"Promotional experts..."
Tang Qi repeated a few words, seeming to have received the information.
In reality, he was letting them filter through his mind without retaining a thing.
His hungover brain throbbed as if a chisel were pounding into it.
He tried to remember what had happened last night, but his fragmented memories held only the shame of lying on the ground, looking up at a Dwarf, and his painfully full bladder making him run to the bathroom countless times.
Oh, right—he'd also run out onto the lawn to see who could pee the farthest.
By moonlight, he'd glimpsed that there seemed to be a reason Dwarves were called short people.
"But I'm never having a drinking contest with a Dwarf again."
His vision blurred and doubled, and his calves felt wobbly. He couldn't help patting his head.
Seeing Tang Qi dazed and barely able to communicate, Chuck glanced at the enormous but empty beer barrel on the table, gaped in disbelief, and walked back into the kitchen.
When he came back out, he had several needle-shaped, emerald-green leaves in his hand. They were dotted with water droplets, evidently freshly washed.
Chuck patted Tang Qi's cheek, making him open his mouth mechanically, then stuffed the leaves inside and moved his jaw, getting him to chew.
"Mint leaves. They'll help sober you up and freshen your breath, too."
The leaves in his mouth seemed different from the ones he remembered, probably some special variety.
First came a cool, stinging sensation on his tongue. Then, as he chewed, it felt like he was holding an ice ball in his mouth. Finally, his entire tongue seemed to freeze. The chill coursed down his throat and flooded his nose and brain, bringing Tang Qi fully back to his senses.
"Ah, ooh, ah—(I think I