Yang Zicheng was on the verge of tears, watching these people flee in panic like they'd seen a ghost. He could only shake his head helplessly: "Lots of people haven't paid yet..."
Putting that aside, he immediately ran to check the backyard, where each barrel had now burst open.
The liquid flowing out of these barrels had become pitch black, exuding a foul stench. Iron Cannon and others covered their noses, hopping madly, not realizing they had been sleeping in these tubs all afternoon.
"Bath! Quick, take a bath! Rinse it off!"
"It stinks so bad!"
A crowd scrambled into the bathhouse; they couldn't stand it, their pristine bodies surrounded by the awful stench.
The bathhouse went through another frenzy, using up hundreds of bottles of shower gel, even changing the bathwater three times; only then did they wash away the stench, changing their clothes, standing in the backyard red-faced.
