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... k his head. “I didn’t mean the number of dishes; it’s the price. This Yangzhou fried rice costs 600 copper coins each? Do you use giant dragon meat to make it?” he said, pointing at the line of words on the menu a little irritated.

He had thought that the decorations were great and that the innkeeper was also not bad, but hadn’t expected that they wanted to rip him off. Such small words they were; if he hadn’t seen clearly and had ordered directly, he would have spent 600 on nothing.

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