When Xing Chen and Qiao An returned to the cabin on the mountain, the sky was already dark. Xing Chen was busy washing the herbs and making medicine. Qiao An was already hungry, but she also knew that saving people was like putting out a fire. She didn't dare disturb Xing Chen. Instead, she went to the sweet potato field alone and dug up a few sweet potatoes. After washing them, she ate.
Xing Chen heard her biting into the sweet potato and turned around to see her sitting casually on a stone stool, chewing on a sweet potato with relish. He was stunned.
Was she really not picky at all?
He walked over and pulled the sweet potato out of her mouth. "Don't eat it raw," he said. "I'll roast it for you."
Xing Chen buried the sweet potato in the firewood and smiled at Qiao An. "We'll eat it after it's cooked."
Bored, Qiao An sat down beside him.