How to make your own sorghum wine.
Mason sat on a chair in the corner of the terrace on the second floor of the restaurant, looking down at his phone seriously. There was a table of guests playing sand art next to him.
"Brother Cheng," a girl turned her head towards this side, "Can you help me fix the details of this picture? I want to take a photo."
"Okay." Mason put down his phone, stood up, and walked over to look at the painting on the sand painting table.
The painting was of a cat. To be exact, he guessed that it was a cat. After all, he had a cat at home, and it lay in various forms and wherever it wanted every day.
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