The aroma of roast chicken and chicken soup filled the entire living room, making everyone stop what they were doing for a moment.
"That smells amazing. As expected of a weasel, it really knows how to cook anything involving chicken. Must be a racial talent."
"Seriously, it smells even better than the stuff in restaurants. Now I'm hungry."
Qi Gu kept cracking sunflower seeds, but his gaze gradually shifted toward the kitchen, his eyes intensely focused. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought some great evil ghost had appeared inside, requiring such serious scrutiny from him.
The weasel didn't keep them waiting long. Soon, it walked out on its hind legs, carrying a plate bearing a golden roast chicken glistening with oil. It had already figured out who was really in charge of this group... not the violent woman with the knife, but the quiet, calm-looking man.
So it placed the roast chicken closest to Qi Gu. When his clear gaze turned toward it, the weasel instinctively wiped its paws on its apron. "Master, please, help yourself. I still have soup simmering in the pot."
It didn't dare entertain the slightest thought of having any of the chicken it had worked so hard to prepare.
The weasel returned to the kitchen to tend to the old hen soup, which still needed a long time to simmer. The twenty-odd people present stared at the chicken with shining eyes, but didn't want to make it too obvious.
After all, with so many people, one chicken certainly wouldn't be enough to go around. And Master Qi was clearly a food lover. They all depended on his protection to stay on their feet, so how could they expect a share of this chicken?
Qi Gu looked at them. "Aren't you eating?"
Every last