Qin Yining chased after the figure for many steps, but she couldnât keep up. She had to settle for watching the pelt-wearing child vanish into the bushes.
This was a patch of mountains so isolated that even hunters wouldnât venture here. There were no signs of human habitation whatsoever. Why would a child of roughly eight years old appear here?
Is there a village nearby?
Deeply mystified, Qin Yiningâs attention was quickly caught by the wild rabbit.
It was a slightly fattened, gray rabbit. Its fur had been roughly handled and itâd been roasted. However, it was apparent that the cook wasnât very skilled as the rabbit was still a bloody mess. It hadnât even been cleaned of its organs.
The Qin fourth miss guessed that this was the handiwork of the child from earlier. I wonder when I was discovered.
But of one thing she was certain, and that was the child bore her no hostility. Thanks to her perception honed from years of habit, sheâd detected no enmity. Besides, if the child really did feel hostility, she wouldnât have gifted such valuable food to a stranger.
Qin Yining picked up the rabbit and walked a bit into the distance with a dagger. After carefully removing the innards and cutting off the charred fur, she buried them all into the snow so that the scent of gore wouldnât attract other wild animals. She then carefully washed her hands and the rabbit with snow, again burying the dirty snow before returning to her shelter.
The fire had burned down by now, so she fetched some more firewood.
Now that she had a machete and short sword, it was much easier to chop firewood. She could also shave off the wet bark so that her fire would produce much less smoke.
Hanging the rabbit up onto branches, she hoisted the meat over the fire and roasted it slowly.
Though there was no salt, the fragrance of cooking meat made her stomach churn uncomfortably. Sheâd had only a skinny, roasted frog over the past two days and was absolutely famished.
Right at this time, she heard the rustling of small animals moving through snow. Lifting her eyes in the direction of the sound, she saw a small figure crouched behind the bushes.
Perhaps because theyâd seen each other just now, the child didnât take off running as soon as their eyes met. Remaining close to the ground, it cautiously shuffled forward, craning its neck and wrinkling a nose set in a dirty face to sniff at the smell of roasting rabbit.
Qin Yining broke into an involuntary smile.
âHello there. Did you catch this rabbit?â She waved at the child as she turned the rabbit over.
The sound of her voice seemed to have startled the child. Big, bright eyes blinking blankly were the only answer. This perplexed Qin Yining. The child looked eight years old, so it should be able to understand her, right?
Or was it part of a tribe that lived deep in the mountains, rejecting communication with the outside world? Or maybe it didnât understand her language?
She cut off a piece of cooked meat and reached a hand out to the child. âThis is for you.â Gestures accompanied her words, out of consideration that the child might not understand.
Meaning was successfully conveyed in the end. It scampered over like an agile monkey and stooped next to Qin Yining, prudently reaching out with grubby hands to grab the meat from the tip of the dagger.