Chapter 361

A gray curtain hung beneath the sky, and faint stars dotted the darkness, standing out particularly clearly.

Inside the suite of an apartment, the clean and tidy living room was brightly lit. Misty vapor drifted above the room like mountain clouds, and the “culprit” was a hotpot stove on the dining table. A glass lid covered the pot, and the escaping steam condensed on it into traces like rainwater crawling over a window.

The three women sat beside the dining table, all looking expectantly at the gradually cooked ingredients in the pot. Each of them held chopsticks in hand, poised and ready, as if with a single command, they could claim their own spoils from the pot.