The steward grumbled inwardly, even wishing he could slap himself across the face. This young lady clearly didn't understand market prices; he should have said ten or twenty years earlier. Why on earth did he mention sixty years' worth?
Mingzhu's brows shot up: "You better not tell me there's only one jar left of the sixty-year variety." If that were the case, she would absolutely make sure this servant couldn't escape the consequences.
The steward kept reassuring her: "Miss, rest assured, we still have several jars of the sixty-year vintage. I will have someone prepare them for you to take away shortly." Ah, the steward, however reluctant, had to bring them out, otherwise, he couldn't bear the brunt of her temper once aroused.
Yueyao smiled and said, "Then I'll trouble you, steward. As for what's delicious, both Mingzhu and I aren't very clear on that, so please make the selection for us!"
With Mingzhu's approval, the steward immediately went out to order the dishes.
