Zhao Jing and De'an delivered some steamed buns and flatbreads to Xiaoao Mountain, along with a bucket of hot rice soup.
By the time the two of them returned to the Chen family's home, braving the downpour, the clean clothes they had just put on were soaked through again, their shoes and hems caked with mud.
Chen De'an let out a violent sneeze and couldn't help but curse, "This damn weather! It's enough to freeze a man to death."
Hearing him, Chen Wanqing quickly poked her head out of the kitchen. "You two, hurry inside! I've made some ginger soup. Drink a couple of bowls to warm yourselves up."
The soup was brewed with aged ginger and had been simmering for some time. Its pungent aroma was noticeable from a good distance away, and Chen De'an wanted no part of it.
But he had to drink it whether he liked it or not. GLUG, GLUG. After two bowls, Chen De'an let out a loud burp and shivered, a wave of coldness seeming to expel itself from his body.
