The food smells delicious, there are sounds of laughter, the walls and tree branches are hung with lanterns, and the laughter that comes from the heart is as noisy as the city that never sleeps.
People were walking between the tables, some holding porcelain bowls, and others sharing the food they thought was delicious.
There were gleams in people's eyes and smiles on their faces. Such a grand scene was something Yang Lizheng had never seen on the faces of the villagers.
Two village heads and a village chief sat below Old Man Yuan, drinking a little and nodding their heads in judgment.
Yang Lizheng's face turned red, but he kept leaning towards Old Man Yuan.
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