The seven-colored wild chickens scattered in all directions. Feng Qing, unable to split himself into multiple forms, only managed to kill three before the rest vanished without a trace.
Since Song Liuhua was still there, he didn’t dare to venture too far. Carrying the three seven-colored wild chickens, he returned.
Seeing this, Song Liuhua wasn’t disappointed. Instead, she proudly revealed the large basket behind her, saying, “It’s almost full.”
Inside the half-person-tall brown bamboo basket was a pile of oval-shaped white eggs. Feng Qing’s gaze was unusually dazed.
After a moment of silence, he handed over the three seven-colored wild chickens he was holding.
With a wave of her hand, Song Liuhua stored them in her space. This space wasn’t suitable for storing goods, but it worked well for food—unfortunately, it didn’t preserve freshness. “How many did you find?”
Feng Qing tilted his basket to show her. At the bottom, lined with dry grass, a pitiful dozen or so seven-colored wild chicken eggs rolled slightly.
Song Liuhua thought, “Well, it’s only natural that Feng Qing can’t compare to someone as brilliant as me.”
Feng Qing: Only silence could spare him from the awkwardness.
Encouraged by her success, Song Liuhua searched even more diligently.
After a morning of hard work, they had combed through the entire wild grassland and harvested a full three large baskets of seven-colored wild chicken eggs.
Along the way, they also found a patch of wild celery and gathered over ten baskets of it.
However, not a single stalk of the wild spirit rice she had been hoping to find was in sight.
The chef, Feng Yin, was a slightly plump middle-aged man who oversaw the meals for Feng Ci’s team with the help of a few low-level Martial Spirit Masters. When he saw the seven-colored wild chicken eggs she brought out, he was momentarily stunned, then nearly spun around in excitement, clutching his ladle.
Rubbing his hands together, he looked at Song Liuhua somewhat sheepishly. “Madam, could I possibly buy some of these seven-colored wild chicken eggs? My wife hasn’t been in good health since she gave birth the year before last. I’d like to buy fifty… no, just thirty to help nourish her.”
Meeting his hopeful gaze, Song Liuhua agreed readily.
“Sure, take thirty back with you.”
She and Feng Qing had found nearly eighteen hundred seven-colored wild chicken eggs that morning, filling three baskets. “As for the rest, once we return, distribute them as perks to the spirit masters in the team. Each person can take some, with Artifact Refiners and pharmacists receiving a bit more. You handle the specifics.”
“Yes!” Feng Yin and his assistants beamed, their eyes shining.
Compliments flowed from them like water, one after another.
Song Liuhua’s lips curved slightly. After all, these were her subordinates, and offering them benefits within her means was a way to repay their respect.
She could tell that, aside from a few who were somewhat discontent, most of Feng Ci’s clansmen held her in high regard. Since that was the case, when she came across something good, she saw no reason not to let them share in the rewards.
At noon, Feng Ci did not return. Feng Yin prepared a separate meal for her: grilled venison, spicy rabbit, stir-fried wild celery, chilled mixed gray vegetables, and a seven-colored wild chicken egg drop soup.
Feng Yin’s culinary skills were excellent, and the dishes were a feast for the senses. After a morning of labor, Song Liuhua was so hungry she felt her stomach touching her backbone. She finished most of the meal.
No wonder raising a person costs so much, she mused. When she was in poor health and had a small appetite, it wasn’t so noticeable, but now that she was almost fully recovered, she ate much more.
Song Liuhua sighed inwardly.
After a nap, she spent the afternoon in the refining room, ruining two more batches of medicine. Feng Li and Feng Su had long given up on saving her from her failures. Bored, Song Liuhua went out to the wild to play with mud.
She sprinkled water on fresh soil and kneaded it like dough until it became smooth and fine.
Passersby couldn’t help but feel both envy and jealousy upon seeing her in this state.
Their sour remarks slipped out involuntarily.
After Xie Huai Sheng advanced to the third rank, he gathered people to form a small mercenary group. His younger sister Xie Qing Qing and his wife, Miss Wang San, were also with him. Xie Liu Shi had been stationed at the mercenary base these past few days, digging for wild vegetables on another hill with the families of the mercenary team. Yesterday, the two groups had drawn closer, and now she found herself digging in this area.
