Gu Qiaoqiao looked down at the paper-wrapped bundle in the pot.
The black, oily fruit was delicious.
She really did enjoy eating it.
In summer, she would search the entire garden for the black, oily fruit to eat.
But she had never thought that the fruit could also be dried in the sun.
Gu Qiaoqiao opened the paper bundle and took out a piece to eat.
It was a bit sour, a bit sweet, very different from the fresh taste.
But it was indeed very tasty.
Gu Qiaoqiao thought about Chang Qing, who had already run off out of sight, and imagined that in his previous life Chang Qing must have been very sad to learn of his own death.
She knew he wanted to repay her father for his kindness.
But that kindness would equally bind him.
Without her and her younger brother as burdens, he should lead a more relaxed life in the future.
Gu Qiaoqiao put the paper bundle into the pocket of her down jacket, went into the storeroom, took about a dozen bean pastries, and returned to the main house.