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... ked like a wild man with disheveled hair and a dirty face, crouched in front of a fire pit skewering a sizzling, oily pheasant with his Cold Moon Blade, happily flipping it and sprinkling salt.

Suddenly, he paused in his salting, looked up with a smile, and said, "Arrived? Have you eaten?"

An old man in black Taoist robes, just as disheveled, walked slowly to the fire pit and replied, "Not yet!"

Yang Ge reached out and tore off a greasy chicken leg, handing it over, "Here ...

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