A little over half an hour later, Brother Tian returned to the bar with a steaming bowl of medicinal soup and drank it in front of Zhao Yuan.
"Pah! Pah! Pah!"
The moment the medicine touched his tongue, an intense bitterness flooded his mouth. Brother Tian gagged and spat it out in a spray.
"Master, this medicine is vile!" Brother Tian exclaimed, his face a grimace.
Zhao Yuan's expression was stern. "Good medicine is always bitter. Do you want to get better or not? If you do, then hurry up and drink."
In truth, the medicine for Brother Tian's illness wasn't supposed to be so vile. But Zhao Yuan, wanting to teach him a little lesson, had intentionally added a few extra ingredients. Without affecting the efficacy of the cure, they made the concoction utterly disgusting.
Without a doubt, for the next month and more, drinking this medicine was going to be a unique form of torture for Brother Tian!
Brother Tian stared at the amber-colored liquid, his face a mask of misery.
