiccupped, his breath was laden with alcohol.
"The blood of courage? In that case, I must try it!"
He took a gulp. The concentrated alcohol hit his mouth and cut his throat all the way to his stomach like a knife. Then, he felt the fire inside.
"Pah…"
"What kind of a thing is this?"
Tong Zhenye was startled. This couldn't be considered as wine—it was like swallowing knives! This Zhao Prince Consort was really ruthless!
The crowd didn't know what was happening, so each person took a mouthful of wine.
"Pah…"
"Pah…"
The sound of wine being spit from their mouths was endless!
