Her spiritual spring water, wasted like that?
"Isn't that so? You don't know what it was like back then. One person was beaten to death by him and lay on top of me. The blood... you wouldn't believe how much flowed."
Little Yan Yan still felt goosebumps rising on his skin as he recalled it, rubbing his own arms.
"How did you get hemophobia?" Ajue looked at him in surprise.
"What's so strange about that?" Tuoba Yan waved his hand and added, "The moment I see that bright red blood, my brain's memory just can't accept it."
"Huh? Isn't all human blood red? You probably haven't been injured once since you were born."
Ajue found this to be a very peculiar illness. Perhaps they could ask a doctor about it when they reached Nanming City.
"No."
"Really no? Then how many people must have protected you to raise you? Weren't you treated like a precious jewel, afraid of melting if held in the mouth or getting sunburned on your head?"
Ajue listlessly lowered her head, pinching a foxtail grass and twirling it around her fingers.
"Perhaps."
Ajue's pupils contracted. Perhaps? Didn't he know what kind of life he lived?
Ajue knew she wouldn't get a sensible answer from him, so she turned to leave.
"You don't believe me?"
Tuoba Yan easily pulled the little girl back.
"Fine, I believe you. I just think your head must have been injured before."
With that, Ajue turned and walked away.
"How did you know?"
"Ah? You really injured your head?" Ajue looked back from the boundary between shade and sunlight.
"I'll tell you when I find out."
"Hmph." Ajue plopped down in the shade.
Her mother had already finished preparing half a basket of loaches. She glanced at Tuoba Yan, who still stood frozen, looking quite awkward, clearly hesitant to approach.
He wanted to come closer but was afraid.
Ajue covered her mouth, burying her face in her knees, almost laughing until tears streamed down her face.
"Ajue, your mother is going to cook some now. The rest, we'll dry and take with us for the journey. We're short on water, but we have plenty of firewood." Cai Lihua had already made arrangements.
"Okay, Mother. You arrange it, I'll start the fire."
She had experienced similar times of near starvation during the more than a month they had fled from the Li family.
Based on her experience, thinner stone slabs were better.
Two stones were used as supports, the stone slab was wiped clean and placed on top, and a fire was lit underneath.
Soon, the stones became hot.
The skinned and gutted loaches were lined up one by one, placed on the hot slab.
They could be dried like this even without oil.
At least water was saved, a tacitly understood benefit for everyone.
"We'll eat these now, and pack these for the road," Cai Lihua had already allocated and prepared them.
The dried loaches were wrapped in clean cloth.
Ajue, not feeling hungry, picked one up and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes lit up instantly. The dried loaches were so crumbly they practically fell apart when bitten.
They were incredibly fragrant. Ajue ate quite a few: "Mother, when did you learn this skill?"
"Ahem." Meng Shaode, who was eating, quickly cleared his throat.
He knew his wife would understand. If they told Ajue that they were not from this world, it might make their daughter think they weren't her real parents. Then, how could their unfortunate daughter feel close to them in the future?
Cai Lihua naturally understood her husband's intention:
"Your father used to neglect the family and wasn't diligent. The family was dirt poor. Actually, before I married your father, your mother knew how to do everything, but there was nothing to make for you to eat. Now that we have it, you should eat more."
That made sense. Ajue felt her mother's assessment was spot on. Compared to her father in the past and now, she preferred the current one.
"Hey, kid, aren't you hungry?" Cai Lihua suddenly noticed the boy still curled up in the grass near the puddle.
"You were so brave just now, what's wrong now?"
In fact, Cai Lihua had also seen it. When she was weighing a cleaver, intending to have a moment of marital synchronicity, there was a clang.
The boy's hand had already reached out.