Lin Huahua ran into the cave house with quick little steps, her mood bouncing back so fast that it really made people wonder if this little rat had hidden a spring under her feet.
The inside of the cave house was cool and dim, but it was not ugly at all. The stone walls had been cleaned properly, and there were dried herbs hanging from one side, bundles of animal hide folded neatly in another corner, and a few flat stone tables that had been rubbed smooth from long use.
The air still held the smell of roasted meat, firewood, and the faint fresh scent of leaves that Mu Qingyi had probably cleaned earlier. Outside, the world looked rough and wild, full of dirt paths and old stone shelters, but inside this place there was still warmth. It felt lived in. It felt safe.
Lin Huahua stood in the middle and looked around with bright eyes, as if she was a little commander inspecting her territory.
Then she thought of the leaves.
Then she thought of the meat.
