Two disciples of the Food God Sect, each carrying an iron pot on their backs, found Gong Gong's little shop.
They were surrounded by an air of celestial aura, pride written on their faces. Upon seeing Gong Gong, they simply nodded slightly as a greeting, then spoke indifferently, "Gong Gong."
"I'm here," Gong Gong, who was experimenting with new recipes, replied.
"The Supreme Elder is quite satisfied with your performance, so he wants to give you some extra rewards. What would you like?"
Another disciple said coldly from the side, "Think it through before you speak, and don't ask for too much."
Gong Gong, sizing up the two of them, felt that they were more temper than talent.
If our true bodies were here, even your Supreme Elders would have to toast us, and you kids wouldn't even have a seat at the table; we'd have to dig out a three-story basement for you.
But now we're in a game, no point in taking issue with a bunch of NPCs.
