Transmigrated Into an Ancient Famine Novel as a Scumbag Alpha (ABO, GL) - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Ye Qing was about to tell the little one to close her eyes when Jiang Jinhuang sucked on her neck again. Her attention shifted entirely to Jiang Jinhuang, forgetting the little one.

She gently patted Jiang Jinhuang’s back. Jiang Jinhuang’s face was flushed red, her mind already foggy. After drawing in Ye Qing’s green grape wine scent, her head was even more muddled.

Ye Qing decided she couldn’t take in more. She coaxed patiently, “Alright, you’ve had enough this time, right? You’re drunk. Let go.”

As if understanding, Jiang Jinhuang nuzzled lightly in Ye Qing’s arms. Her tongue grazed the spot, making Ye Qing flinch. She pushed Jiang Jinhuang’s head away.

Jiang Jinhuang mumbled complaints, her slurred words incoherent. “So sweet… don’t take it away, let me have more, stingy…”

Ye Qing looked at the drunk person in her arms and sighed helplessly. Stingy? Since Jiang Jinhuang’s heat period started, she’d been bitten countless times. If it weren’t for Jiang Jinhuang being the female lead, Ye Qing wouldn’t tolerate anyone taking such advantage.

“Stingy? You’ve bitten me how many times during your heat period?” Ye Qing teased with a laugh.

But seeing the intoxicated Jiang Jinhuang, she shook her head helplessly. Explaining to a drunk was pointless.

With Jiang Jinhuang leaning on her, Ye Qing couldn’t lay the blankets. She gently tilted Jiang Jinhuang’s face to the left, exposing her right neck.

Her bonding mark was slightly swollen, the rich peach blossom scent overwhelming. Ye Qing held Jiang Jinhuang with her right arm, pinched her own thigh with her left, and bit down.

Jiang Jinhuang softened in Ye Qing’s arms, letting out a soft hum, comfortably feeling the cool green grape wine scent enter her body.

After a while, seeing Jiang Jinhuang’s emotions calm, Ye Qing released her bite.

Jiang Jinhuang had lost consciousness. Ye Qing bent down, lifted her horizontally, and placed her against the sturdy tree trunk.

Only then could she lay the blankets. Ye Qing spread one blanket on the ground, placed Jiang Jinhuang on it, and covered her with another for warmth.

Finished, Ye Qing turned to the little one, picking her up. “Yangyang, I need to get our cart. Stay here, don’t go anywhere, and watch your sister.”

“Okay, okay,” the little one nodded seriously.

“Good girl,” Ye Qing said, poking her little bun, then heading back the way they came.

She wasn’t really fetching the cart—its contents were in her space.

But Ye Qing had to act the part to avoid suspicion.

She used the time to gather dry branches in the woods, planning to start a fire when she returned.

After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, Ye Qing pushed the cart back to where Jiang Jinhuang and the little one were, with a thick bundle of firewood stacked on top.

The little one was obediently drawing on the ground with a stick. Seeing Ye Qing, she hopped over excitedly, “Sister Ye, you’re back!”

“Yeah, were you good and stayed put?” Ye Qing asked with a smile.

“Yes!” The little one hugged Ye Qing’s leg, nuzzling.

Ye Qing scooped her up, smiling, “What were you playing by yourself?”

The little one grabbed Ye Qing’s hand excitedly, pointing to where she’d been playing. “I was drawing.”

“Really? Show me,” Ye Qing said. Far from their old cave, she felt safer, her mood lighter. She set the little one down.

The little one’s short legs moved fast, leading Ye Qing to her drawing spot.

Ye Qing crouched to look. On the ground were three wobbly stick figures—two big, one small—surrounded by crooked flowers and a tree-like shape.

“This is Sister Ye, this is Sister, and this is me!” Jiang Jinyang pointed proudly at the drawing. “You and Sister play with me, and there are flowers around!”

Ye Qing looked at the cute, clumsy stick figures, her eyes softening. The little one was adorable.

Though the drawing was rough, Ye Qing praised, “Our Yangyang is the best. Your drawing is so cute.”

“Hehe!” The little one tilted her face up proudly, looking like she was amazing—quite different from the scared little girl before.

Ye Qing felt relieved. Her efforts had paid off—the little one was much closer to her now.

As for Jiang Jinhuang’s favorability growing slowly, Ye Qing understood. She wasn’t a child who’d change her view over one good deed. Plus, the past Ye Qing hadn’t treated them well. It would take time.

While Ye Qing was lost in thought, the little one tugged her sleeve, acting cute. “Sister Ye, what are we eating later?”

