The arm, severed at the roots, obscured the woman's face.
Her lifeless gaze penetrated the gaps between her fingers and met Liu Zheng's eyes.
The bluish-white skin still looked smooth and elastic.
She must have been very young, and hadn't been dead long.
Even though he had prepared mentally many times, even though he had tried his best to numb himself.
But when he saw the hollowed-out abdomen, his body still couldn't help but tremble.
Out of fear.
And out of anger.
"Leave it to me."
A hoof snatched the bag away.
Niu Ma glanced at him, his expression inscrutable.
"Go, help me roll out the dough."
He shoved Liu Zheng forcefully.
The immense strength left him no chance to resist as he staggered to the pastry workbench.
"Roll it thinner, don't make it thick like naan bread."
Without turning his head, Niu Ma shouted as he carried the bag toward the sink.
Liu Zheng watched his retreating figure, his chest heaving several times before finally settling down.
