The sun slanted westward, and the clouds burned red like fire.
The crackle of vegetables stir-frying in hot oil rang out from the small courtyard.
Chen Mu held an iron spatula, rhythmically turning the emerald-green vegetables to ensure every piece was heated evenly.
Jie Jia sat calmly beside the stone table beneath the grape trellis.
A pile of broken silver lay before him, and he was rubbing the pieces into silver beads one by one.
Chen Mu brought the food to the table. "Does every great assassin have some strange hobby?"
He truly could not understand why anyone would rub broken silver into round beads.
Jie Jia ignored Chen Mu completely, speeding up his hands and rubbing all the broken silver into beads before hiding them in his sleeve.
He rose to wash his hands, pulled out a clean white handkerchief to dry them, then casually tossed it into the fire pit.
Chen Mu rolled his eyes and took out a serving pair of chopsticks to divide the dishes.
After becoming familiar with each other, this old man had grown increasingly demanding.
The tableware and cooking utensils had to be clean, the ingredients had to be fresh, and the food had to be portioned out with serving chopsticks before being served.
What a pain in the ass! They had traveled all the way from Qingshan County, sleeping rough and eating whatever they could find, and he had never seen him care this much.
Besides, he was just here to mooch meals, yet he still had demands about this and that.
Could he tolerate that?
"Yours." A gray cloth bag landed on the table in front of Chen Mu.
Mm. Chen Mu decided he could tolerate it.
He grabbed the gray cloth bag and weighed it in his hand. There had