Ye Qing smiled at the little glutton, “How about meat later?”

“Yay! I love meat. Sister Ye is awesome. There’s meat with you,” the little one said, raising her hands with flattery, her sparkling eyes overwhelming Ye Qing.

Laughing, Ye Qing picked her up, played with her a bit, then set her down.

After playing, Ye Qing got to work. She took a piece of dry bark from a tree. In the woods, unlike the roads where refugees stripped bark, there was plenty.

Using the bark to start a fire, she lit it with her flint and knife, adding small branches first, then longer ones once the fire stabilized.

Next, Ye Qing built their shelter.

She set up wooden frames overhead and on both sides, laying blankets over them to block wind from three sides, leaving only the fire side open. Satisfied, she moved on.

Pretending to gather branches, Ye Qing took a rooster from her space. She’d checked—it wouldn’t lay eggs, perfect for Jiang Jinhuang’s nourishment during her heat period. She planned to cook it.

Returning with the rooster, the little one jumped excitedly, curiously eyeing it. “What’s that, Sister Ye?”

“It’s a rooster. We’ll kill it and have meat,” Ye Qing explained, slitting its throat to drain the bl00d with her dagger.

Once drained, she boiled water in the iron pot to pluck the feathers.

The little one was thrilled. Raised in the Minister of Rites’ mansion, she’d never seen this. She squatted beside Ye Qing, playing with a few feathers.

Ye Qing shook her head, amused. Kids this age were curious about everything.

After plucking, to ensure no feathers remained, she took an oil lamp from the cart—actually her space—originally taken from a wealthy Linzhou City household. It was useful now.

She lit the lamp to burn off any remaining feathers, then gutted the chicken.

She discarded inedible parts but kept the organs. Even modern people ate chicken offal, and on this journey, they had to save food.

Ye Qing kept the gizzard, carefully cutting it open with her dagger to remove waste.

After cleaning the chicken thoroughly with water, ensuring no bl00d remained, she washed the gizzard multiple times.

She took out a cutting board, chopped the chicken into even pieces, and decided to stir-fry it for flavor.

Freshly killed chicken didn’t need blanching to avoid a gamey taste. To save oil, Ye Qing used the chicken fat, frying it until oil came out, then added the chicken pieces and offal, stir-frying with seasonings and a splash of strong liquor to remove any smell. Soon, the pot’s aroma filled the air.

While the chicken simmered, Ye Qing steamed half a bowl of rice. The scents of chicken and rice made the little one drool as she sat nearby.

“Wow, smells so good,” the little one said, staring at the pot.

Ye Qing’s eyes crinkled. “I’ll give you extra pieces. Do you like chicken?”

“Love it!” the little one said excitedly.

Jiang Jinhuang, in a daze, heard voices. Her head throbbed, making it hard to open her eyes, like a bad hangover, her mind foggy.

She closed her eyes, waiting. As her senses returned, her head cleared, and the aromas of rice and meat hit her. Starving, she opened her eyes.

She saw the big and small figures squatting neatly by the fire, her sister’s eyes practically glued to the pot.

Propping herself up, she noticed she was in a simple shelter. The cart was nearby, the horse tied to a tree, and Ye Qing had clearly cooked.

Jiang Jinhuang opened her mouth, stunned. While she was unconscious, Ye Qing had done so much. The pile of branches by the fire was likely her work too. And her body wasn’t burning—Ye Qing must have transferred scent.

Looking at Ye Qing, she met her clear, smiling gaze. Jiang Jinhuang didn’t dislike it.

Seeing her awake, Ye Qing relaxed. “Good timing. Food’s almost ready.”

Jiang Jinhuang pursed her lips and said, “Thanks for your hard work.”

“No problem. You’re sick. It’s my job to care for you both,” Ye Qing said, smiling at her, then winking at the little one.

The little one giggled happily.

Jiang Jinhuang sat up, feeling better after a moment. Looking at the pot, she froze. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was chicken?

Her brow furrowed. She glanced at the barren winter woods—mostly just branches. Where did Ye Qing get a chicken? She felt she’d missed too much while unconscious.

“Ye Qing, where did that chicken in the pot come from?” Jiang Jinhuang asked, puzzled.

Ye Qing scratched the back of her neck, her gaze drifting. “I caught it in the woods while chopping branches.”

Jiang Jinhuang looked confused. “You went to chop branches and caught a domesticated rooster?”

Was that believable? Though not an expert on poultry, she knew wild pheasants had long feathers, were lean, and hard to catch—not like this!