The sky gradually darkened.
Qiaoqiao was so busy she barely stopped moving. No sooner had she come down from the mountain than she picked up the dog food Wu Lan had prepared earlier and placed it on the tricycle, then grabbed the pig food bucket and climbed back up the back mountain.
The seven pigs had an extra meal today, but they still greeted her arrival with thunderous oinking. Qiaoqiao fed them steadily, and then swiftly scooped up the sorghum and rice husks into the chicken coop.
In an instant, chickens from all over the mountains swarmed in again, and the whole mountain gradually filled with a faint aroma of alcohol.
After Qiaoqiao left, Big Wang set aside the pumpkin by his mouth and curiously looked at the sorghum in the chicken coop that was different from his own food.
But soon he sneezed and buried his head back into the pumpkin.