When she saw Song Liuhua playing with mud, the humiliation from their last visit to the Song family to break off the engagement surged back. Unable to hold back her bitterness, she sneered, “Well, well, the Song girl has certainly climbed to a higher branch. Before marriage, she at least knew to dig wild vegetables to help support the family. But now that she’s married, she’s changed—playing with mud instead.”
“If I were the fourth young master of the Feng family, I’d divorce a wasteful woman like you sooner or later.”
Song Liuhua, fully absorbed in kneading the mud, was abruptly interrupted by the sharp, acrid voice. She looked up to see Xie Liu Shi holding a basket of wild vegetables, a messy mix of old and tender greens, in her coarse hands.
Xie Liu Shi looked down on her with contempt.
Song Liuhua shot her a glance. “Psycho, what business is it of yours, an outsider with no relation? If you’ve eaten too much salt and have nothing better to do, hurry up and have your daughter-in-law give you a grandson so you can go home and lick his butt.”
With that, Song Liuhua turned around, presenting the back of her head to her.
Xie Liu Shi was so furious she stamped her feet, but since they were on the Feng family’s turf and many people were watching, she could only stomp away in resentment.
Song Liuhua rolled her eyes and continued kneading the mud in her hands.
Some people were just plain vile.
The large lump of mud was moist but not wet, sticky but not messy—perfect for molding small tea sets, bowls, and plates.
Song Liuhua pinched off a small piece from the larger lump, kneading and shaping it. Her fair, delicate fingers moved with nimble grace, and soon, a palm-sized clay bowl took form in her hands.
She repeated the process all afternoon, crafting ten small bowls in total.
By the time she finished, the sun was slowly setting.
Hunting teams from various major families returned one after another, and the spacious safe base instantly buzzed with activity. The kitchens of each household began emitting the fragrant aroma of meals.
Song Liuhua stood on the flying boat, watching for a long time until she finally spotted the Feng family’s team. Feng Ci led the way, with Feng Shan on his left and her elder brother Song Yuan on his right. Both were chatting cheerfully with him, and Feng Ci listened with a gentle expression, nodding from time to time.
The day’s harvest was substantial: they had hunted one second-rank Silver-Striped Deer, one third-rank Flame Bull, and one first-rank Black Rock Pig. The Martial Spirit Masters skillfully began butchering the Exotic Beast Meat.
Feng Ci and Song Yuan boarded the flying boat one after the other.
It was only the third month of the Warm Season, but seeing them covered in grime, their hair soaked with sweat, Song Liuhua hurriedly ushered them into their rooms and had hot water brought over.
The sound of splashing water echoed from inside the room.
Song Liuhua leaned against the railing on the deck of the flying boat, watching the bustling activity of the various major families.
On the neighboring Qin family’s flying boat, Qin Ye emerged from his room.
Their eyes met, and Song Liuhua quickly shifted her gaze to the sky, pretending not to see him.
Qin Ye narrowed his eyes and descended from the flying boat.
“What’s up there in the sky?”
Feng Ci’s voice suddenly sounded beside her ear, startling Song Liuhua. She patted her chest in surprise.
Turning her head, she found Feng Ci standing behind her. He had changed into a moon-white casual robe, his clear, handsome face adorned with crystal-like eyes that held a hint of amusement as he tilted his head to look at her. Song Liuhua clenched her fist and gave him a light punch, chiding, “Do you have to walk without making a sound?”
Feng Ci chuckled softly, catching his wife’s small fist before pulling her into his embrace.
“Did I startle you? That was my fault.”
His deep, mellow laughter resonated by her ear, his warm breath brushing against her earlobe. Song Liuhua shifted uncomfortably out of his arms, glanced away, and hummed, “I forgive you.”
Song Yuan emerged from the adjacent room, grinned at the sight, and walked away.
The evening breeze on the deck carried a slight chill. Worried she might catch cold, Feng Ci took her hand and led her back inside to add another layer of clothing.