As a feared saint of the demon sect, Shen Ruobing finally succeeded in "faking death" to escape and lived the retirement life she had dreamed of twenty years after being involved in life and death. She opened a dessert shop in the ancient town of Jiangnan, and her daily research topic changed from "how to quietly poison the righteous elders" to "how to make cream whipped more delicately." I thought I would be able to take care of my husband and raise my children, even though my husband was not around yet, but Lu Zhao, a cute new agent six doors down, came to the house on time three times a day to check the household registration. "Name?" "Shen Xiaotian." "Place of origin?" "Next door village." "What's the name of this dark, bitter-sweet thing?" "... It's called tiramisu, Mr. Lu, this is the third piece you've eaten today, have you paid?" Shen Ruobing hid his Black Iron Order in fear while relying on his superb cooking skills to spread the dessert to the entrance of the martial arts conference. As a result, the scene of a decisive battle with swords and swords suddenly changed: Righteous Young Hero A: "This piece of 'Tiramisu' belongs to me! Whoever steals it is a remnant of the Demon Cult!" Elder B of the Demon Cult: "Fart! This familiar recipe, this overbearing sweet taste, must be the manifestation of the saint of my religion, I am determined to get it!" Just when a group of big guys were beaten to a bloody head, the cute new agent Lu Zhao, who only knew how to eat and drink all day long and couldn't even hold a knife, slowly wiped the cream from the corner of his mouth, took out a golden alliance leader's order from his arms, and slapped it on the table with a "bang". The whole place was dead silent. Lu Zhao looked at the confused Shen Ruobing and smiled softly and sinisterly: "Madam, have you had enough fun? Those old guys from Zhengdao are clamoring to abdicate.
