Bad News
Old Hei Chaka listened along with everyone else, then casually said with his chopsticks raised, "Huh! No lightning! Sounds like artillery fire!"
But his chopsticks froze too.
Wait!
This was a farm, not a battlefield. Where would artillery come from?
Hearing artillery fire here was clearly abnormal, wasn't it?
The beads of sweat on his forehead immediately rolled down, falling to the ground and breaking into eight pieces.
"How could that be? Who would fire artillery here?"
Sun Nanzheng shook his head repeatedly. Artillery roaring inside the farm? Was this some kind of joke?
Come to think of it, the products of gunpowder combustion made pretty good fertilizer too. After all, explosives were basically nitrogen-bond compounds. The more bonds they had, the greater their power. The most impressive were all-nitrogen explosives.
The hot pot table was right beside the door. Mi Jun, the livestock expert, had been sitting with his back to the door, but now he turned around and looked outside. After watching for a while, he said in surprise, "But there really wasn't any lightning!"
During a thunderstorm, one usually saw the lightning first. After that flash, one could hear the thunder depending on the distance.
Since sound traveled more than three hundred meters per second, one could determine how far the lightning's point of impact was from the place where the thunder was heard.
As long as the lightning and thunder weren't simultaneous, there was basically nothing to worry about.
"Who cares whether it's thunder or artillery? Come on, let's get back to the hot pot!"
Accountant Dong was a loyal hot pot enthusiast. Even if there were bullets flying outside, corpses strewn across the ground, and blood flowing like rivers, nothing could stop his chopsticks from reaching into the hot pot.
"Wait, I'm calling