"I've already sworn, I'll never touch another drop of alcohol again!" Sang Youming promptly reaffirmed his resolve.
But as he said this, his eyes stayed fixed on the bottle of baijiu sitting on the table, and he couldn't stop swallowing.
Not being able to drink—this is pure torture!
Sang Ning unpacked dishes from another food box, then retrieved a wine glass from the bottom layer, uncorked the baijiu bottle, poured a full glass, and placed it in front of Sang Youming:
"Dad, didn't the ancestors say that rushing things achieves the opposite? I've given it some thought—asking you to quit drinking cold turkey might not be realistic. Controlling the amount and indulging occasionally should be okay."
Sang Youming had suffered from Sang Ning's schemes plenty of times, so he wasn't about to trust her so easily.
