Chapter 84: Such a Drunkard

"The customer never orders alcohol from the stall, saying it tastes like horse urine," Mrs. Yan whispered, a smile spreading across her face. Hearing the term ‘horse urine,’ both Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu glanced at Boss Han, who was chugging alcohol, and they both burst out laughing. The alcoholic strength of the beer wasn’t high, but after seven or eight bottles, one’s feet might start to feel floaty, and Boss Han’s face was already beet red, resembling Lord Bao with a flushed face. "Madam, time to settle the bill, settle the bill," a customer from another table hollered, unclear whether his military flask had run out of alcohol. Just as Mrs. Yan was about to go over to settle the bill, she heard Yan Wuxu saying, "Mom, you rest your hand; I’ll take care of it." The dishes on the customer’s table were not many: a plate of fried red-skinned peanuts, ten skewers of salt-and-pepper grilled prawns, and a cold kelp salad, totaling up to US$ 66. "Put my leftover kelp and peanuts into a bag so you don’t cook them again." The customer kept burping as he spoke, a strong garlic scent wafting from him, his military flask still situated on the low table. Su Ziceng glanced at the few remaining peanuts and kelp, cursing under his breath, "stingy miser." Yan Wuxu, accustomed to such customers, bagged up the leftovers in two plastic bags—one for each dish. However, during the packing, she accidentally bumped the flask, which still had some liquor left in it. With the touch, it spilled on the ground. Fortunately, there wasn’t much alcohol left, only about two or three sips, moistening a small patch of the beach. "What’s wrong with you?" The customer seized the opportunity to make a fuss: "You spilled my alcohol; you need to compensate me." "It’s just a few sips of alcohol, right? If compensation is needed, then it’s settled. Why the fuss?" Seeing Yan Wuxu being bullied, an alcohol-fueled Boss Han rapidly approached, stumbling into the customer. Both were inebriated; their tempers flared with loud voices, ready to come to blows at the slightest provocation. "Let’s talk this over nicely," Mrs. Yan, noticing the customer was a regular and that Wuxu had spilled the alcohol first, tried to mediate. "Uncle Da Gen, let us know how much the alcohol costs, and we will compensate." "I’m also a regular of the lady boss, and I’m not nitpicking over this. There were three sips left in there; let’s say three hundred, and that’s it." Uncle Da Gen, seeing Mrs. Yan yielding, softened his tone. "What? Everybody, including Boss Han, exploded, "What kind of alcohol is that? Thought it was made of gold? One sip for one hundred? Eating free food isn’t enough; now you want us to pay you extra?" "Could it be that someone jealous of your business success sent him to sabotage?" Su Ziceng observed the surrounding diners standing up, none wishing to get in trouble while dining. "Uncle Da Gen, how about this?" Mrs. Yan ignored the curses from Boss Han and others, getting ahead, "All my children are still small, and we need cash for turnover. How about you keep a tab of your meals here, and we just call it even?" Mrs. Yan, though running a small stall, was shrewd in minimizing losses through negotiations. "Who am I to argue with kids? I do love the lady boss’s grilled prawns the most; let’s settle it like that," said Uncle Da Gen. The customer known as Da Gen grunted, kicking the two bags of leftovers towards them as he prepared to leave after a slap on his buttocks. "Wait a minute." Su Ziceng picked up the flask, swirling it in the air. "Uncle Da Gen, right? This flask seems quite sturdy and probably expensive, right?" "Aren’t you a perceptive girl?" Uncle Da Gen, hearing the sweet voice of a young lady calling him "uncle," felt a bit flattered and responded slickly: "This is from the Soviet Union. The Germans used this during their attack on Petergeld, and I had to pull some strings to get it. Not only does it keep the aroma of the alcohol, but it also keeps it warm in winter and cool in summer, even better than a fridge, costing at least two or three hundred." You should know, in the late nineties, two or three hundred wasn’t a small sum. "Ah, then we definitely can’t just throw it away." Su Ziceng glanced in a direction; the flask flew straight out like a spinning shotputtowards the deep sea at night. Moments later, a splash was heard. "You, you!!" Da Gen’s face turned from red to white, like a Beijing opera actor, dismayed as his beloved item was discarded by a young girl. "Uncle Da Gen, you might be getting old and less able. Look, your table was set up on the beach. The municipal government stipulated, "Beach management is everyone’s responsibility; it’s wrong to litter any alcohol bottles or cans." Su Ziceng pointed angrily towards a shady corner of the stall. Indeed, a sign from the municipality said, "No littering." Furious, Da Gen tossed the bags of food on the ground, huffed, and left. "Ziceng, slick move." Boss Han gave a thumbs up, praising her. A sea breeze mixed the smell of garlic and fishy smell together. "Of course," Su Ziceng made a face, just about to bask in pride, when she noticed something cool on her hand. She looked and suddenly felt stunned after smelling the fluid on her fingers. (Celebration! Today marks the beginning of the second volume, which will surely be thrilling. I secluded myself this morning to conclude the typing of this section. Another celebration: after over three months of hard work, the draft is finally complete, ending with over one million words. Thank you to Fan Xiang’er for the extensive review, and thanks to those who left messages guessing the questions. I’ll adjust the update frequency when I return from the exhibition next weekend. To everyone who supported me when I was new, thank you (moving to tears.)