The Horseman felt a little nervous. Luckily, he always kept cigarettes and a lighter in his pocket. He didn't smoke; they were for giving away, and at most, he would occasionally light one to fend off second-hand smoke. He usually even carried incense sticks with him, but he had forgotten them today. He never imagined that forgetting them just this once would nearly lead to a mishap.
"Sir, enjoy your meal. Goodbye," he said tentatively, only to hear Shen Zijun call out.
"Wait a moment."
Shen Zijun cradled the meal box in both hands. He couldn't care less if the utensils were suitable. Given the situation, he couldn't afford to be picky; anything functional would suffice.
With a sudden inhale, he saw three cigarettes burn away rapidly. As the smoke drifted, the food in the meal box turned to ash in a flash.
Shen Zijun choked a bit, feeling like a normal person who, while eating, used weird-tasting, moldy chopsticks and then ended up eating the chopsticks themselves.
