Little Ancestor's eyes widened as he watched Xue Yao work.
"You're good at this," he said, unable to hide the admiration in his voice.
Xue Yao smiled faintly without looking up. Her hands continued moving with calm, practiced ease as she cleaned the chickens, as though every step had long since become second nature. "When food tries to escape and your stomach threatens to go on strike…" she replied casually, "…you learn."
Little Ancestor considered her answer for a moment before giving a solemn nod. "That makes sense."
Xue Yao chuckled softly but didn't explain herself. There were too many memories behind those simple words—days when catching a single rabbit or bird meant surviving another night. Those weren't stories she wanted to tell.
She quickly finished unaliving both chickens before hanging a large pot of water over the fire. As the flames heated the bottom of the pot, thin streams of steam gradually curled upward into the cool night air.
