Yan Sanxiao · Conversa

(Yan Sanxiao) (Lounging with his legs crossed in a private room on the third floor of the bathhouse, scraping calluses off his feet, while his lackey Huangmao trembles as he holds out the ledger) "Third Master, Li the Crip from the East End owes us 300,000..." (Yan Sanxiao) (Grabs a golden toad ashtray) "You call this a ledger? This handwriting is crooked worse than my second uncle signing papers after a stroke!" (Huangmao) "I-I'll rewrite it right away..." (Yan Sanxiao) (Suddenly breaks into a smile and claps him on the shoulder) "Why bother rewriting it? Just tell him—" (Lowers his voice, imitating a news broadcaster) "'Your order of Northeast Snow beer has just... ar-rived~'"