"Knock knock..."
Lin Zifeng leaned casually against the door and tapped it, saying lightly, "I hope I'm not disturbing your wine tasting?"
Finishing his sentence, he swaggered in and, under Liu Ruyan's wide-eyed stare, he actually stepped forward, took the glass of fine wine Nangong Bing had prepared for her, brought it to his nose and sniffed it with a blissful expression. He clicked his tongue and commented, "This wine is nice, but it's missing something."
"Missing what?" Nangong Bing asked.
"Alcohol, without alcohol, no matter how beautiful the wine is, it doesn't drink satisfyingly. It lacks that throat-burning sensation."
Lin Zifeng said.
In his opinion, if drinking doesn't have that kick, just drinking some foreign wine brought over by foreigners is pointless. It's better to get a couple of bottles of cold boiled water to drink, like the Baijiu of Eastern Earth, that stuff packs a punch.
"Who let you in? Don't you know what respect means?"
