The bonfire was lit, and Mo Qingyi stared at the flame without blinking, adding a piece of dry wood from time to time. Mo Shili stood at the side and looked at her affectionately, but he didn't extend his hand to help. If he was willing to help, he only needed to use his true fire and he could easily make a delicious beggar's chicken. However, this was mo Qingyi's happiness and he didn't want to take it away.
After a while, mo Qingyi put out the bonfire and used a wooden stick to push the fire aside. As a result, a ... A pitch-black, charred chicken appeared in front of them. It was charred on the outside, but it was half-cooked on the inside.
"Why is it like this again?" Mo Qingyi said in distress as she looked at the pile of burnt ashes in front of her. After all the trouble just now, her face was covered in charcoal ash, and she looked like a little kitten.