Others were coiling their spiritual veins and working on their supernatural powers in the ancient world. I, Sanzu, a "three-legged golden crow waste" who can even breathe fire and set his curled tail feathers on fire, set up an innate sycamore wood grill at the foot of Kunlun Mountain - skewers of spiritual grass brushed with Lingquan honey sauce, grilled sausages with dragon tendons and juicy sauce, deep-sea blackfish skewers with more spicy, even Kunpeng in the North Sea had to book a table with a sound-transmitting snail three days in advance: "If you dare to use less spicy, I will blow up your stall!"
I wanted to hide from the crowd and make a living, but I didn't expect that the stall would be crowded with big guys every day:
- Ruilin squatted on a stone pier and ate skewers, his snow-white mane was covered with sauce, and he said harshly, "I'm here to supervise you not to waste ingredients," but his hooves secretly moved the honey sauce jar to his feet;
- Ancestor Hongjun was halfway through his sermon. He followed the aroma and touched it. He frowned and asked, "My way is worse than a bunch of roasted leeks?". After chewing, he left a message, "Take two skewers to Zixiao Palace tomorrow."
- Bai Ze brought his young apprentice to satisfy his craving, Qing Luan organized a group to grab skewers of spiritual grass, and even the Dragon King of the East China Sea asked his shrimp soldiers to deliver dragon tendons: "Give the old dragon skewers to replenish his strength, training is too hard!"
When Hongjun helped me stabilize the crack in the sky, Sanqing helped me transport the ingredients, and the lich and the two tribes put down their weapons and grilled skewers together, I suddenly understood: The ancient road is not only soaring, but also allows Kunpeng to put down his arrogance and wait for the skewers, let Ruilin put away his sharp edge and rub the sauce, and make everyone laugh out loud around the oven - this ordinary firework atmosphere is the most important way to hold on to.
Now, the barbecue stall at the foot of Kunlun Mountain is smelling good again. Do you want to eat skewers together? Ancestor Hongjun still has two hot skewers of chive skewers left!
