The night was enigmatic.
Chen Family's Master Bedroom.
On the kang bed, a small table was set. On the table lay a bowl of steamed buns, a dish of minced pork sauce, a bowl of solidified deer blood, a small plate of pickled vegetables, and a roasted leg of deer.
These dishes were carefully prepared and brought up from the cellar by Han Anniang.
On the dark old table, the freshly cooked or covered dishes emitted steaming white smoke, blending together, and the enticing aroma of meat permeated the small room.
With the doors and windows tightly shut, the fragrance had nowhere to escape.
Chen Mo was not a great man who would sacrifice for others. His dietary regimen impacted his cultivation pace, and what he ate earlier was far from enough to meet his needs.
The show was just for appearances; he wouldn't neglect himself.
