"Good!"
The Wei Army soldiers hurriedly untied their carry bags.
From the bags, they took out a large naan, their staple food during marches and battles.
It looked bigger than a steamed bun, but in the cold winter, it wasn't much softer, hard to bite into.
Without water, it was impossible to swallow.
"Pity there's no firewood; otherwise, we could heat up the naan, mix it with some water, and have some soup to drink—this weather is too cold!"
Grumbled one of the Wei Army soldiers.
These words were just overheard by Lu Yuanfeng.
"Who said there's no firewood? There's a cabin ahead with firewood and water!" Lu Yuanfeng pointed to the near distance.
"Water? Firewood? Is there really such a thing?"
When the Wei Army saw Lu Yuanfeng and his group, it wasn't for fighting over water and firewood.
It was genuinely to take their lives.
Yet fate is ironic; sworn enemies now sat together, temporarily setting aside their hatred.
