The next morning, Li Xianglu tugged at the already pitch-black-faced Qin Xi, whispering, "Alright, the outcome wasn't too bad, now eat up, we still have to head out after breakfast."
Qin Xi helplessly picked up his bowl of porridge and took a sip, while Qin Zhen shrank his shoulders in fear, trying his best to make himself less noticeable. The aura emanating from his older brother was too frightening, reminiscent of the times during his childhood when he'd be in trouble, and even their dad wouldn't dare to speak up.
Li Jianqing also sat upright and silent, and everyone quietly ate their breakfast.
It was the eighth day of the month, and Sister Xing came over early in the morning, only to find that right inside the yard's entrance there was a large, dirty patch of vomit. She hurriedly cleaned it up and came in to ask, concerned, who had thrown up.
