"The food's here." Fortunately, Sikong Qinglan didn't forget and quickly walked in with a basket of food.
"What's delicious?" Ling Baobao asked expectantly, with eyes gleaming.
"It's rather simple, hope you don't mind." Sikong Qinglan said apologetically.
"No problem, no problem, I'm tired of gnawing on dried meat every day; something simple is good too." Ling Baobao took the basket with a smile, opened the lid, and then his smile froze on his face.
A few bowls of thin porridge, some coarse-grain buns, and a plate of pickled vegetables. Initially, he thought Sikong Qinglan was just being humble, but it turned out to be truly this simple.
Even someone like Han Yan, who never fussed over food, found it a bit shabby. No wonder Sikong Qinglan was so hungry at the welcome feast in Mu Family Village, almost nibbling on the plates; life in the temple really was tough.
