Seven-year-old Jiang Tuntun pressed her ear flat against the bunny-embroidered electric blanket, then clutched her own round belly in immediate sympathy.
GRRRRRROOOOOOOOWL~!
The second stomach rumble from inside the swaddled black-silver dragon egg was so loud it echoed off the obsidian steps and rattled the teacups inside the camper van.
“Daddy! Little Fifth’s tummy is singing the hungry song!” Jiang Tuntun gasped, her big round eyes brimming with urgent concern as she patted the warm quilt.
“When my tummy makes that noise, if I don’t get a snack in five minutes, I feel like a deflated dumpling!
And Little Fifth hasn’t eaten breakfast for three hundred years!”
“Three hundred years without a single bowl of warm milk,” Auntie Qin murmured, her heart aching as she checked the golden system medical chart hovering over the egg. “Those heartless Upper-Realm beasts only pumped cold nutrient-preservative fluid into the altar to keep the marrow alive while they drained it. The poor baby has never once tasted what real food feels like.”
Gu Changsheng read the glowing prompt twice:.
