Xuanyuan Po carried a tray of food into the library. Now, with the Hundred Herb Garden empty of people, no one was left to send over food, leaving the Orthodox Academy to begin doing its own cooking. In these first few days, the one so unfortunate to draw the short stick of cooking duty was this demi-human youth.
The starlight poured in through the windows of the library. It was very light and mild, just like the food he had cooked today.
At noon, Jin Yulu had tried some. He told them that in the future, they would not have to wait for him to begin eating.
Tang Thirty-Six placed down his chopsticks and looked at Xuanyuan Po very seriously, asking, "Did you forget to add salt again?"
Chen Changsheng chuckled at him and said, "Just as you often say, you changed the subject too roughly."
Tang Thirty-Six's expression did not change. "That's because your demands are too excessive."
