Star Chef, She Can Be Salty Or Sweet

Anyway, Black Star people are short-lived. Compared with those who died early, they can at least die easily, and they should be satisfied.

The woman who got the soup first left the line and stood aside, staring at the water-like liquid in the bowl for a while, then carefully brought it to her mouth and took a sip.

The seemingly clear soup has a warm and satisfying mellow aroma in the mouth. After living all these years, the mouth that has only tasted the taste of inferior nutrient solution has enjoyed the peak of taste in this taste .

The taste lingering in the mouth slowly fell down the throat and into the stomach like a soul-inducing incense, and the warm feeling poured into the limbs and internal organs at an extremely fast speed.

This feeling—

"It's... great!"

"Like a little bird, flapping its wings and flying in the sky, free and alive, life is wonderful because of it."

"The whole body becomes light, and I can't help but want to jump!"

"Want to sing, want to cheer!"

"I feel like I'm alive again, I'm so attached to life... Uh, why are you tying me up?"

The unfinished exclamation came to an abrupt end because of Da Qiao's binding action. The woman with a better complexion opened a pair of bloodshot eyes and looked at them, "I haven't felt any pain yet."

Da Qiao glanced at her, and quickly tied her into a rice dumpling and carried her down in the open space beside her, saying, "When you feel the pain, it's too late."

Before he finished speaking, he shouted to the person beside him who was glowing because of the woman's comments, "It's not your turn so soon, remember to keep an eye on her."

Everyone nodded hurriedly, "Okay, we can do this."

At this time, it is correct to help each other. After all, they also want to drink that soup. Now they stand by and watch, and when they drink it, no one will look at them.

When people are in pain, no one sees it as easy to do irrational things.

It can't be that the illness is not cured, so I toss myself to death first.

Bowls of soup were distributed by Jian Yan's hands, and he drank the soup one by one, and became a member of the zongzi under the bondage of Da Qiao and the others.

As more and more people drank the soup, those who drank it earlier had an effect.

If the genes of patients with severe genetic diseases want to be repaired, the pain they need to endure is a hundred times and a thousand times that of the moderate and mild ones. Few people can bear this pain.

Hou Shanbai, who is not weak, is the best example.

Compared with Hou Shanbai, these people are far behind.

Therefore, in the huge square, the sounds of painful wailing, screaming, roaring, cursing, etc. can be heard endlessly.

They want to roll, howl, and kill, but there are two or three people around them staring at them, suppressing them, making them unable to do anything except open their mouths to vent.

There are those who are weak in tolerance and can't bear it any longer, so they beg the person who is staring at them to knock him out.

Some people fainted because they got what they wanted, and some people didn't faint because the guards couldn't bear it, so they could only carry it to death.

Carrying and carrying, the pain disappeared, followed by an indescribable sense of relief.

That kind of soul seems to be a few catties lighter, and the feeling of being in the air is so comfortable that the comfortable person can't help sighing.

"Uncle Moser, how do you feel?" One of the young men in charge of guarding asked curiously as he poked his target with his finger.

Uncle Moser is an old man in his seventies or eighties, but his actual age is only in his early forties.