Lao Wang shook his head and stopped persuading him. After all, he and Ning Qi were just acquaintances, at most tea friends.

The monks came and went, most of them just looked at the potato chips in Ning Qi's hand curiously, and had no interest in the porcelain bottle Ning Qi placed on the ground in front of him.

When someone sells something, they will at least yell a few times, or write an explanation to indicate what they are selling. Like Ning Qi, he has nothing and looks shabby. Most monks are not even in the mood to ask.