Not long after Qiao Xiaomai descended the mountain, Child Third reappeared from behind a large tree.
His gaze settled on the large pile of firewood, his expression complex.
Qiao Xiaomai had wandered on the mountain for nearly two hours, gathering dried wood in both thick and thin sizes. Thick pieces were as large as an arm, like a small tree, the thinnest about the size of a thumb. All this together was a heap of firewood taller than her.
By Child Third's estimation, the pile of firewood must have weighed close to a hundred jin.
Yet Qiao Xiaomai, grabbing the hemp rope with one hand, walked down the path with ease. From time to time, she would even hop joyfully as though she was in a good mood.
It was evident that carrying thirty-four copper coins had tired her out during their last encounter. How had she suddenly become so strong now?
And she even hopped...
With a wild chicken in hand, Child Third walked towards his home with a complicated expression in the twilight hour.