Under Mo Shangjun's disdainful prevention, Ding Jing ultimately didn't waste any more matches on setting that stick aflame again.
Yan Gui sighed, looking heavy-hearted, and ran next door to wash the tomatoes.
In the pitch-black slum, having stayed here for a long time, Mo Shangjun was familiar with all the arrangements, so in the dark environment, she came directly to Ding Jing's side, effortlessly picking up a bun from the leaves. It was hard as a rock, and with a little force, she broke it in half.
She handed one half to Ding Jing, "Here, happy birthday."
"Oh, I almost forgot."
Ding Jing suddenly recalled the birthday they haphazardly set last night with Mo Shangjun and took the bun she handed over without hesitation.
Taking a bite of the extremely tough bun, Ding Jing casually asked, "By the way, did you prepare any birthday gifts for me?"
"I'll get you a complete set of Five Three another day."
"...We've been adults for so long, no need to be so formal."
