After a meal, Fu Yunhe had switched sides.
The threat to his life turned into somewhat willing cooperation.
Nian Shutong was the same, farming to earn resources had turned into beginning to enjoy farming.
Simple labor was quite joyful.
A large basin of potato chicken, not a bit was left over, not even a drop of soup.
Because Nian Shutong had used the broth to soak the rice, and the rice itself, needless to say, not a single grain was wasted.
Fu Yunhe, who was looking on from the side, looked enviously at Nian Shutong's flat stomach.
Where did it all go?
So much, and she ate it effortlessly.
Rubble also had his doubts; even he felt stuffed with metal.
"Ms. Nian Shutong, could it be that you are a descendant of a devouring beast? Is your stomach connected to an endless void?"
Nian Shutong set down her chopsticks and bowl, looked at Rubble staring at her stomach, and decided not to argue with him—full from her meal.
Jealousy warps people!
"You two wash the dishes."
