"Damn, brother, you can really drink."
Mi Long groggily got up, walked into the yard, and went over to the water vat. He scooped up cool water with a ladle and gulped down several big mouthfuls before looking at Wang Yan and complaining, unable to hold it in any longer.
Wang Yan sat on a small stool smoking, staring at the large pot in the yard as the fragrance of rice rolled from it. Smiling, he said, "Oh, cut it out. I never forced you to drink. You were the one knocking back cup after cup with me. If you weren't going to get drunk, who was?"
"But you can drink too." Mi Long dragged over a little stool, sat beside him, and lit a cigarette. "What's the most you can drink?"
"I've never drank that much."
"You've never gotten drunk?"
"I mean I've never really drank." Wang Yan shook his head. "Alcohol's expensive, isn't it? Doesn't getting drunk make you feel awful? It wastes money and makes you miserable. Why would I compete with anyone over that?"
"That's the truth." Mi Long nodded, then silently smoked without saying another word.
After a while, he glanced at Fan La, who was sitting beside him. "If you've got something to say, say it. If not, get lost."
"Oh, Brother Mi, you're a bodhisattva who saves people from misery and suffering..." Fan La put on a fawning smile and launched into a string of flattering blessings.
"Well, I'll be damned. That flattery actually sounds pretty good." Mi Long looked at Wang Yan and burst out laughing. Then he turned and patted Fan La on the shoulder. "Go on, what do you need from me?"
"You're a man of boundless abilities. Could you help me get some sulfa drugs on the black market?"