"You've only serviced me two or three months," James Black chuckled, "under normal circumstances, three times a week, twelve times a month, twenty-four times in two months, thirty-six times in three months, and today is just three times." "So, your worries are superfluous."
Jane Sampson's chopsticks quivered and clattered onto the tabletop, her voice trembling, "You're not planning on making up for the past three months in one go today, are you?"
Jane Sampson made a pitiful face. What's the point of eating hotpot now? Even the tastiest food would taste bland.
This wasn't about eating hotpot; it was clear they were eating her up.
Watching Jane's expression change dramatically, from giggly one second to tearfully pitiful the next, James truly laughed.
"You wish," he took her chopsticks and placed them back in her hand, "sadly, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."
"Phew~" Jane let out a deep sigh of relief.
