709 A Pot of Meat…

"How old is that God of Berserkers this year?" The woman blinked and looked at the old man before her with a smile, then placed a seed in her mouth and bit down on it.

"Others might not know about Su Ming, but I know him too well, he's…" As the old man who was actually the transformed bald crane continued chattering away, the huge yellow dog under the woman's feet cast a sideways glance at him before shaking its head. There was a look of pity and compassion on its face when it sashayed its way to Qian Chen, who was pretending to be dead by the side.

As it walked around Qian Chen's body, the yellow mutt stuck out its nose and sniffed him carefully before sticking out its tongue to lick his face a few times. A large amount of slob fell down on Qian Chen face, but he did not dare move.