As night gradually fell, the stars in the sky shone brighter.
Just as Sword Casting Manor finished another day, during a discussion meeting, Ning Zheng also returned to the house at the foot of the mountain.
It was just the right time for dinner.
Recently, he had timed his return perfectly.
The fish on the table was freshly cooked, emitting the aroma of meat.
However, for some reason, Ning Zheng thought that it was about time for a bonfire dinner on the mountain, recalling the words of that Food God, and thought the blacksmiths on the mountain were having an incredibly delicious mushroom feast tonight.
At the thought of this, Ning Zheng inexplicably felt his throat dry and a bit sympathetic.
"What's wrong?" Ning Jiaojiao had just finished eating and was mending clothes with a needle in hand.
"Nothing." Ning Zheng put down the box, thinking that he shouldn't worry about work at home, and gently said at the dinner table, "After dinner, we have something to do."
