"Good evening, sir, and I wish you a wonderful night!"
The waiter outside Ning Fan's room was a tall, muscular Black man with a powerful build—his physique instinctively made one think of a professional boxer.
Yet, despite his imposing stature, he gave off an air of politeness that was impossible to fault.
Is this what they call the remarkable standards of hiring at a grand hotel?
Ning Fan raised an eyebrow, feeling a growing sense of goodwill toward this waiter. He appreciated the man's courteous demeanor.
"Sorry, I don't seem to need any room service for the moment, but I could surely give you a tip!"
At places like this, tips were customary for any task asked of the staff—even though it wasn't obligatory, it had become an unspoken rule.
But the waiter simply shook his head and replied, "I haven't done anything for you yet, so there's no need for a tip. However, I do have something I need to deliver to you."
"Something for me?!"
