The soup made from the Cloud Wing Bird was thick and white, with a delicious taste.
Without using green onions or ginger to remove any gameyness, and without adding any other ingredients, merely throwing the Cloud Wing Bird into boiling water yielded this effect.
"If we added a bit of salt, it would taste even better."
Little White Ape shuffled forward and muttered, "Too bad we didn't bring any."
"There... there's some here..."
The middle-aged man stuttered as he spoke, hurrying to open his knapsack, rummaging for a while before he managed to pull out a palm-sized leather pouch, which was further wrapped in a soft layer of tree bark and ultimately in a layer of oiled cloth.
Inside was only a pinch of salt, already damp and turned yellow, obviously treasured for a long time, saved frugally for today.
Such quality of salt, even if placed in Linjiang Square of High Willow City, would be considered the poorest type of inferior salt.
