The bus was filled with laughter and joy.
The three elderly men of the senior trio were fighting over the sole braised pork knuckle.
Bai Zhengxuan, quick with his hands and eyes, snatched the collagen-rich skin off the knuckle.
Uncle Wang was a bit slower, but he managed to take off a thick layer of meat.
Uncle Liu got distracted, leaving only a big bone on the plate. Refusing to be left out, he decisively took the bone.
"Old Wang, give me a hand!"
Uncle Liu silently placed the bone next to Uncle Wang's hand.
Uncle Wang rolled his eyes, his hands glowing with a faint yellow light.
The hand, glowing with yellow light, struck the bone hard.
With a crack.
The bone split into two.
Uncle Liu, smiling, took a chopstick to scoop out the marrow and eat.
Zhao Wenqing stared in disbelief at the three elderly men eating, feeling utterly flabbergasted.
A strong middle-aged man like himself, struggling in the apocalypse, was not doing as well as a few elderly men!
