The sun was setting in the west, painting the clouds a fiery red.
Sizzling sounds arose from the small courtyard as hot oil popped and hissed in the frying pan.
Chen Mu held a spatula, rhythmically stirring the bright green vegetables to ensure each piece was evenly heated.
Under the grape trellis, beside the stone table, sat the old man in Jie Jia armor, looking utterly at ease.
In front of him lay a pile of Silver Pieces, which he was rolling into little silver beads.
Chen Mu brought the dishes to the table, "Does every top assassin have some weird hobby?"
He really couldn't comprehend the reason behind rolling Silver Pieces into round beads.
Jie Jia paid no attention to Chen Mu, speeding up his hands, and concealed all the silver beads into his sleeves.
Standing up to wash his hands, he took out a clean handkerchief to dry them and then casually threw it into the fire pit.
Chen Mu rolled his eyes and began to divide the food with serving chopsticks.
