"Boss, these ribs have been hanging all morning. How about five yuan cheaper?"
The old butcher, Zhangtou, rubbed the back of his knife against the sharpening stick twice and looked at me sideways: "Chu Jinghong, if you come to my place to bargain every day, can I still do this business?"
"It's not the end of the month." I grinned, "Ling'er wants to eat braised pork ribs and has been thinking about it for several days."
"Okay, okay, take it." Lao Zhangtou waved his hand, took a bag of ribs with oil paper, and threw it in front of me, "Thirty, take it, I sold it to you at a loss."
