Sizzle...
The mutton, filled with cumin and chili, emanated an alluring aroma.
Jiang Hao rotated the skewers and took a deep breath, saying to Jiang Yuan, "Cumin must have a grudge against sheep. Without its distinct flavor, we wouldn't be able to eat so much mutton."
"Probably some wild sheep ate its whole family," Mu Zhiyang said as he moved a chair to sit by, alternating between sips of beer and bites of mutton, truly in a festive mood.
Jiang Hao really liked Mu Zhiyang's style. He clinked his beer bottle against Mu's, laughing: "Wild sheep ate the ancestors of cumin, then after years of relentless mutation, cumin has finally led domestic goats and sheep to prosperous days, tragically beautiful."
"Brother Hao is quite poetic. You could consider building a guesthouse here in the mountains. Those who eat plain steamed buns with pickles can stay for free and can also be treated to some roast mutton, finally becoming the Jiali Village's timely hero," Mu Zhiyang joked.
