Holding Bengbeng in one arm, Su Liyan's father said, "I'll go get some from the pickling jar in the courtyard. We can soak them in water for a while."
This was a complete change from his usual behavior; he was no longer acting like the lord of the manor at home.
Bengbeng, held in her grandfather's single arm, found the rough hand against her tender calf uncomfortable. She started tugging on his beard and babbled, "Hurts!"
His other hand holding the pickled vegetables he'd just fished out of the jar, Su Liyan's father chuckled at his granddaughter. "So you know pulling a beard hurts, do you?"
...
Lu Yuan sat cross-legged on the kang bed. After his wife left early in the morning, he had a simple breakfast and returned to his room.
Lu Yuan planned to use this time to refine the Flying Corpse's eerie blue Flame and make it his own.
