Tan Wenbin took out a cigarette, held it in his mouth, and took out a lighter, trying to light it but never quite managing to, as the flame seemed to dance unpredictably in his eyes.
Finally, with a concentrated gaze, he managed to light it, but the cigarette flared up like a stick of firewood; it turned out he had lit the wrong end and set the filter on fire.
Spitting it out, he stomped it out with his shoe and took out another cigarette, examining it carefully before biting down on it.
"Brother Bin, let me help you."
Lin Shuyou took the lighter, clicked it, and the flame "wooshed" nearly a meter high.
Luckily, Tan Wenbin pulled his neck back in time; otherwise, his eyebrows and hair would have been singed clean.
"Brother Bin, I—"
"Forget it, I'm not smoking."
Putting away the pack, Tan Wenbin sat on the coffin.
