Doomsday Pavilion

It's time to show the real technology, then we have to use a line that is so familiar: leave everything to time.

That's right-technology is indeed technology, a technology that cannot be surpassed by imitating it, but it is not Lin Chou's technology.

Simmer lamb in a large pot for at least two and a half hours, and lamb head with spicy lamb's feet for at least three and a half hours...

As for the pit roast, when roasting, all the open flames should be removed and all the yellow mud bags should be buried with hot charcoal. After the bones of the first two have been eaten, it can barely make its debut.

Well, barely.

Lin Chou looked at the time,

"Yes, tomorrow I will have to ask Bao Er to buy two of the best earplugs, and I will use cotton rags to deal with them tonight."

This group of guys were determined to be unable to leave anymore, and the grunts on the front hillside had to resound as mountains and cracks.

At this moment, please allow Lin Chou to have a wish to dare to be alone. He is looking forward to the rapid growth of the home tree.

The home tree is still growing too slowly now, it's best to be so high that you can't hear the grunt below.

Lin Chou stepped out and saw Leng Han sternly teaching Zhao Ziyu.

"Except this time, which time did you sneak out? Huh?"

"At a young age, greedy, sleepy, and playful, do you think you can relax with the same ability as your grandfather?"

"Look at your Second Uncle Zhao. He practiced till late at night and often retreats! Look at you again, Grandpa Zhao always catches you to retreat with bright light!"

The entire Yanhui Mountain was quiet, only Leng Han's low-decibel voice echoed like an ice ridge.

Poor Zhao Ziyu looked at this and that, and those who were seen took two steps back without exception, looking neatly at the sky.

It just so happened that Zhao Ziyu also saw him, and hope suddenly appeared in his eyes.

The eyes were facing each other, everything seemed to be in the air-Boss Lin's stepped foot suddenly came back lightly.

"..."

Zhao Ziyu almost broke his teeth in one bite.

(Brother Sorrow, you are not righteous!)

(I, Zhao Ziyu, I misunderstood you!)

The temperature drops sharply.

"Why don't I ask you, distracted?"

Zhao Ziyu immediately said pitifully,

"Sister, I know I was wrong, I will retreat when I go back!"

"Cultivation and practice again-if the earth does not explode, I will not have a holiday; if the universe does not restart, I will not rest!"

Leng Han's eyes dimmed slightly, and he swept away Zhao Ziyu's "firm skin power" like a rotten one.

Zhao Ziyu trembled suddenly,

"Sister, elder sister! If you have something to say, don't move your feet...hands! I'm still young, elder sister! I'm telling the truth, but the words are not rough, elder sister!"

Leng Han's brows wrung deeper,

"Who taught you these words?"

(It's over, the skin is big!)

Where can Zhao Ziyu dare to say that it was ridiculed by his second uncle every day, so it is estimated that the second uncle would have to be dipped in cold water by the grandfather half crocodile dragon skin whip when he went back - even the cousin's whip was taught by the grandfather. Of it!

To say that two and a half of the people present were able to solve the danger of Young Master Zhao:

One Lin Chou, one Sikong, Huang Dashan is the half.

Because Shan Ye's way of relieving the siege mainly depends on whether the skin and fleshy skin are enough to be porcelain.

Brother Chou can't count on it, and Lord Shan is completely unreliable, so there is only one option left.

"..."

Sikong sighed, took out the handkerchief he had not used for a long time from his pocket and put it to his mouth, holding his chest in one hand.

"Cough cough cough cough cough cough cough cough~"

The violent coughing drew everyone's attention, including Leng Han.

Sikong wiped the corner of his mouth, and the handkerchief was shockingly red.

Everyone was shocked,

"Fuck, Young Master Sikong, you...you..."

"What's wrong? What's wrong, this is!"

Leng Han questioned,

"Aren't you getting better, why are you doing this again?"

Sikong's face was pale without a trace of blood, and he squeezed his vital capacity.

"Tired, tired... morning class... soup, Lin Chou's soup..."

Leng Han glanced over Shen Daru, who was unconscious on a certain table.

"You wait, I'll find Lin Chou."

After Leng Han went in, Zhao Ziyu jumped up and hugged Sikong, very moved.

"Woo, Sikong is still interesting enough for you, you are so kind to me."

Zhao Ziyu raised his thumb.

"Professional, too professional! By the way, I didn't see when your blood was put in your mouth, what kind of blood, pig blood, it looks exactly the same..."

Sikong bulged his eyes and ruined with anger.

"Go away, it's Lao Tzu's own blood!"

Zhao Ziyu wailed for a long time,

"It's really vomiting blood! You...are you okay?"

Sikong drank a glass of water and gargled his mouth.

After spitting out the water, he said with a smile,

"Do you think that the illness has been born for so many years? Isn't it just a simple mouth to vomit some blood?"

Everyone: "..."

Then Sikong's eyes moved, and his face instantly turned pale again.

Leng Han came out.

Leng Han hurriedly walked to him with the soup bowl, and squeezed Sikong's mouth hard.

"Kay."

His mouth was wide open like a city gate, and Sikong's little tongue could be seen vaguely.

The soup was poured in smoothly--

Ball, sack of balls...

Why did the crisp "click" just now??

Tang had already entered his stomach, and Si Kong had come back to his senses.

His eyes suddenly rounded, his mouth was huge, and there was only one syllable.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah"

——The performance of whoever puts his chin off by violence is almost the same.

Everyone: "..."

They only feel that there is a terrifying cold air from the base of their tails straight to the back of their heads, which can only be relieved by inhaling and inhaling.

Zhao Ziyu was about to cry, squatting and saying,

"Sister... Sikong... Isn't Sikong unaware... he can drink..."

Zhao Ziyu felt that he was going to be a dog soon and was beaten to death by Sagong.

"?"

Leng Han frowned and thought, a blush covering his neck and rising to his cheeks.

Lin Chou, who came out with Leng Han, glanced at Sikong left and right, stretched out his hand and pushed.

"Kah~"

Closely fit.

Sikong hugged his chin and squatted down, squeezing forward with his face toward the ground and shaking his shoulders silently.

Everyone: "......"

Calm, calm, inhale.

Poor Young Master Sikong, I guess he has never experienced this kind of pain when he grows up like this-or twice in a row!

Lin Chou blinked innocently,

"It'll be fine for a while. This is me. If you get a big breasted sister, she will cut your face with a knife and put the hook on you again."

Sikong squatted on the spot and continued to tremble, a breath called sadness rose from his scrawny back.

Of course, others might think it was sad and desolate, but Young Master Zhao touched him the resentment of the cracked wall that made him chill.

Sikong trembled for a long time before he stood up again, wiped away his tears, and asked,

"It's absolutely okay for you to pick it up? If it's crooked, you have to pick it up again? How can you, a cook, give people bones casually?"

No one would want to experience this kind of unsuspecting disaster more times.

Lin Chou felt that his profession was questioned and insulted.

"What a joke!"

"The half of my life (xiè) eats more salt than you eat. If you look at the skin of your eyes and a kitchen knife with one hand, you can take it apart and put it back together. Believe it or not, one more scratch on the bones and cartilage will count as me lose. Don’t you just reach out for a chin? Take a look at the braised silver carp head?"

Leng Han: "..."

Zhao Ziyu: "..."

Everyone: "..."

Sikong swallowed his saliva with a grunt.

——I can't just admit defeat, as if my son can win.