"Zhang Big Bro, what's the meaning of sneaking around like this? You've made a joke of yourself." Lu Xiaobu leaned on the counter, waving his hand with a smile at Zhang Benhu: "Wu Qianmin finally got a chance to play a good guy, and you just ruined it."
"Exactly, exactly, what my uncle said is right." Zhang Wenliang was frantically nodding to the side.
"Brat, I am your dad, when did it become your turn to lecture me?" Zhang Benhu's old face reddened, he argued.
"Alright, Zhang Wenliang, your turn, the next round is still yours."
Lu Xiaobu said with a smile—this poor kid, he calls his uncle so sweetly, he should get some benefits.
"Thank you, Uncle." Zhang Wenliang was ecstatic, scurrying away immediately.
"Ahem, Xiaobu," Zhang Benhu coughed twice to hide his embarrassment: "I see that you run a very nice bar. I've come to learn from you; you don't mind, do you?"
"Whatever," said Lu Xiaobu indifferently.
At this moment, Liang Lan came by: "Young Master, your drink is ready."