"Then you guys go ahead, I'm going to sell sticky cakes." The young man happily pushed the cart and left.
Dongfang Badao waited for the youngster to leave before casually throwing a piece of sticky cake into his mouth. He then distributed the bags to the others. He was also a little hungry, so as he chewed on the sticky cake, he asked,""What do you think the three of them are doing? they went to have a meal as soon as they arrived. Did you come to this barren village just to have a meal?"
It wasn't strange for him to think this way. The first impression they had when they arrived at the West Star Mountain village was that it was incomparably desolate. It was hard for them to imagine what the three old ancestors of the blood-clad yellow spring sect were doing in such a remote and backward place.
