The waitress was wiping her tears, looking quite young—probably in her teens, still half a child. Most of those who come to work in a place like this often do not have the best family conditions. They strive hard for a living yet fail to gain respect from some customers.
The middle-aged lady bullying the waitress sounded like she was from the school's high ranks. Such a lack of manners has nothing to do with one's profession; there's always a bad apple in every industry.
Qian took a wet napkin from her bag and quietly handed it to the waitress.
"Ah, sorry about that, miss. Is there anything you need me to do?" The waitress hurriedly wiped her tears and forced a smile at Qian.
"It's nothing. I saw you've been standing here all day; it must be exhausting. Wipe your face. Such a pretty young girl—crying ruins your skin."
"I can just use a tissue."
The waitress shyly declined, but Qian tore open the package and handed it to her. Such a small gesture was indeed touching.
