There was a long queue at the entrance, but they used their connections to snag a window seat earlier.
The dishes were all served, and the charcoal was sizzling.
The fat dripped onto the charcoal, sending up a wisp of white smoke, filling the air with a delicious aroma.
Sitting across from each other, the steam fogged up the glass windows, also blurring their faces.
Melanie couldn't help but ask, "Vivian, do you usually work overtime this late?"
It was past nine, and almost nobody was outside.
The lights in the mall were going out one by one, and the store clerks were yawning as they started to close up.
"Pretty much."
Vivian shrugged, her tone quite indifferent.
"In our line of work, there are a lot of cases, and overtime is the norm. Last month, I didn't go home for seven consecutive days and slept on an army cot at the firm."
In the legal profession, the more you work, the more you earn.
Without cases, even getting food on the table is tough.
