In Central Continent City’s western outskirts, there were large amounts of vegetable fields.

The chinese cabbage in the vegetable fields had already been harvested, but there was also a lot of chinese cabbage that experienced frost damage, lying on the ground, wilted.

These somewhat wilted looking chinese cabbage were when they were most delicious.

They only needed to add some meat fat, stir fry it a bit, and then it would become the most simple but truly delicious delicacy.

Next to this vegetable field were some thinly spread roof tile houses.

Within one of the houses, a thirty something year old vegetable farmer was currently eating dinner with his wife.

This vegetable farmer’s hands were frostbitten, his appearance also a bit sharp mouthed monkey cheeked, figure not that large and tall. He only looked extremely shrewd, wearing an old leather jacket.

His wife was a bit chubby, dressed in the fine flower coat that was popular in Central Continent City this spring, looking like she had a bit of charm.

It was clear that this year’s harvest wasn’t bad, the two’s face carrying joy. There was a small jar of wine next to the small fireplace. On the table, apart from the stewed green vegetables and oil fried cabbage that was always there, there was a pot of stewed pork and simmer-fried...