Constable Xing was brimming with curiosity and wanted to ask Shopkeeper Tong about it.
But when he squeezed through the crowd and reached him, he discovered that Shopkeeper Tong was busy making milk tea, working up a storm.
There were already more than three hundred people in the queue!
Shopkeeper Tong was dressed in casual clothes, with both arms bare.
He normally looked round and plump, but who would have guessed that his arms were knotted with muscle like the roots of an ancient tree? They looked powerful.
He swiftly added tea leaves and fresh milk to a wooden cup, shook it vigorously a few times to mix them, then poured the contents into a thick paper cup.
Bai Zhantang immediately called out from the counter:
"Number seven hundred and thirty-six! Number seven hundred and thirty-six, please collect your order!"
Constable Xing watched from the doorway for a while, then squeezed forward until he reached Bai Zhantang.
"Hey, hey, Little Bai, Little Bai." Constable Xing nudged Bai Zhantang with his elbow as the latter wiped tables and collected rubbish after calling out the number. "Give me a number."
Bai Zhantang was clearing away rubbish and getting ready to carry the cups off to wash them. At Constable Xing's words, he looked up. "Constable Xing! You're here, Constable Xing? I'll get you a number right away!"
Bai Zhantang took a slip of paper half the size of a palm from inside his robe and handed it to Constable Xing. "Here you are, Constable Xing!"
Constable Xing looked down. The slip clearly read "Number one thousand three hundred and thirty-six," and his teeth began to ache.
But he glanced around at the packed restaurant, full of young gentlemen and ladies whose bearing alone marked them as extraordinary, so he refrained from asking