To Qiao Xiaomai, carrying one hundred steamed buns wasn't a burden. A sack hung over her shoulder, and four sets of clothes lay in the basket on her back. Qiao Dami held a small basket, which contained a bowl of boiled fish and a plate of braised chicken feet. The siblings appeared at the old courtyard gate of the Qiao Family.
People in the old courtyard were having lunch. Zhu Cuiying had cut the five white steamed buns Qiao Xiaomai had given her the day before into pieces, and stir-fried them with wild vegetables in a pan, serving a spoonful to each person.
Besides the fried steamed buns, there were also coarse flour steamed buns and thin Xiaomi porridge that could serve as mirrors.
Seeing the Qiao siblings, Qiao Qinghe put down his bowl and stood up. His brows furrowed tightly, "What are you two doing here? Go back home!"