Never mind. Making mud cakes still required a small amount of flour and salt. Even at a 10:1 or 100:1 ratio, Jing Shu couldn't afford it. Otherwise, it would be literally eating dirt, and who could stomach that?
Jing Shu lowered her head, covering her face as she looked at the fat chicken, which had grown another layer of plumpness. Oh, there it was, the fat chicken, head down, pecking at the dirt. It pranced on its 'noble' chicken claws, carefully wandering the villa's back hill. While pecking at the ground, it excitedly stomped in the mud with the new rubber shoes Grandma Jing had made for it.
