Zheng Manman had always thought that Liu Chuanfeng's light meal shop was already a rip-off. A bunch of grass with a little meat sold for thirty-five, and later they added cakes, selling a tiny slice for twenty or thirty. Now she had seen it all—a most ordinary Americano was priced at eighty-eight yuan.
There were no darkest merchants, only darker profiteers.
There were no most foolish consumers, only even more foolish consumers.
Chapter 523