Duan Ye swatted her hand away and glared at her. "Two big men should keep their hands off each other."
"Hahahaha…" Feng Jiu burst into laughter and patted his shoulder. "So to speak, you're sensible."
Hearing this, Duan Ye's lips twitched. He was indeed sensible - if not, he'd be tormented by her. He didn't deny that, except for the little fatty, the other two weren't as easy to fool as the little fatty.
They settled down at the inn, eating tasty food and living well, while Ning Lang spent a day in the cage hungry. The next morning, starving, he was taken to the mountain behind the underground market to dig up the ore and transport it.
Under the scorching sun, sweat streaming on his back, his hands and feet were worn and blistered. He was hungry and tired, his whole body was aching. The bruises on his face were still there and he was smeared with soot. He cut a sorry figure everywhere.
"Alas... I quit. I'm out of strength. I can't move. "
