The drinking lasted late into the night, with the chubby Luo Xinghan slumped in his chair, and Turin disappearing under the excuse of a bathroom break.
The Changtangians' baijiu, as Durin had anticipated, was filled with all sorts of high-proof concoctions—just think about it, with the blessing of old techniques and full electricity coverage in Shangjing, simple distillation techniques should have long since been invented.
Eventually, Durin stood up and announced that he had to return to the Heavenly Master Mansion.
"You little one, unfamiliar with the place—""No worries, I have my magic pet to guide me." Durin said while opening the window.
Hemo flapped its wings and landed on the windowsill. It scanned the room and let out a soft squawk toward Durin.
"Well, young folks have their own plans." Zhang Mengping, the most sober among the group tonight, spoke. Being the eldest here besides Old Pang, his words prompted Old Pang, who had just gotten up, to sit back down.
