"When I was eight," Marvey looked deep in thought, his tone calm, as if an experienced elder recounting a monumental past event, "Father Yivelle from Tongshan Church found my father and said to him, 'By the grace of the Lord, Marvey is a gifted child.'"
But his hand was not so honest, quietly inching towards the drink of someone he had just met—or to be precise, couldn't really be called an acquaintance—his tablemate, "Ah, it's just a pity..."
Reaching the key point, Marvey deliberately paused. Thinking he had piqued the interest of his tablemate, he leisurely extended his hand towards the tablemate's bottle, acting as naturally as if they were old friends.
Meanwhile, Siegfried, sitting across from Marvey, had long since noticed the small movements of this fellow with the ridiculous mustache. He pushed the bottle towards Marvey, coldly asking, "Don't you know who I am?"
