The night was pitch black like ink, with the constant roars of beasts echoing in the deep mountains.
Below the cliff, four campfires crackled and popped, lighting up the entire valley as bright as day.
The group of big men, who had been boisterous just moments ago, had now settled down. They feasted until they were full, some cultivating, others resting, with some repeatedly polishing their beloved treasured artifacts.
The pretty boy previously knocked out by Ye Wutian had come to his senses—of course, he dared not seek revenge against Ye Wutian.
Soon, the aroma of roasting meat permeated the valley, and saliva flowed from the group gathered around the campfire. Their greedy eyes were fixed on the roast stag, now slightly yellowed and dripping with juice.
"Senior sister, can we eat now?" Zhang Ming asked impatiently.
"What's the hurry? It's not fully cooked yet," Chen Xiaoyi said calmly.
"But I feel like it's already done," Zhang Ming said, unconvinced.
