After the noodles were ready, the three of them started to slurp.
The three of them sat together, slurping in unison—it looked quite funny at first glance.
Upon closer inspection, it was even funnier.
Lin Murong quickly slurped up all his noodles and drank up the soup. Clutching the noodle bucket, he stared at the empty container and sighed deeply.
He still missed the pickled pancake.
It wasn't that the noodles weren't tasty, but pickled pancakes had become his unattainable love.
What one can't have always seems the best.
He still wanted to eat a pickled pancake.
"Sighing, huh?" Yun Wujiu had also finished his noodles. Seeing Lin Murong like this, he patted him on the shoulder.
After the apocalypse, their eating speeds had all become quite fast.
Because no one knew if the food might get snatched away the next second.
Even though they were quite capable, they ate quickly.
It had become a habit.
Food was only secure once it was in their stomachs.
