It was three o'clock in the morning, and the sky had just turned a bluish-grey color that looked like fish belly white.
In the kitchen behind Chanjiao, Jiang Mo was breathing heavily and swinging his ax.
"Click - click -"
The sound of wood being split was too harsh in this quiet morning.
He was wearing coarse linen clothes, stained with firewood chips and mud, and the backs of his hands were red from the cold, but he didn't dare to stop.
Why? It's just because his mother has a bad background.
In this teaching, he is just a lowly slave.
Wash vegetables, light fire, make soup...
Jiang Mo was like a little top, spinning constantly on the edge of the stove.
The steam in the kitchen made it difficult to keep his eyes open, and the pungent smell of medicinal herbs rushed straight into his nose.
He knew in his heart that what he was going through today was to replenish the spiritual energy of those so-called "noble" Chan disciples.
"Hmph! A bunch of foodies, eating pretty well."
Jiang Mo cursed secretly in his heart, but he didn't dare to slow down at all.
He knew in his heart that if he slowed down, those people would pounce on him like wolves and tear him into pieces.
"Jiang Mo! You useless thing, you move so slowly, do you want to starve us to death?!"
