After saying that, he stopped looking at Panzi's expression. He leaned back in his chair, a glass of liquor between his lips, and downed the nearly two ounces of 56-degree baijiu in one gulp.,Third Master, I've taken note of this grudge. You wait.,Wu San-sheng heard this, picked up a pen from the table beside him, and directly checked the rice portion on the food page with a checkmark. Behind it, he wrote an 8.。