Tu Bawan lived up to its name. Normally, only eight people could sit at a table. They used square marble tables with flower carvings, which were commonly known as the Eight Immortals table. One dish per person almost didn't need to fight for one.
As the only cold dish in the tuba bowl, the dry fragrance had its own unique features. As soon as it was served, an extremely sour and spicy fragrance swept through the entire area, and the nose was the first organ to be attracted.
If it wasn't for the fact that its duty was to smell, it might have personally come down to try out the taste of such an attractive dish.
"So you ordered the eight bowls of mud. It smells pretty good." Zhang Chen Dashan's eyes lit up.
He had deep feelings for tu Bawan, who was from his tribe. He was naturally in a good mood to be able to eat it in Rong city. Even if the taste was not good, it could not erase his feelings for these eight bowls of dishes.
