Grandma Zhou was jolted awake by the noise, but her body was too weak to move. She could only warn the two boys verbally.
“You two little brats, get lost! Don’t you dare bully these children!”
“Heh, you old hag. Look at you, half-dead already, still barking? Shut up or I’ll kill you!” Gu Zhishu said viciously without any restraint.
At seventeen, he was already fat like a huge ball, towering over Gu Rong by two full heads. He strode forward.
His bulky body knocked Gu Rong straight to the ground.
On the other side, Gu Dali—also big and strong like a young bull—easily snatched the roasted pigeon from Gu Xiaoman’s hands.
“Haha! The roast pigeon is mine!”
“Give me back my pigeon!” Gu Xiaoman rushed forward angrily, trying to grab it back, but she was too small. Her little hands reached up desperately, yet she couldn’t even touch a piece of meat.
Gu Rong’s back hit the ground hard, pain shooting through her. Remembering her sister’s instructions to guard the supplies, she forced herself up again.
She stood in front of the iron pots, her small body blocking them.
“You two thieves! Give the roasted pigeon back!”
Grandma Zhou was so angry she nearly fainted again. She tried to struggle up, only to fall back down, cursing them.
“You ungrateful little beasts… I’ll report you to the village head!”
Gu Rong rushed over to help her, but Grandma Zhou passed out and couldn’t be woken.
Gu Zhishu stared at the remaining pigeon meat in his brother’s hands, swallowing hard. Then he noticed the fragrant smell coming from the pot of pigeon soup and began to scheme.
Gu Rong sensed his intentions and grew even more anxious. Her sister wasn’t back yet—she was the only one left to handle these two beasts.
Everyone else in the group was busy cooking their own meals. Grinding her teeth, she had no choice but to shout for help.
“Everyone come and see! The two thieves from the Old Gu family are stealing our food!”
Their resting spot was a bit far from the main group; she wasn’t sure how many people would hear her.
But her shout immediately drew attention from nearby villagers. More and more people turned to look.
Gu Zhishu and Gu Dali became uneasy under the stares. They glanced around nervously. Seeing more and more people watching, they panicked and ran off in disgrace—on the way out, Gu Zhishu even grabbed half a bag of white rice.
“Don’t steal our food! Give it back!” Gu Rong cried out and chased after them, but tripped over a rock and fell hard. Her palm scraped open, pain and grievance flooding her heart as she lay on the ground and cried.
At that moment, Feng Li-zheng and his son Feng Daquan happened to be passing by after collecting firewood. Hearing the commotion, they walked over.
“Gu Rong girl, what happened?” Feng Daquan helped her up and asked.
“Uncle Daquan… they stole our half bag of grain, and the pigeons my sister hunted… Gu Zhishu and Gu Dali took them all… Grandma Zhou also fainted… wuwuwu…”
Even though Gu Rong was usually sensible, she was still only an eight-year-old child. On the road of exile, food was life itself—having it stolen felt like the sky was collapsing.
She didn’t even know how she would explain this to Gu Jiu.
Feng Daquan’s face darkened with anger. He quickly carried Grandma Zhou back to his own resting area, planning to have his wife give her some water.
Feng Li-zheng’s face was as dark as charcoal. He was already fed up with the Old Gu family causing trouble again and again.
“Rong girl, don’t cry. Come with me—we’re going to get your things back. Grandpa Feng will stand up for you!”