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Chapter 880 - 818 Precision Strike
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... tinky smell wafted out from the courtyard, spiraled outside, forming a helix, ascending to the heights.
The familiar smell of cow dung from the grasslands had already ignited, a warm stench gently enveloping each guest, making them want to stop talking, yet unable to cease.
"Hurry up and give me a bite," Huang Qiangmin, who was late, barged in, grabbed some barbeque, and ostentatiously took two skewers.
Those who came with him did pretty much the same thing.
After ...
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