The top-tier Qinghuaci cigarettes Jiang Siming had bought for tens of thousands per carton, along with all the other most expensive cigarettes, had to step aside compared to this one—by the distance of eight whole roads.
In particular, he could feel the faint herbal scent slowly and subtly nourishing his dantian. The effect was extremely slight, though.
But if he smoked too many, quantitative change would eventually lead to qualitative change.
Jiang Siming immediately fell in love with these Imperial Dragon Cigarettes. From now on, he decided, this would be the only cigarette he smoked. Heh!
However, Jiang Siming stopped after smoking one. Cigarettes weren't something he could smoke all the time, or he'd become a chain-smoker.
It was like women's cosmetics. They couldn't be used constantly. If you applied them every moment of every day, you'd end up with a fake face and never be able to get it back.
After the competition ended, Jiang Siming, Wei Shen, and the coaches all returned to the hotel together. As usual, Jiang Siming drove his Pagani back, while Wei Shen and the others could only stare enviously as they took a taxi.
They had wanted to ride back in Jiang Siming's car, but Brother Jiang's car could only hold two people. With so many of them, it wouldn't have been right to fight over the seats.
Jiang Siming: The key point was that even if they fought over them, he wouldn't let them in anyway. What were they thinking?
The next match would be held two days later. Since the individual competition only had five rounds, the organizers were trying to stretch out the schedule as much as possible.
Otherwise, the whole thing would be over in five days, and wouldn't the audience find that boring?
So there were two days