Pushing aside the greasy, sticky curtain, he was met with a pungent mix of aromas: cooked food, liquor, smoke, and sweat.
The interior wasn't large. A few tables were set by the window, where two parties of customers sat drinking.
When Wu Liangchen walked in, both tables of customers looked up. Seeing an unfamiliar face, especially one leading a grimy little child, they were momentarily stunned. Then, their gazes grew meaningful.
Wu Liangchen, however, paid their stares no mind. He led the little girl straight to an empty table and sat down.
A middle-aged woman hurried over. She first sized Wu Liangchen up with curiosity, then, her face breaking into a wide smile, asked, "What can I get for you?"
"Meat! Fresh meat. Cook as much as you have and bring it all to me." Wu Liangchen sounded like a starving man who hadn't eaten in days.
And in fact, that was the truth.
