"Bring it out." He suddenly missed the past. Even if it tasted bad, at least it was full of rare and precious medicinal herbs, and he didn't have to worry about whether it was poisonous.
Trevor Ye's face was cold, his eyes fell on his bare long legs: "It's bought anyway, it doesn't cost much, I don't care. Master, do you plan to not eat or drink for two months until you starve to death?"
"It's OK if you didn't make it, otherwise I can't afford it." Nolan Rong said sarcastically, and stretched out his hand to him: "Give it to me."
The casual action hurt Trevor Ye's eyes. He put the plate down heavily and said, "Master is right. With my current status, the Great Yan Dynasty can run rampant and the Emperor of God has to respect me. Since I wish you dead, I should be thankful that I didn't poison you. How can I cook for you personally?"
A bowl of hundred flower leaf porridge, four side dishes, not a single magical herb. Ignoring the person standing opposite, just looking at the dishes, they smell pretty good.
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