Uncle Ya wore a deeply suspicious expression.
How had he not known about this?
Back then, he and his master had found Su Qiao's Father in the mountains, injured after being mauled by a wild beast. Since they had nowhere else to go anyway, they brought him back.
But he died that very night.
Uncle Ya carefully recalled what had happened that night. His master really had gone out.
Later, his master had insisted on staying with this group and refused to leave.
Could it be because he and Miss Su had already been betrothed at the time?
Or had he promised to take care of Miss Su before Su Qiao's Father died?
While Uncle Ya hesitated, Little Xiucai had already pushed him toward the door. "Cousin, it's late. Hurry back and get some rest. My wife and I need to rest too."
Uncle Ya opened and closed his mouth, wanting to say something, but finally sighed and turned to leave.
Little Xiucai did not pay him any attention. As soon as he left, he hurriedly lowered the straw mat serving as the door, then happily ran back to the corner.
Su Qiao spread the hay out a little more and padded it with some old clothes. She lay down on the outside, patted the space inside, and said, "Hurry up and sleep."
All day long, she had not only needed to guard against others but also had to help him make up stories. She was quite tired too.
Little Xiucai hurriedly took off his shoes, crawled over, and obediently lay down.
As if remembering something, he sat up again, took a padded jacket from his own body, and draped it over Su Qiao. "Wife, I'll cover you properly with a blanket. You can't catch cold."
Su Qiao also picked