In the vast, desolate mountains and forests, a middle-aged man with a scar on his face was slowly walking along the mountain forest toward a clear little Xiaoxi.
It could be seen that his legs didn't seem very good; his right leg was injured, and when he walked, his slight limp was clearly visible.
In the man's hand, he was carrying two pheasants. When he arrived at the side of the Xiaoxi, the man let out a light breath, put down the pheasants, carefully plucked their feathers, let their blood out, then used a few pieces of dead wood on the spot to put together a simple grill. After strenuously forcing out a wisp of Energy to ignite the dead branches, he placed the cleaned pheasants on top and began roasting them.
The man's clothes looked somewhat tattered, and there were even quite a few patches of dried, dark red bloodstains on them.
As he was roasting the pheasants, the man looked up and suddenly发现 it had started to drizzle from the sky.
