Before they knew it, two months had passed.
During those two months,
every day Xiao Mo opened his eyes, he hauled firewood and lit fires.
As for the three tasks mentioned in the Book of a Hundred Lives, Xiao Mo hadn't the slightest clue.
After all, at his age, when he couldn't even truss a chicken, just as Master Niu had said, he could be turned into baby bok choy the moment he stepped outside Tushan Manor. How could he even think about anything else?
Xiao Mo figured the only thing he could do for now was get his health back at Tushan Manor and take life one day at a time.
And although Xiao Mo worked himself to the bone every day at Tushan Manor, at least he got to eat his fill.
In this Yao Race World, where people were worth less than dogs, eating one's fill every day was truly a luxury for most ordinary people.
After two months of recuperating, Xiao Mo had put on quite a bit of weight, and he was much stronger than before.
At night, the Wood Shed was a little cold, but his bed was laid atop a pile of firewood, and the quilt kept him reasonably warm.
Besides, Master Niu was a decent bull. He hinted that if Xiao Mo got too cold, he could use the firewood to make a fire.
He'd turn a blind eye.
Outside work, whenever Xiao Mo had some free time, he'd sit with some of the demons from the Kitchen courtyard and listen to them chat.
Apart from hearing such lewd jokes and gossip as, "That cat demon Dongfeng's got a real soft body. If you really got going with her, you could snap her waist in half," "That new dairy cow demon at