Under these circumstances, if he wanted to keep playing the game and didn't face a strict time limit, Su Mo might have continued playing dumb for a while to carefully observe how Pei Shao had changed over the past eight years.
But now...
"Master Pei, please stop working for a moment. I'm not hungry at all right now; I just have a favor to ask," Su Mo said.
"Oh? Mr. Su is being so polite today. I'm just a useless old man who knows how to cook a few dishes. How could I possibly help you?" Startled for a moment, Pei Shao took off his tall chef's hat and shook his head repeatedly.
Now over forty, eight years in the wasteland had taken a heavy toll on him. Whether it was the immense exhaustion from endless daily labor or the unbearable torment of wasteland survival, he looked much older than Su Mo remembered. To Su Mo, Pei Shao hadn't just aged five or ten years—he seemed ancient.
